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Chapter Twenty-Nine

R ory bought steaks and potatoes, a bag of fancy salad and some Hawaiian rolls, along with a cherry pie. Luke had said he’d bake, but after Rory said his piece, who knew.

Christ, he had a headache. Maybe he should have asked Avery for a massage, too. Asshole owed him.

Luke was quiet on the drive back from the store, but he didn’t seem mad. More like he was trying to respect Rory’s space.

It was maddening.

He got Luke back in his chair, grabbed his laptop and the groceries and Luke’s crutches and got them all inside. Then he did the normal stuff—started the potatoes, fed the cats, plugged in his phone and his computer. “I’m going to change out of my work clothes.”

“You want to come have a shower with me?”

The fact that Luke asked eased something inside him, even if he thought it might be odd now.

“I do.” He stopped and met Luke’s gaze. “Thank you.”

“Hey.” Luke held out a hand, little blisters across the top of the palm from walking the bars with Avery. “I’m in for the long haul, even though we haven’t talked about it. The telling is important, I think, but it’s not gonna make me run.”

He took Luke’s hand. “It damn near broke me, and I swear to God, I will break Doug Harris until there is nothing left.”

Luke nodded slowly. “I just want you to be safe while you’re dismantling his empire. Come on. I stink.”

Rory knew Luke was more than a little in love with his bathroom. He had a huge walk-in shower with seats, with a rain shower and detachable shower heads. It fit them both in a number of delicious ways and he loved washing Luke, touching Luke all over.

This was what he needed. He stripped down after he got the water going, and it took mere moments to have steam filling the shower stall.

“Come on, honey,” Rory said. “Let’s get you in.”

Rory stripped down, put towels in the warmer and turned the lights low, leaving them in a private, quiet space. Rory easily helped Luke up and in, then down onto a bench. Luke was already so much stronger.

He sat close, closed his eyes and tried to breathe, but his chest felt so tight.

It was one thing to live day in and day out with his plan to take down Doug Harris. It was another to talk about the past. To Luke. He wanted Luke to be proud of being his lover, to admire him.

Of course, everyone had already heard about it. Everyone in town knew.

“I was… I was nineteen, between college and law school and Harris invited me over to meet some of the local guys. I wanted to be able to have contacts. Dad doesn’t work here, you know? He’s not into the good old boy network and I th ought… I was nineteen and trying hard, you have to understand.”

When he opened his eyes, Luke was watching him, brown eyes dark and serious. “I get that.”

“There were five of us. Hank Lloyd, Chris Baker, Fred Miller and Harris. We had supper and had a drink. One drink. I don’t know what was in it, but I know we had supper at seven p.m. and I woke up at midnight with them all naked.

Harris was slapping me with his dick and screaming names at me.

There were pictures—lots of my face, none of theirs. ”

“Jesus.” Luke caught his hand again, holding on. “Why?”

“I was out of the closet. I was the golden son of someone that didn’t play their game.

I think Harris wanted to blackmail me into working for him.

It didn’t work. He couldn’t touch my folks.

I brazened it out.” He’d gone to law school, refused to hide his face, then used the inheritance his pappy had left him to put his plan into motion.

“I was nineteen. I didn’t know that they would hurt me. ”

“God.” Luke squeezed his hand. “They didn’t…did they hurt you?”

“I don’t have any diseases from it. They used condoms, you could tell from the photos. I don’t remember it.” He didn’t remember, and he’d moved on. Mostly. For the most part.

“So it was a fucking power play. They got off on it. You think Harris is a closet-case?” Luke’s voice had gone cold. Hard.

Rory had a feeling if Luke ever saw Harris again he might try to kill the man.

“I think he wanted to ruin something and I was there. Now I’m going to ruin him.” Rory sucked in one deep breath after another, because he wasn’t ashamed, but…this was Luke, for fuck’s sake. He needed Luke to want him, see him.

“I love you.” He didn’t expect to hear it, and for a moment Rory thought it was just sympathy, just Luke feeling bad for him, which would be worse than fucking pathetic.

Then he looked into Luke’s eyes again and he knew it was the dead truth. Solid and sure and real.

“I love you too, Luke. I’m sorry there’s a story to tell.”

“Me too, but I can’t even blame you for the vendetta. I mean, I would take his ass down.”

“Everyone thinks I was drunk, I came onto them, I embarrassed myself. I didn’t. I had one glass of wine.”

