It was nice to know Micah wasn’t the only one who could stick his foot in his mouth on occasion. “It’s not the Lord’s work, I know, but old men seem to enjoy my talents well enough, so...” Micah shrugged.

“I didn’t mean-” Damon tried again sounding flustered – or maybe frustrated – and Micah felt a bit bad for teasing him.

“I know, it’s okay,” Micah assured, throwing the man a bone. “Honestly, when I was a kid… I wanted to be a cop.”

It was a bit too close to the truth, and maybe Micah shouldn’t have said it, but it was out before he could second-guess himself.

Damon raised his eyebrows, a complicated expression overtaking his face.

“What’s that look for?” Micah demanded, slightly offended. He was on the force, after all – a criminal detective, as a matter of fact. “Not all cops are power-hungry assholes, you know. Sure, it’s a position of authority, so maybe the profession attracts more jackasses than most, but overall, it’s just like any other job. There’s bound to be pricks in any population. In my experience, most people on the force just want to help.”

Damon shook his head, seemingly in disbelief. “I can’t imagine many people in your profession share the same sentiments.”

Micah rolled his eyes. “Know many hookers, do you?” He pouted. “And here I thought I was your first.”

Damon snorted, a touch of a grin pulling at his mouth. “I don’t know,” he teased, “even if you’re right, and not all cops are pigs, Officer Peregrine isn’t exactly intimidating.”

Micah choked on a bit of rice he’d scooped into his mouth; he’d honestly forgotten he’d given Damon a fake name. “Okay, confession time,” he said after he managed to swallow his food. “Peregrine Davis isn’t my real name. It’s just an alias – a stage name, if you will – for when I’m working.”

Judging by the man’s soft smile, he wasn’t exactly surprised. Micah had a feeling that not many people had the honor of seeing such a gentle expression on Damon’s face. “I figured it might be,” the man admitted quietly.

Micah’s insides were not swooping like a preteen girl’s whose grade school crush had just smiled at her for the first time. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me my real name?” Micah pressed.

“What’s your real name?” Damon asked, somehow sounding like he was humoring Micah and was desperate to know the answer at the same time. It must have been the mix of his sultry tone with the intense gleam in his eye.

Should Micah tell him? Just his first name?

It was unlikely Damon could connect it back to his real life, but it seemed like a stupid risk regardless. Still, for some reason, Micah really wanted Damon to know. (It had nothing at all to do with wanting to hear what it sounded like rolling off his tongue in that smooth baritone.)

Micah toyed with his bottom lip, undecided. “Well, I can’t just go around giving my name out for free,” he said, taking the coy route in an effort to avoid having to make a decision.