Page 75 of The Wounded Warrior

“I want to talk to him, let him know that I’ll make him bleed if he hurts you.”

“Okay.” He could get that. Luke would do the same to anyone who took up with Matty.

“Okay, then.” Matt set back to work, the rhythm of ranch life eternal, unending. “You want turkey sammiches for lunch? I bought Doritos at the store.”

“Sounds great.” He chewed his lip, pondering asking Matt why he wasn’t trying to date anyone. He didn’t ask, though—he just got his ass back to work too.

He knew Matty better than anyone and, if Matt wanted to date—or fuck or whatever—Matt would. It was none of his.

Not that getting Matt on board the happy train wasn’t a good plan. It just had to be Matt’s deal, not something Luke pushed. Pushing just made Mr. Stubborn into Mr. Immovable Rock.

Luke grinned. Not that he knew anything about that. At all. No, sir.

“What are you smiling about, Lulu?”

“Stubbornness.” He handed Matt a shovel because it was too far away for Matt to reach. “We got that in the family.”

“You think? Hell, just think, not one of us is Mark. He’s fucking evil. It was watered down by us and then Johnny, well, he’s damn near easygoing.”

“He gets all his energy out during sex,” Luke drawled. “What are we gonna do about Mark, Matty? It can’t be healthy to run away from life.”

“Nope, but then that’s what Johnny thought about you.” Matt started pulling out more hay.

“He thought I was hiding?” His voice rose with genuine surprise. “How?”

“He don’t know you like I do.” Matt wiped his face, then leaned against the stall door. “I mean, you cain’t judge, Lulu. Folks always say some shit. They say Johnny’s a horndog ’cause he likes making babies. They say you’re an adrenaline junkie ’cause you are a SEAL. They say Mark’s an asshole ’cause he don’t come home or write. They say I’m a worthless piece of shit that never will be no one because I stayed here to take care of things and be a rancher. Folks always got things to bitch about.”

That might have been the most words Matty had ever said at one time. Luke blinked. “Cowboy philosopher. I like it. So I guess I could try to call Mark instead of bitching, huh?”

“You ought. I talk to him about once a quarter. He’s gonna make it.”

“Do you know what happened to him?”

“Nope, and I ain’t fixin’ to ask. He wanted me to know, he’d’a told me.”

“Argh.” Luke was so much more ‘charge the beach’ than his twin. He wanted to know what happened and how he could help. He wanted to fix it.

Matt just waited for the broken to show up, then he made them fix themselves.

Luke snorted. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I try, man. I do try.”

“You do okay.” Luke grunted, lifting a square bale into the aisle of the barn so Matt could break it up. Hard work made him feel useful.

“You want to go into town today? I have to run to the feed store. I can drop you off at McConnell’s.”

“Well, if you’re heading that way and you don’t mind.” He’d intended to stay at Matt’s, but if Matt was wanting some thinking time or something, Luke was willing to go get some nookie. “Maybe we could all go to the Mexican place.”

“Works for me. I’m not trying to get rid of you. I’m trying to be nice.”

“I like nice. Let me buy y’all supper.” He tugged out his phone to call Rory.

“’Ello?” Rory was laughing and he’d bet Lori was in there, teasing him about God knew what.

“Hey, you. Matty has to run into the feed store. Want to go to Two Senoritas with us?”

“I totally do. When?”

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