Micah groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Tessa-”

“-but it’s sketchy as fuck. Especially since he’s paying you that kind of money. I mean, have you checked your Venmo to see if he’s actually sent you anything?”

Micah still hadn’t worked up the nerve to do that, in fact, afraid he’d see a ridiculous number in his account and freak out over it. Besides, he had no intention of actually using any of the money. He told Tessa so.

She frowned, but shrugged. “That’s your call, I suppose. Though I still don’t know why you won’t tell him you’re not actually a prostitute.”

“I actually have a very good reason for that.”

Micah had told Tessa nearly everything there was to know about his situation with Damon. But there was one thing he’d purposefully avoided mentioning, and it was finally the moment of truth. Where Micah told her that the deal he’d struck with Damon was even more fucked up than she thought.

Tessa wiped her greasy fingers off on a napkin before giving him her full attention. “Let’s hear it then.”

“It’s his job,” Micah revealed hesitantly. “It’s dangerous. It’s also why he pays me to be his escort instead of finding someone he actually likes to spend his time with.”

Tessa sent him a disbelieving look. “He seems to like you just fine. More than fine, actually.”

Micah waved away her words, even if they did make his heart flutter a little. “The point is, with his job being… what it is, I can’t tell him that I work for the police.”

Tessa frowned. “But I thought he worked in finances,” she said.

“That’s technically true,” Micah hedged.

Tessa crossed her arms over his chest, resting them pointedly on her swollen belly. “Do you plan on telling me what the man actually does for a living before or after I pop these two out?” she demanded.

Micah sighed. Then he braced himself. “Damon’s a mafia don.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Tessa took the news better than he thought she would.

And by that, Micah meant that she had only yelled and scolded him for about twenty minutes instead of the solid hour he’d been expecting. (“What sort of mental gymnastics did your brain manage to perform that you thought for even a single second that this was a good idea?!”)

Sure, it was only because they were already late getting back to work that she’d had to stop, and yeah, she had sent him looks filled with varying degrees of exasperation and worry for the rest of the day, but Micah was counting it as a win.