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Micah points an accusing finger at them. “You’re silent but deadly.”
Elowen snorts. “Whatever you say, boss.”
He sighs and returns his attention back to me. “Anyway, what can I help you with, Lucan?”
“I, uh…” I slide the coffee cup across the reception desk toward him. “I brought you this.”
His brows lift in surprise. “For me?”
He accepts it with both hands, as though it’s something delicate. Warm steam curls into the cool clinic air as he peels back the lid and inhales. His shoulders sag with relief.
“That’s very kind.” He takes a grateful sip before smiling up at me over the rim of the cup. “Thank you.”
Warmth blooms in my chest. “No problem.” I reach into the leather tube slung over my shoulder and pull out a rolled sheet of parchment. “I also came to show you something.”
His eyes brighten instantly. “The wing design?”
I nod. “I was up all night working on it. Couldn’t sleep.”
Unrolling the sketch across the reception counter, I smooth the corners flat with one hand. Maple’s new prosthetic stretches across the page, every measurement carefully labeled in graphite. Gears, leather harnesses, steel braces, and joint mechanisms fill the margins alongside hastily scribbled calculations and notes.
Micah steps closer until our shoulders brush.
“Oh, wow…” His fingertips trace the outline of one wing where the leather harness connects to the metal frame. The morning sunlight catches the lenses of his glasses as he studies every line with quiet concentration. “This is incredible.”
My heartbeat picks up. “I’ll start building it tonight.”
His gaze lifts to mine, his expression softening into something that steals the breath from my lungs. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It isn’t nothing.” He smiles, looking back down at the drawing. “You’re giving Maple a chance to fly.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I hope so.” Carefully, I roll the parchment back into its tube. “Anyway, I’d better let you get back to work.”
Micah nods. “Have a good day, Lucan.”
“You too, Doc.”
I turn and head toward the front door.
Just before I step outside, a muffled giggle drifts across the waiting room. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Elowen leaning over the reception desk, whispering something into Micah’s ear.
His eyes widen. I don’t catch what they say next, but judging by the way Micah buries his face behind the coffee cup, I’m fairly certain they’re teasing him.
He looks completely flustered and dorky.
And unfortunately for me, I somehow find it cute.
I bite back a smile, lifting my own coffee to my lips as I push open the clinic door and step out into the crisp mountain air.
Chapter Three: Micah
“You’re hopeless, Doc,” Elowen says, passing me a pair of sterile forceps.
My brow furrows above my surgical mask as I accept them. “What do you mean?”
“With Lucan.” Their eyes sparkle with mischief. “Can’t say I blame you. I’m also curious whether everything about him is giant, if you catch my drift.”
