Page 63 of Keeping Knight

Micah stares at me for a second. Then he turns to face me and takes my hands. “Yes, I’m Evie’s boss,” he says. “But I would never push her to do something outside of her work hours. I respect her and the rest of my employees too much. I mentioned to her how I’d like to introduce you to Daisy. Evie offered to come over. That was it.”

“Oh.”

“And,” he presses on, “I don’t want you to feel trapped here.”

“I don’t.” Much. Most of the time, I’m happy to be in this lovely condo with Micah and Sampson for company. It’s just once in a while that I’ll start feeling antsy and claustrophobic. I’ll get this itch to go for a walk in Central Park or grab a slice of pepperoni at Pete’s Pizza. Or I’ll think about how much fun it would be to go to the Museum of Natural History with Micah to look at the dinosaur exhibits.

I know why I can’t. And I would never, ever complain about it. I just keep those little itches to myself so Micah doesn’t have yet another thing to worry about.

“Ruby.” Micah arches his brow. “If you didn’t feel trapped sometimes, I’d be shocked. You’ve been stuck in my condo for over two weeks now. I don’t care how big the place is. That’s still a long time to be in one place.”

“I don’t mind,” I insist. “I like being here. With you and Sampson… plus, your friends come over, and I met Evie and Daisy…”

“I like you being here, too.” His expression turns solemn. “But I want to take you places. Not just Fox & Falcon. I want to take you to all the places I would if things were normal. Restaurants. Shows. Museums. I’d bring you to our vacation cabin in the Catskills. Or our place on Hilton Head.”

“You would?”

“Of course.” He meets my gaze. “I want to take you on dates, Rue. Real ones. Not ordering pizza and watching movies in the TV room.”

“I like pizza and movies.”

Micah leans in to kiss me. “So do I. But I want to give you more.”

“You do, Micah.” I lace my fingers between his. “You give me so much. Not just staying here, and protecting me. But you’re always thinking about me. You order all the food I like, and you watch rom-coms and shows about kittens and puppies instead of the dragon movies you enjoy. You stocked up on all those paint by numbers for me, and⁠—”

“Paint by numbers are fun. And I like the show about kittens and puppies.”

“You invited Evie and Daisy over to distract me,” I point out. “Just like you asked Sofia and Rogue over last night.”

“Evie offered,” he retorts. “And I just happened to be talking to Sofia yesterday, and we thought it might be fun to play some games and order takeout. Like a double date.”

“It was fun.” And as a distraction, it was pretty effective—I couldn’t obsess over Sylvia or relive those humiliating moments when I came back to myself in the closet while in the midst of a cutthroat game of Risk with Micah, Sofia, and Rogue.

And yes, I know Micah said there was nothing to be embarrassed about. But like many things in life, easier said than believed.

“Rue.” Micah kisses me again. “I know you seem to have this thing about me doing things for you. I’m not sure why. But I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. I care about you. I want to make you happy. And it makes me feel good, doing things for you. So it’s a win-win.”

My heart squeezes. When he says it like that, it seems so simple.

“I guess I just wish I could do more for you,” I reply. “You’re always doing things for me. But I can’t do the same.”

“But you do,” Micah insists. “You make me happy. You’re always checking on me. Asking how I’m doing. You make my coffee in the morning, and those protein smoothies for after my workout. You made me that paint by number⁠—”

“Micah. That’s not much of a gift.”

“It is.” His gaze dips. When it lifts to meet mine again, there’s a vulnerability I haven’t seen there before. “I’ve never had a woman do things for me before. Not like you do.”

I blink at him. “What do you mean?”

“You think they’re little things. The protein shakes and getting me a glass of water before bed and scratching my back while we watch TV. But they’re not. They’re things you do because you want to make my life easier. Better. And you don’t expect anything from it.”

“Of course not.” I frown. “That’s not how doing nice things works. You just do them because you care about the other person.”

“I know.” He cups my cheek as he gazes into my eyes. “And that’s why all the things you do mean so much. Because you do them because you care about me.”

“I do.” I turn my cheek so I can kiss his palm. “Very much.”

And hearing him explain how he sees things, something that’s been off balance shifts inside me. It evens out. Clicks into place.