Page 10 of The Wounded Warrior

“Shit.” McConnell looked at him like he was a moron. “I had an earth-shattering six months with a paraplegic who played for a wheelchair basketball team. He turned my ass inside out.”

Luke’s mouth fell open, and he stared. That was all he could do. Was this guy for real?

McConnell found a chair tucked away behind the potted plants and plopped down, sucking back another long swallow of beer.

“God, this thing tastes like ass. I hate crappy beer.”

Luke chuckled. “It’s a Bud. How bad can it be?”

“I know, right? It’s not like I have the palate of a cones…a coneseur…a fancy pants.”

Luke frowned. How many had McConnell had before he showed up? That would explain a lot, even if the guy didn’t smell like booze. Just what he needed—a sloppy, rich bitch drunk.

McConnell shook his head like he was confused. “At any rate, I would totally ride you like a prize pony. You ooze sex appeal.”

“Thanks.” It meant a lot less knowing McConnell was fucked up, but it was nice to hear.

“Anytime.” McConnell put his mostly empty beer aside, frowning at the bottle. “Seriously. I like a challenge.”

“Just don’t, man. Let it go.”

“Isn’t that a song?”

Christ. Luke started looking for Matt to save him. He didn’t need this.

“Oh, yeah. The big gay song.Let it go!”

No. No singing. Luke backed his chair away from McConnell, hunting enough space to turn around, but he didn’t get far.

McConnell rose and stumbled over to him, hands landing on the armrests of his chair. He expected a blast of whiskey breath, but there was only the faintest whiff of beer. “I dance, too.”

“I don’t. Back off, man.” He shoved McConnell back, but the guy had a good grip on him and he lurched forward. “I said, back off!”

“Stop.” McConnell almost ended up in his lap. “I can’t?—”

Luke shook his head and popped the guy in the jaw hard enough that Rory went ass over teakettle, landing with a thud on the floor, the sound of his head cracking like a shot.

Fuck.

Someone—a gal in sequins and rhinestones with her hair jacked to Jesus—came over, her heels click-clacking away. “Boss? Rory, honey?”

Rory’s eyes popped open, and the man stood like he’d been hit by an electrical wire. Boom, from flat on his back to standing. “Where…”

“Come on. Let’s go.” The woman shot Luke a look, the expression dripping with rage.

“Something’s wrong, Lori.” McConnell staggered, and the Lori chick caught him.

“Yeah. Obviously. Now.”

McConnell walked out, and Luke could see where blood was leaking from the man’s scalp. Dammit. He hadn’t meant to…

He’d just wanted to…

Goddamn it.

This was what happened when he tried to go out inpublic. Matt appeared next to him, frowning after McConnell. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he was drunk off his ass, man. Like totally wasted.”

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