Micah was cut off when Damon placed a hand over his mouth, warm fingers pressed against his lips. (It shouldn’t have been as distracting as it was.) “Micah,” Damon said, tone even, “calm down. The picture…” Damon trailed off, like he wanted to say something about it, but thought better of it a moment later, “don’t stress about it. It’s fine.” Damon slowly removed his hand from Micah’s mouth. “And don’t worry, we’re eating at my penthouse, so I’m sure whatever you picked out to wear is acceptable.”

Micah couldn’t help but wonder if Damon would feel the same way if he’d donned one of the outfits Damon had first met Micah in. Regardless, he offered the man a hesitant nod. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Micah worried his bottom lip. “So… are all of your sisters going to be there?”

Damon had mentioned it was hit-or-miss if they all showed up any given weekend.

“They already are,” Damon answered. “Joelle called a few minutes ago to let me know they were waiting for us. My uncle came too.”

Micah blinked. “Your uncle? You never mentioned that you had an uncle.”

“His name is Marco; he’s my dad’s younger brother. He’s heavily involved in some of my… financial endeavors.”

He was a mobster, in other words. That explained why Damon hadn’t spoken of him. Micah debated whether or not to dig deeper. “So, is he like a partner, or an enforcer, or…?”

“Both,” Damon said, which explained exactly nothing. “He usually doesn’t show up to family functions.”

Micah frowned. “Did one of your sisters tell him you were bringing someone? Do you think he came specifically to meet me?”

Damon’s gaze drifted to his tinted window, and for a second Micah didn’t think the man was going to answer. And then, so quietly Micah almost didn’t hear: “Unfortunately, that is undoubtedly why he came.”

Micah was about to crack a joke about how reassuring that was, when he stopped to really look at Damon. He was a fairly stoic person, and he didn’t have a lot of obvious tells, unlike Micah, who tended to ramble or fidget when he was feeling skittish. But taking in how stiff the man was – Damon’s shoulders radiated tension and his jaw looked almost wired shut – Micah knew. Damon was nervous.

Without thinking twice about what he was doing, Micah reached across the space between them and took hold of Damon’s hand. Damon glanced down in surprise, but turned to look at Micah without ripping his hand free, which Micah counted as a win.

Micah squeezed in a way he hoped was comforting. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Damon didn’t verbally respond, but he squeezed back, and he didn’t let go of Micah’s hand until they reached their destination.