Page 100 of Micah

I stop at the front door.

Look down at her.

“You don’t have to thank me, Princess.”

“I do.”

“No.”

I unlock the door one-handed.

“You don't.”

She studies my face.

“Why?”

Because there wasn't another possible outcome.

Because the second I saw those men put their hands on you, I would've walked through hell itself.

Because somewhere between changing your filters and kissing you behind your bar, you became the most important person in my world.

Instead, I simply say,

“I’ll never let anybody hurt you.”

Her eyes shine.

I carry her inside.

The cabin is quiet.

Warm.

Safe.

Exactly what she needs.

I set her gently on the couch.

She looks around slowly.

“This is beautiful.”

I shrug.

“Thanks. Just finished it.”

“It smells like cedar. And coffee. Wait, did you mean you just finished it?”

I nod. Her eyebrows disappear into her hairline.

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“You built a house, Micah. That seems pretty damn hard to me.”

That isn’t the only hard thing around, Princess.