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Chapter Twenty-Six

L unch.

He’d make sure he had enough Pan masa, had bought carnitas from Mrs. Gonzales, and pickled red onions all by himself.

Now all he had to do was check to see if the ramp he had built onto the front of the house was dried off again and that his front room didn’t smell like cat.

He brushed some lint off his pants. God. He was having lunch with his lover and his lover’s mom. How fucking amazingly weird was that?

Rory grinned. His cowboy lover. Luke was this amazing mix of brave and vulnerable, strangely innocent about things and world-weary. Rory adored him.

The rain was relentless today, proving that fall was well upon them, with north Texas winter coming soon.

He waited near the door for Luke to text. He had umbrellas ready if they needed him to run out with them.

A truck headed down his driveway, one he didn’t recognize, but that was no big. He didn’t know what Mrs. LeBlanc drove. Rory watched, waiting for his phone to ding. Luke was supposed to warn him.

When he saw the two big guys in the front seat of the cab, he made sure his shotgun was at hand, right there inside the front door. That was so not Luke and Mrs. LeBlanc. Rory also got his phone in his hand, ready to hit the emergency button if he needed to.

He set his expression to ‘friendly but not stupid’ and waited for Frick and Frack to get out of the truck.

The muscle trundled out into the rain and slogged up on his porch. How nice of them to ring the doorbell. Which was wired to a security camera that was recording the whole front yard.

He pulled his shotgun off the rack and opened the main door a bit, knowing the screen door was locked. “Can I help you, boys?”

One of the men had the good sense to back off a step. The other scowled, opening his coat to show a handgun. “McConnell?”

Ah. A hired Yankee. Interesting .

He lifted his shotgun and cocked it. “Who’s asking, boys?”

“A concerned citizen.”

The other man snorted. “What he means is Mr. Harris asked us to stop by and make sure you understood the dangers of buying the Sumner acreage.”

Now, this was a local boy. He looked of an age with Luke and Matt’s eldest brother.

“Ah, what a sweet little cocksucker. The deal’s already in the bank, sweetheart.”

“You’re pushing your luck, McConnell,” Goon Number One growled. “Sooner or later you’ll push too far.”

“Or what?” Come on, assholes. Keep talking. I will put your asses under the county jail .

“Just shut up, Leo.” The local boy poked the other one on the arm.

“What did you boys think you were gonna do?” Rory asked. “Waltz in here and pull me out of my house and beat me up? You think I don’t protect my home?”

They glanced at each other, and he had to chuckle. So yes. That was exactly what they’d planned. Morons.

“I may be a giant flaming fag, guys, but I’m still a Texan. I know my rights. Now, I suggest you get off my land before I shoot you for breaking and entering.”

Another truck turned into the drive, his phone beeping. Fuck-a-doodle-doo.

He didn’t let it distract him, the shotgun never wavering.

Texas doofus turned to see who it was, eyes widening. “Shit, Leo.”

“I told you not to say my name!”

He prayed that Luke was watching, was paying attention and could see something through the rain.

“That’s Preacher LeBlanc’s truck. Come on!”

The beefy one with the Jersey accent wasn’t bright enough to comply. “I’m not scared of some minister.”

“No?” He had to make the decision whether to expose himself and protect Luke and his mom or pussy out.

Christ on a crutch. Like he’d told Harris’ men, he might be a giant flaming fag, but he was still a Texan.

He opened the screen door, stepped out on the porch and put a bead on the one that had proved he was packing.

“Maybe you ought to worry about being scared of me.”

“Come on!” The Texas boy started down the steps just as the truck accelerated sharply, then skidded to a stop with the passenger side facing them. Very stunt driver maneuver.

There was nothing stunt double-y about Luke sitting in the open truck window, pointing a rifle at the goons. “What the hell is this?” Luke snarled.

“The Doug Harris welcome wagon. Watch out, honey. Mr. Tall, Dumb and Yankee here is packing.” Be careful, Luke .

“Oh, I imagine Jakob there is, too. He never did have a brain in his head.” Mrs. LeBlanc had hopped out of the driver’s seat and was leveling a large revolver over the hood of the truck while keeping herself mostly out of sight.