“I’m so sorry, babe. You had to be so nervous, so excited to make contacts.” Luke shook his head, droplets of water flying. “Nothing is ever what everyone thinks, is it?”

“No.” He didn’t have anything else but that. Maybe ‘don’t hate me’, but they’d already gone over that with the ‘I love yous’, and besides, it was a little teenager of him.

“We all have our shit to deal with, babe.” Luke laughed, the sound a tiny bit harsh.

“More than thirty missions, and you know what takes me out? A frickin’ IED on the side of the road when I’m on my way to a three day in the Qatar country club.

Every time someone thanks me for my service I feel like this huge fake. ”

He winced, reached for Luke’s leg. “That’s no fucking fair.”

“No. My first R&R in nearly a year and a half.” Luke sighed.

“Broke both femurs. Shattered a kneecap and an ankle. Mangled my left hip. I mean shit, babe, I know I’m lucky.

Two guys in the same transport lost limbs and one had a traumatic brain injury.

” Luke pulled him closer, fingers around his wrist. “It took Matt and the new ranch and you to make me feel lucky, though.”

“I’m glad I could. I wanted you when I first saw you, and I know I seem like a slut, but—After all the shit that happened, I just… I wanted to take control of coming on to someone. Is that reasonable? ”

“Absolutely. Fuck sitting around feeling like it’s your fault.” Luke nodded as if that was that, then grabbed the soap to start washing them both.

The touches felt sure, normal, and he thanked God for them. He didn’t want to be broken. This was too important to lose over something like that asshole Harris.

Rory was no idiot. He knew Luke was worried about him, about potential violence. They had shit to work through. But this—this was good.

“I’m glad you’re here, Luke.” Simple and true. No more secrets. No more shame.

“Me too.” That smile was open, honest and so Luke it made Rory grin back. “I’m glad you have a huge hot water heater.”

“What can I say, honey? I’m a hedonist.”

“Mmmhmm.” Luke scooted a little on the bench to reach Rory’s hair.

He leaned and begged the touches—he needed this. Needed Luke.

Luke lathered up his hair then dug in lightly, just enough to be a good head massage. His headache eased right away as his muscles relaxed.

“Oh, God. God, thank you.”

“I got you, I told you that.” Thumbs rubbing deep, Luke moved down his neck.

“You did.” And Luke knew what had happened and it was okay. Well, not okay that it happened, but things were fine with Luke.

Luke kissed the back of his neck after rinsing his hair, sliding both arms around him. That hug took away the rest of his tension.

“Mmm. Did I tell you I bought a cherry pie in case you wanted to cheat for dessert?”

“Oh, yum. I can so go there. ”

“I thought it was a decent idea.”

“Thanks, babe. I’m pretty wore out.” Luke looked great, though, his muscles standing out from hard work.

“You worked your ass off, but it’s Friday. I can pamper you all night.”

“Oh, now.” Luke stroked his back, fingers finding the bumps of his spine and rubbing to ease the muscles. “I like the sound of that.”

“Do you?” He shifted around and offered Luke his lips. “Kiss me?”

Luke slid one hand behind his head to tug him close. Those lips met his, hot and damp and eager. He sobbed once, so fucking grateful that Luke wasn’t pulling away, wasn’t put off.

He had no idea how he would react to his history if he didn’t know it. Then again, Luke really expected to be rejected for not being the hero everyone thought he was.

Luke was a hero. His.

He touched one mangled leg, loving on it, thanking God that Luke had been strong enough to survive. Luke never even stiffened, used to his touch now. Trusting him.

He’d explored every inch, after all, with his tongue. Rory knew he’d proven he wasn’t disgusted or freaked out.

“I’m getting pruney. Wanna go, uh, have a rest before supper?”

“The potatoes will sit happily and the steaks are fine until we cook them.”

“And the pie just needs cream, so…” Luke beamed, and he knew he was in for some good loving.

“So we can go share amazing orgasms and a nap.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed even darker, and Rory knew it had nothing to do with the hot water. “Yep. Boom.”

“I want to suck you, honey. It’s been days.”

“Please. Oh, God.” Luke turned off the water.

Rory grabbed the towels, because they would need Luke mostly dry before he got back in the chair, and crutching in the damp tile was just wrong.

By the time they were in bed, they were laughing, having danced like a pair of drunk bears to get it all handled.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told himself.

It had to be. This was the life he’d always dreamed of. He couldn’t give it up now.