Page 56 of The Wounded Warrior

“It might get you shot, for sure.” Luke sighed. “Tell me I can see you by Monday.”

“I will pick you up after work. We’ll make burgers or pick up tacos or just starve and touch each other for hours. I’m easy.”

“Sounds like a plan. I have lunch with Momma and Preacher Sunday, and tomorrow I have to hit the auction with Matt. There’s a foal he wants to look at, and I want to see llamas.”

“Llamas? Do they spit?”

“They do, but they don’t bite much, and if they kick, it hurts but it won’t kill you.”

“Good to know.” His people weren’t ranchers. A couple of horses, tax-deduction cows, but that was really it.

Maleficent jumped into his lap, yowling imperiously.

“Is that my girl?” Luke asked.

“It is.” Mal was already ridiculously attached to Luke.

“Tell her and the girls I’ll bring them tuna.”

“You spoil them.”

“Excuse me? I’ve seen the kitty condo set up in your office. They have a better set-up than most people.”

“Everyone needs a hobby.”

Luke yawned loud enough for him to hear that strong jaw pop. “Sorry about that. I guess I ought to head to bed. Thanks for listening.”

“Any time, honey. I’ll talk to you later. You get some rest.”Think about me a little.

“I will. After I jack myself to sleep.” Luke chuckled. “See you soon.” The line went dead.

“Shithead.” He laughed as Maleficent head-butted him. “It’s true. He’s a shithead.”

Mal yowled at him, for lo, she would never hear a bad word against her Luke. He rubbed her ears, nodding. “I know,but now I need a cold shower. How’s that gonna help me sleep?”

Eh, he’d just jack off in bed. That would relax him and if he still couldn’t sleep he’d watch QVC. That shit always knocked him right out. Weird but true.

He climbed to his feet, leaving his laptop open. There was always work if nothing else relieved him.

Chapter Eighteen

Luke checked his jeans and boots one more time, making sure he hadn’t really gotten things messed up from the truck to the wheelchair.

“Lu, it’s lunch with Preacher and Momma. Not a wedding.”

“Shut up.” He knew that, but still…he knew from the service that, if you wanted someone to listen to you, you needed to be spit and polish.

“It’s cool. We’re just talking. Having lunch.”

A sidelong glance told him Matt was nervous, too. They had this idea… Well. It was just a shadow of an idea, but Momma and Preacher would be their first shot at explaining it.

“Uh-huh. That’s why you’re wearing a button-down instead of your Chris LeDoux concert tee.”

“It’s in the washer.”

“Sure.” He’d folded clothes this morning. He knew better. Luke grinned. “Lord, look at that ramp Preacher built. I’d need a bike gear for hills to get up that alone.”

Matty chuckled and shook his head. “Yeah, I tried tomention, but you know how he is. He gets something in his head and it sticks.”

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