Please, Jesus. Let me be part of this family. I’m totally in love at first sight with Mom and the vision of Luke with a gun is giving me an inappropriate woody.

“Now, Mrs. LeBlanc.”

“Castor Jakob Hise, don’t you talk back to me.

That’s my baby boy Luke with that rifle and he was a sharpshooter for the Navy.

He will skin you alive one bullet at a time.

Now you take your ugly friend there and get out of here.

I also suggest you get a better job. One that doesn’t involve you waking up of a morning and being an asshole! Don’t think I won’t call your momma.”

“Jesus.” Jakob grabbed the Leo guy by the arm. “We’re going. Now.”

“Good idea. It’s damp out here and I have lunch plans.” Not to mention that the shotgun was getting heavy. The big guy was going to be a problem, he could tell, but for now he muttered and took off with little Jakob.

No one moved a muscle until the big truck cleared his gate and gunned off down the ranch road.

“Well, now. I hope you have a towel warmer,” Mrs. LeBlanc said.

“Yes, ma’am. I bought one last year. Come on in and I’ll help Luke in and then I’ll set you up.” He shot her a smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Pleasure to meet you, too.” She tucked the revolver into her shoulder bag before walking over to take the elbow he offered her.

“Be right back, Luke.”

“No worries. I can hang.” Tension thrummed in Luke’s voice.

“I won’t let anything happen to him, ma’am. You have my word.” He wasn’t sure that was a comfort, but it was true.

“I hope so, Rory. I have to say it wasn’t reassuring to drive up to a standoff.”

“It wasn’t reassuring to answer the door to a little lynch mob, so I totally understand.”

“What did they want?”

“To tell me to stop buying things.” He tossed towels in the dryer, which was off the kitchen and closer than the towel warmer. Then he pulled her out a chair. “I’ll be right back to get you dried out and warm, ma’am. Two shakes.”

Then he headed back out to Luke. “Hey. Let me grab your chair.”

“Thanks. I didn’t bring my crutches since it was wet. I didn’t want to slip and bust my ass in front of Momma.”

“No, and that ramp is slick as snot.”

“That wooden rail you put in helps, though.” Luke had concern face when he got to the passenger door with the chair. “Are you okay, babe?”

“I’ll be better when we get inside. Believe it or not, that was the first time I’ve drawn down on someone.”

“No shit? It was kinda hot.” Luke laughed, some of the strain falling away.

They got Luke out of the truck and into the chair, and Luke held him when he would have straightened, kissing him on the mouth short and hard. Oh, hello.

“Yeah. I almost sprung wood with you and the rifle. I approve.”

“We’re going in there to have lunch with my mom. We have to behave.”

“Right. I’ll volunteer to take you home after, though, so I can have my wicked way with you. ”

“That sounds so good I might embarrass myself. Good thing it’s cold.” Luke nodded. “Up we go.”

“I’ll push. If I fall, please don’t roll back and crush me. I’m trying to impress your mother.”

“I can hold the rail.” Luke was breathless with laughter, though.

“Uh-huh. Let’s go before she freezes.”

“If you have a fuzzy robe she’ll want it. And socks. Her dress can go right in the dryer.”

“I’m on it. She’s a stud.”

“She so is.”

“Is what?” Mrs. LeBlanc asked. Her teeth were chattering.

Shit.

“Did you want a hot shower, ma’am? I can offer a fuzzy robe and some clean sweats and socks.”

He hurried to the dryer even before she answered, grabbing towels and wrapping her up in them.

“Oh.” She huddled into the towels. “That would be a kindness.”

“Let’s get you set up, then, shall we? Then I’ll make coffee with hot chocolate in it.”

“That sounds lovely.” She gave Rory a smile like the sun coming up.

“Good deal.” He found her soft sweats, a robe and fuzzy socks and towels, waiting for her dress so he could toss it in the dryer.

The dress popped out of the bathroom and he caught it, laughing. He grabbed more towels and the pair of sweats and hoodie Luke had left in his dresser.

“So, this isn’t exactly how I’d intended this afternoon to go, you know.”

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

“Mmm.” He flicked one nipple. “Not exactly.”

“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.”