Page 10 of Finn's Future

“Oh, now you’re sleepy,” Finn muttered. “After terrorizing your mother for hours.”

I wiped quickly at my face before he noticed the tears gathering there.

“You don’t have to keep holding him,” I whispered.

Finn glanced down at Noah, who was already half asleep against him. “Yeah,” Finn replied quietly, “looks like I do.” He finally looked back up at me. “You need sleep.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s a lie.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but a yawn betrayed me immediately.

One side of his mouth pulled upward. “Thought so.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. “I can take him back,” I offered.

Finn adjusted Noah higher against his chest before I could reach for him. “I said sleep.” The words came out rough, but not unkind.

I hesitated. Every instinct screamed at me not to close my eyes. Not to let my guard down. Not to trust anyone enough for me to sleep while they watched my son.

But Finn hadn’t complained once. Hadn’t looked annoyed or acted like Noah was a burden.

He’d just . . . helped.

Slowly, I climbed back beneath the blankets.

Finn moved towards the chair near the door, Noah still asleep against his chest as he lowered himself carefully into it.

The bedside lamp cast soft shadows across the room, catching the tired lines around his eyes and the neat stubble on his jaw. He looked dangerous even sitting there holding a baby, but somehow not dangerous to us.

“You gonna stare at me all night?” Finn asked quietly without looking up.

I blinked. “Sorry.”

“Sleep, Kate.”

I watched him for another few seconds anyway.

Watched Noah curled safely against his chest.

Watched Finn continue a slow rocking motion.

The last thing I remembered before sleep dragged me under was the sight of the big biker sitting guard beside the door with my son asleep in his arms like he belonged there.

Chapter 5

Finn

Three days later, Kate was still jumping at every loud sound or bang.

It had been a long wait at the motel, but Reaper wanted the full table present before church was called, which meant waiting for brothers to get back from runs and club business.

Three more days stuck in that motel room.

Three more nights of Noah barely sleeping.

I sat at the table in the back room, fighting yawns as the brothers rolled in one by one, leather creaking, smoke already hanging thick in the air.