Page 67 of Finn's Future

I grabbed the picnic basket Reaper had brought without answering out loud.

The cabin disappeared behind us after about half an hour of walking.

We ended up beneath a huge tree beside a shallow brook, eating sandwiches Lucy had packed while Noah-free silence settled around us.

No diapers. No clubhouse noise. No fear hanging over every conversation.

Just us.

At one point, Kate wandered barefoot into the brook before immediately jerking back with a gasp.

“Oh my God, that’s freezing.”

I laughed and stepped in after her anyway.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, laughing harder as I swore under my breath at the cold.

“Couldn’t let you suffer alone.”

“Such a gentleman.”

We scrambled back onto the grass, dripping water everywhere.

The breeze picked up enough to make her shiver, and I reached for the blanket automatically, tugging it around her shoulders. She hesitated briefly before sitting beside me, close enough that our legs brushed beneath the blanket.

Neither of us mentioned it.

The brook babbled nearby. Birds shifted overhead somewhere in the trees.

“You’re good with him,” she said eventually.

“With Noah?”

She nodded. “He likes you.”

I huffed. “Kid likes anybody who feeds him.”

“That’s not true.” I glanced sideways at her. “Babies know who feels safe.”

For a second, neither of us said anything.

“And you?” she asked after a moment. “Do you like him?”

The question caught me off-guard enough that I looked at her properly.

She wasn’t teasing. Wasn’t fishing. She genuinely wanted to know.

“Yeah,” I said simply. “I do.”

Something in her expression eased after that.

“Good.”

Silence settled again, softer this time.

Her knee rested against mine beneath the blanket. I could smell her shampoo every time the breeze shifted, and I forced myself to look away before my brain headed somewhere dangerous.

“We should probably head back soon,” I said.