Page 4 of Micah
See, computers follow rules.
Strict. Unbreakable. Rules.
Humans? Not so much.
People lie.
Machines don't.
I learned that lesson overseas.
The hard way.
I grab another box and carry it toward the porch.
The front door unlocks before I reach it, using facial recognition software that I wrote.
The lights come on.
Temperature adjusts.
Coffee starts brewing.
Home sweet home.
Or as close to home as I've ever had.
The house is finished.
Sawyer moved into the big house from the get go—as he was right to.
Benji built and finally settled into his dream house just as everything with Esme, his wife, worked itself out.
And that leaves me.
The last bachelor standing.
And it is exactly the way I intended my life to be—single, solitary, and alone.
I set the box down in my home office.
Wall-to-wall monitors.
Fiber running through dedicated conduits.
Dual workstations.
A six-foot display showing every security feed across the ranch.
One glance tells me everything's normal.
Sawyer's truck is parked outside his place.
Benji's out with the breeding stock.
Esme's filming something near the equipment barn.
Bit's hanging laundry and rubbing her swollen belly with an expression on her face that makes me wonder if it’s everything it’s cracked up to be—the whole love, marriage, baby thing.
