Page 38
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“ O kay, Luke. Five more reps on the abs.”
Luke panted, arms crossed over his chest as he pulled in his ab muscles and sat up. “Are you sure you’re not a military DI, man?”
“The military isn’t as tough as me, Luke. Come on, give it up for me.” Avery grinned at him, all-American with his surfer hair and his too-blue-not-to-be-contacts eyes.
“What the hell are you doing in this little town again?”
“Taking the path of least resistance and cheap rent, cowboy. Cities have tons of competition. Besides, you cowboy types tear yourselves up a lot.”
“Right.” He huffed, pushing up again, his muscles screaming.
“Come on, stud. You can do it. You give me these and I’ll rub you down.”
“Promise?” He hit three, then four. One more.
“I swear. Your guy just pulled up too. He’s always early, huh?”
“He’s eager.” Luke grinned and pushed out his final rep. “He wants to make sure the rubdown stays impersonal.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a stud and all, but not my type. I like them less bitchy.” Avery grinned at him and he swatted at the bastard half-heartedly. “See what I mean?”
“Are you abusing my man, Avery?” Rory looked good—all cowboy lawyer, from hat to jacket to dark Wranglers. “It’s chilly out there, I swear to God. Hey, honey. Looking good.”
“Hey, babe. Do you know how awkward it is to know you two had a fling?” Luke had to say it. It was a ritual by now.
“Rory was a horndog, man. You reformed him.”
“I have had the best now. I got nowhere else to explore.”
Luke burned with pleasure at that. He did adore when Rory got all possessive.
“Up on the table, sailor. I’ll rub you down while your man watches and drools. I should charge extra for this shit, y’all.”
“You’re a sick man, Avery.” Rory flopped down into a chair. “Damn, what a day wheeling and dealing.”
“Have you made a fortune?”
“Actually, today was a good day on the money front. I can afford to buy us steaks at the Walmart.”
“Oooh.” Luke grunted when Avery dug both thumbs into the sole of his left foot. “Steaks. Baked potatoes?”
“I’m all over that. Dessert?”
“We have that Boston cream pie mix,” Luke said. “I’ll toss it together.”
“Y’all are domestic as fuck,” Avery teased as those strong hands started working his shoulders. “It’s adorable.”
“I know.” Rory’s voice sounded tickled, not wry. “What the hell is up with that?”
“He’s in desperate need of someone to take care of him.
” Luke could tease, because they were doing a great job of taking care of each other.
They had a little bit of a routine going—Wednesday and Friday nights he spent at Rory’s and Rory brought him home Saturday and worked the horses with him, then did the same Sunday.
Hell, Rory was invited to Sunday lunch at the folks—standing offer.
The most telling fact was that Matty let Rory care for his expensive fillies. There was trust there now—between Rory and the horses.
“I totally am. He takes care of me, of horses. It’s stunning.”
“I love the mutual admiration.” Avery gave him deep pressure on his lower back.
He grunted. Fuck, that was good. Ab work always caused an atrocious ache right above his hips. “Rory, did you bring my chair?” He’d come in with his crutches, but there was no way he was leaving on them.
“I did. You need it?”
“Please? The cold will make it worse.”
“Give me two shakes and I’ll have it in.” Rory headed out, whistling merrily while Avery started in on his thighs.
“He looks so happy,” Avery murmured. “Looks like you two are getting serious.”
Luke frowned a little at Avery’s careful tone. “Is that bad?”
“He…he’s just had some bad shit happen to him. Real bad, and it’s like public. That leaves scars.”
Luke rolled over. “What are you saying, Avery? Spit it out.”
“You need to talk to him, Luke. Let him tell you.”
“It sounds like you’re warning me off.” Luke had been about to ask Avery if he would be interested in investing time in the idea him and Matt had, but now he hesitated.
“Not in the least. You’re happy, he’s happy, and I can tell he loves you. I just want him to show you his skeletons instead of somebody else.”
“Okay.” He left it at that. If Rory was gonna tell him about shit he was. If not, well, they both had their hard luck stories .
“Good deal.” And that seemed like was that. No dire looks, no bullshit.
He shook his head, feeling a little ambushed. Avery was his friend, though, so Luke chose to take it as concern for both him and Rory.
“Your chariot, sir,” Rory chirped, wheeling his chair into the room.
“How are you feeling, man?” Avery met his eyes, unashamed, so yeah, that was what it had to be. Concern.
“Better. I think I’ll take a hot shower at home and be good as new.” He glanced at Rory when he said it, and Rory beamed. Rory did love a shower.
“Let’s go. I’ll run into the store and grab steaks for us.”
“Works for me.” Luke grabbed the sweatpants and hoodie Avery handed him. “Same time next week, Ave?”
“I’ll see you Wednesday, Luke. Y’all have a great weekend! Stay warm!”
Rory wheeled him out, giving his arms a break. “Y’all looked serious when I got back.”
“Did we?”
“Yep.”
Luke handed Rory his crutches, which lay across his lap, once they got to the truck. “He says you have issues.”
“He’s a good guy.”
Okay. That was totally not the response Luke had expected. Not at all. Luke squinted at Rory when he came to assist in the chair-to-truck transfer. “That’s what I decided too. He’s as worried about you as he is me.”
“I don’t blame him.” Rory got him eased into the truck, which was easier every fucking time, then put his chair away.
When his lover climbed into the pickup, Rory closed the door and looked over at him.
“I’ll tell you what you want to know, but not in the truck.
That’s just wrong. We can talk at the house.
You’ve been in combat, honey. I got nothing to tell you that’s worse than what you’ve seen. ”
“I bet it will be worse to hear.” Luke reached over to touch Rory’s hand. “You tell me what you want when you want. I’m not pushing, but I know this has to be more than a grudge for someone seeing you drunk and silly, which is the rumor.”
“Whoever told you that was being good to me. I hope it was your momma.”
“It was. I don’t go asking around for people to talk trash about my lover, Rory.”
“No. There’s a lot to say. At home, huh?” Rory looked serious but not pissed.
“Okay.” He could totally understand that, and he let himself smile a little. “Steaks.”
“And potatoes. I got it.” Rory squeezed his hand. “I got you.”
“I know you do, babe.” That much he got. Did he worry about Rory when people were showing up at his house with guns? Shit, yeah. But he knew Rory had his back.
“Then we’ll figure it out.”
They would. They had to. Luke was teetering on the verge of getting his shit together.
He wasn’t gonna quit now.
Table of Contents
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- Page 37
- Page 38 (Reading here)
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