Page 89 of The Wounded Warrior

“No?” Luke stripped off his snap-front shirt. He toweled off, his nipples hard with the cold.

“Mmm.” He flicked one nipple. “Notexactly.”

“Ouch!” Luke swatted at him. “Cold!”

“Uh-huh. Gimme. I’ll pop it in the dryer.”

“Help me get out of my jeans, too. That way you can take both.”

“I can do that.” In fact, he was exceptional at it.

“I know.” Luke’s dark eyes heated, holding his gaze.

They had tested that ability in and out of the wheelchair. In bed, too. It was more fun than advertised. He wrestled Luke out of the jeans, dried his lover off, then helped Luke back into some sweats. “You want socks, love?”

“Please. My everything got wet. Though the top was where I got the most.” Luke dried his hair with a towel. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I saw them coming, honey. I was watching the drive for you. I met them at the door with the shotgun.”

“Ah. That’s my man.” Luke handed him the towel and took the socks that had been in the clean laundry waiting to be folded.

“No, the part that’s your man is where I tell you that all the conversation was recorded with video.”

“Now, that’s fucking impressive. Who were they?”

“Doug Harris’ flunkies.”

“Jesus. Help me into a kitchen chair? I need to wipe down the wheels.”

“Sure. Grab on.” They had this move down, too. He lifted and Luke pushed and Rory was pleased to note that moving Luke was getting easier every day as Luke got stronger.

Hell, lots of times Luke used his crutches here at the house. He didn’t seem to mind Rory seeing him stumble. In fact, he often showed off new physical skills to Rory first.

Rory loved that, deep down and big. Huge.

He tossed Luke a dishrag, then put everything in the dryer, turned on the coffeemaker and pulled out cups.

Luke was soon back in his chair and moving around thekitchen, pulling stuff out of the fridge to help Rory start lunch.

Then Mrs. LeBlanc came in and he started pouring coffee, trying not to flutter.

“This is a very comfy robe,” she said, then sank down at his table. “Cream and sugar, please.”

“Yes, ma’am. Would you like cocoa in it?”How can I apologize?

“I love that idea.” She laughed and clapped her hands, her wet hair all wrapped up in a towel. This had to be the weirdest ‘parent of your lover’ lunch ever. “Excellent. I have to tell you, I don’t usually start lunches with a nascent gunfight. I prefer guacamole.”

“Well, witharepasI usually start withalbondigas.They’re in the Crock-Pot, honey. There’s avocado sauce, which is why I thought of it.” He smiled at her. “I’m so sorry, ma’am.”

“Call me Bonnie.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He fixed her coffee and handed it over, then did the same with Luke’s.

“Thanks,” Luke said. He wheeled over to the Crock-Pot and filled a bowl with meatballs, then grabbed all the condiments for them, looking right at home.

Miss Bonnie watched her boy like a hawk, then Rory swore he could see her relax.

He hoped that was good. He really did. They jostled each other to get thearepamaker set up, and he had to fling a tiny blob of cornmeal at Luke, hitting him in the nose.

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