Page 189 of Micah

“I've been told.”

My eyes stay fixed on Micah.

“You... handled all of that?”

He nods once.

“I didn't want you worrying about your employees. And you didn’t need them gossiping. They've got enough real work to do. I figured you could decide what to tell them later.”

My lips part.

“You figured...”

“I know this seems heavy handed, Princess, and maybe I should have asked first, but you've got enough on your plate already.”

His tone never changes.

No expectation.

No hint that he wants credit.

He's simply telling me what he did, the same way another man might mention he'd picked up milk on the way home.

“Besides I don't like loose ends,” he adds. “They make people anxious.”

Something about that makes my chest ache.

“You thought I'd be anxious.”

“You were already carrying enough. But I’m sorry if I should’ve waited.”

The words are so matter of fact they steal my breath.

He wasn't trying to impress me.

He was trying to lighten my load.

Silence settles over the kitchen.

No one rushes to fill it.

Bit quietly busies herself slicing another bagel. Esme wraps both hands around her coffee mug. Sawyer studies the wood grain in the table like he suddenly finds it fascinating. Even Benji, who usually has something smart to say, keeps his mouth shut.

They're giving me space. And I never realized how rare that was.

My gaze drifts around the room.

To Bit.

To Esme.

To Sawyer.

To Benji.

Then back to Micah.

This incredible, infuriating, quietly wonderful man.