“Damon, where the hell did you go?” the woman all but snarled. “You can’t just take off in the middle of-” she cut herself off abruptly upon noticing Micah.

He raised his hand in something that may have resembled a wave. “Um, hi?”

The woman’s frown didn’t melt away; rather, her mouth pursed.

Damon carefully took Micah’s hand, lowering it back down to his side. “Micah, this is Joelle, my sister – the one Adella told you about. Joelle, this is Micah.”

Ah-ha! So he was right!

“This is Micah?” Her bewildered irritation took a turn towards intrigued. Her blue eyes – darker than Damon’s, but still pretty – sharpened with interest. For a long moment, she stared, her eyes carefully running down his form – analyzing, judging. It probably would have been uncomfortable if Micah currently had the ability to be uncomfortable. (As it was, he was much more occupied with the tingliness of his lips, pressing them together again and again to experience the pleasant pinpricks.)

When Joelle’s eyes finally left Micah to return to Damon, there was more than a hint of amusement in them. “I hope you remembered to ask him to come with you like a gentleman this time instead of dragging him off against his will.”

Micah blinked. Apparently, Damon had spoken about him to his family. Despite the fact that he’d waxed poetry about Damon’s ridiculously thick thighs to Tessa, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Still, it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one to find Damon’s controlling tendencies to be on the tyrannical side. (Even if Micah’s cock did twitch with interest when that commanding tone was directed towards him.)

“He’s very bossy,” Micah agreed matter-of-factly.

Joelle snickered.

Damon scowled. “Shut up, Joelle. Can you watch him for a second? I need to make a call.”

“What? Afraid he’ll run off again?” she teased.

Again, Micah probably should have been annoyed – since they were discussing babysitting him like he was some sort of disobedient toddler – but, well, tequila.

“Please?”

Joelle waved a hand. “Go on. I think I can handle him for a couple minutes.”

Damon nodded, offering her a terse “thanks” before turning towards Micah, putting his hands on his shoulders to make sure he had his attention. “I’ll be right back. Stay here with Joelle, okay?”

Micah nodded dumbly, unable to tear eyes away from Damon’s magnificent backside as he walked away, in the direction of the stairs.

“It’s not right.”

Micah turned towards Joelle. “Huh?”

“I practically had to paint this dress on, and somehow, his ass still looks better than mine.”

Micah blinked, having no idea what to say. Was it weird for a sister to comment on her brother’s ass? He didn’t know. He didn’t have any siblings. “Um-”

Luckily, Joelle didn’t seem to expect an answer. “I hope you know how worried he’s been.”

The words didn’t sound threatening exactly, especially considering the nonchalance they were spoken with, but Micah’s hindbrain still screamed danger! when the woman suddenly stepped into his space and ran a manicured fingernail down his cheek.