Page 166 of Micah
Sawyer moves on to scratch his beard.
“That’s fair.”
“I need to rescue my Princess,” I murmur.
Benji doubles over laughing.
“Rescue? Princess?”
“Yes. And shut up!”
“From breakfast?”
“From being interrogated by your wives!”
“They're just talking.”
“You don't know that. And we all know Bit.”
“He has a point,” Benji mumbles.
I point triumphantly.
“Exactly.”
Sawyer shakes his head.
“You've got it bad for this little bartender, don’t you?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Micah.”
“You called her Princess in front of us.”
“That slipped.”
“You changed the filters in her van.”
“We went over this. She needed new filters,” I mutter, and no, I don’t know why I’m bothering to explain myself to these two fuckheads.
“You installed cameras around her bar.”
“Just shut up.”
Sawyer raises one eyebrow.
Benji snorts.
“I rest my case.”
I decide the conversation is over.
I grab my truck keys off the workbench.
“I don’t care what you do, but I'm leaving.”
Benji points toward the cattle pens.
