Page 5 of The Wounded Warrior

“Are you okay?” McConnell sounded genuinely concerned, which had to be put on, right?

“Luke. Hey. What do you want, McConnell?”

“I was going to hand your brother paper towels and then turn him to the dark side. We have cookies.”

“Ha.” Matt scowled at the man, then at him. “You disappeared.”

“Right,” Luke said. “I blend in.”

“Like a goddamn ghost. You need anything else, McConnell?”

“You are a prickly old fuck, aren’t you, Matt?” Another one of those wild grins showed up, McConnell looking damned fine, which Luke would never admit out loud.

“Damn right. I’m paid up, too, back on schedule, so fuck off.”

“Good for you.” The dude didn’t sound sarcastic. Luke stared at him, but McConnell only smiled, cheerful as fuck. “You holler at me if you change your mind, though. Not Harris.”

“Like I’d ever sell to you.”

McConnell staggered back, hands clasped over his chest. “Matt, you wound me to the core.”

Oh, Matt was going to kick this guy’s ass. Luke would watch. It would be a hoot.

Matt bared his teeth. “Go away.”

“Your brother is a mean man. If he starts abusing you, or hell, versy-vicey, let me know. I’ll either save you or pay to watch.” With that, McConnell sauntered off.

Whatthe fucking fuck?

Matt stared at McConnell’s back, mouth hanging open. “Was he just coming on to you?”

“Who would come on to me, man?”

Swatting at him, Matt clucked like a mother hen. “Maybe he has a thing for meals on wheels, bro.”

“Oh, fuck you and the horse you rode on.”

“Luke LeBlanc! You watch your mouth!”

The sound of Miss Feezle’s voice was still as sharp as it had been when he was taking freshman English in high school. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.”

If Matt laughed even once, Luke was going to kill him.

“You are a decorated war hero, and I expect you to act as such, young man.” She glared down at him, and he had one of those weird out-of-time moments. She seemed just the same. It had been, what? Fifteen years? Sixteen? And she hadn’t changed. “Thank you for your service and your sacrifice. You must wear the label of hero for those young people looking up to you.”

“Have to be pretty damn short to do that, bro,” Matt spoke so softly that only he caught it.

Luke summoned a smile. “Thank you, Miss Feezle.” He wanted to scream that it didn’t take any courage at all to get surprised by a kid wrapped in an explosive vest under his clothes. He didn’t. Go him.

“Goodbye, boys. Say hello to John and Mark for me.”

“Will do.” Matt’s eyes rolled like dice across a slick table.

Miss Feezle whapped Matt on the butt, the sound just like when they’d taken licks at school rather than do detention. Not that Miss Feezle would admit to administering illegal capital punishment.

“Lord have mercy.” Luke shook his head. “I’m so glad to be home.” Sarcasm dripped from him like venom.

Matt shot him a sympathetic glance. “It’d be the same anywhere, you know. Hell, the hospital made you homicidal.”

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