Page 71 of Tapped

This is not exciting.

This is traumatic.

She skips to the door like Magic Mike is on the other side and he’s here for a private show.

“Cadence!” I yell but that doesn’t stop her. I barely have time to unarm my system when she swings the door open without checking to see who it is, like I don’t have a killer after me.

It’s not Magic Mike.

It’s better.

Micah stands in the wide opening with his arms crossed and another bag slung over his shoulder. His hair is damp with an unruly lock kissing his forehead. He frowns when his gaze lands on my sister until it wanders through the house and lands on me. That frown softens into a lustful stare when he takes me in from head to toe. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I squeak.

Holy shit.

I actually squeaked.

“Well,” Cadence chirps. “This could not have turned out better had I written the script myself.”

Micah frowns at her again. “Who are you?”

Cadence holds her arm out. “I’m a Fairy Godmother. You’ll do just fine. I’m also leaving.”

I might be desperate enough to argue with my sister and beg her not to leave, but I notice a cut on Micah’s cheek as he walks through my door.

“What happened to your face?”

He shakes his head and drops a small duffel at his feet. “It’s been a day.”

Focusing on the gaping cut is easier than fixating on the funny feeling in my underwear since I did what Cadence told me to do and became one with my razor. I erase the distance between us, lift on my toes, and tilt his face to me to get a better look. “You need to close that for it to heal properly.”

“You can stitch him up,” Cadence announces. “Which brings us to the subject, Micah, when is the last time you’ve had blood work to test for communicable diseases?”

Micah turns and positions himself between my sister and me. “No shit, who are you?”

She juts her hand out. “CadenceLitchfieldPatterson—note the Litchfield. Evie is my baby sister, and I was here to keep her company while you work to throw my asshole soon-to-be-ex-brother-in-law in prison forever and ever until he dies a depressing death.”

Micah turns to me. “The text?”

I bite my lip and nod.

“You didn’t answer me,” Cadence continues to rule the room. “Have you been tested recently? I mean, since the last time you …communicatedwith anyone? Evie is a doctor and if she’s going to stitch you up, she needs to know these things.”

Micah doesn’t answer my sister, but looks back at me. “I don’t have the test results on me, but I’m good.”

“My work is done.” Cadence exhales as if she just won a pickleball tournament. She moves around the special agent, who I’m surprised hasn’t run away after the Cadence show, and gives me a peck on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll reach out tomorrow.” She hikes a brow at Micah before looking back at me with widened eyes. “To catch up.”

And with that, she’s out the door.

For the pure excuse to kill time, I follow her, flip the deadbolt, and arm my security system.

I pull in a deep breath, pray it will deaden my nerves, and turn to Micah. “I’m sorry. She’s a lot.”

“She is that,” he agrees. “Were you adopted?”

“Unfortunately, no.” I quickly change the subject to something within my slim comfort zone. “I’m just going to run upstairs and get something for that cut.”

---