And for Micah …
A worn leather bracelet.
Lila’s.
The one she’d made him when he was small enough to still show her his scraped knees.
Byron couldn’t be there.
But he could send memory.
He could send apology in the shape of relics.
The men approached, and the women surged like a coordinated front.
Scarves appeared. Silk slid into place. Hands reached up.
Micah was directly in front of me—eyes already narrowing like he knew this was a trap.
“Baby,” he warned quietly.
I smiled sweetly and lifted the blindfold. “Don’t start.”
His mouth twitched. “This is silly.”
“It’s romantic,” I corrected, looping the fabric behind his head.
“It’s suspicious,” he murmured, but he didn’t pull away.
Which was its own kind of tenderness.
All around us, the same thing happened: Ethan grumbling, Caleb swearing, Jacob laughing, Levi making a sarcastic comment, Gideon going still like he was already calculating every exit, Lucas trying to charm his way out of it until Lexi kissed him and he surrendered.
Silas didn’t even fight. He just held still while Portia tied his blindfold, and the look on his face—beneath the fabric—felt like devotion made visible.
When the last blindfold was secured, Portia clapped once.
“All right,” she announced. “Gentlemen, you’re being transported. You will not ask questions. You will not attempt escape. You will trust the women who love you.”
“Hostage situation,” Levi muttered.
“Absolutely,” Amelia said cheerfully.
We herded them toward the waiting vehicles with the kind of laughter that made the air feel lighter than it had in weeks.
And when we finally boarded the private plane at the airstrip, the men moved carefully—hands out, bodies tense, the occasional muttered threat of revenge.
Micah sat beside me with his blindfold on, one hand already covering my thigh like it was instinct.
“Joy,” he said lowly, “if someone touches you on this plane?—”
“Nobody’s touching me,” I interrupted, amused. “Except you. Later.”
His breath hitched like my words had done something to him, anyway.
Good.
I leaned closer and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Trust me.”
