Chapter Thirty-Nine

L uke scrawled his signature on the form the inspector handed him. The main ranch house was the last thing to get approval, as he’d had to improve the older bathrooms with ADA-approved materials and layouts.

That was it, though. They were done. Fifteen fucking months and they were done. “Thanks for coming out,” he told the inspector, Lane, who was very used to his face now.

“Congratulations, buddy.” Lane clapped him on the shoulder, careful not to tip him over. He was on his crutches a lot lately. He had too much shit to do to get up and down all the time.

The chair was mostly reserved for nights at home when he was Rory, who didn’t give a shit if he was too tired to do more than sit on his ass for an hour or two.

“Thanks.” He beamed, because the place looked like a cross between a vacation lodge and a really swank rehab facility. “I’m pleased as punch. We have two clients coming in next week.”

“Already? Good on you! I bet you do a shit load of good. How many horses you running? ”

“I’ve got two riding horses and four rescues who need a lot of love. A donkey. A llama.” The momma dog he and Rory had finally found in a hay barn wandered up, her teats swinging. “This lady. We named her Mother Goose.”

“Oh, that’s great. How many pups?”

“Twelve. You need a shepherd pit mix pup? They’ll be ready in about six more weeks.”

“I totally do. I need a new ratter, a male. Miss Bisby is getting on in age.”

“You got it. There’s a real energetic boy who looks like his daddy, I reckon. More pit than shepherd like this girl.”

“Mark him for me, then. I’ve got to get on, but I’ll come by with the missus and check him out in a few weeks.”

“Will do.” They shook hands one more time before Lane left. Luke pulled out his phone and tapped out a note. Number 3 pup for Lane . Then he called Rory.

“Hey, honey, I’m going to be home in twenty. How’s it going?”

“We got approved.” He fist-pumped even if Rory couldn’t see him, making Mother dance. “Sorry, girl. C’mere.”

“All right! I told you it would happen this time. I’ll grab a bottle of champagne and head to the ranch. Call Matt.”

“I will. Love you.” He hung up just to call Matt’s number.

“Yo.”

“We got approved. Rory’s bringing bubbly. Come over?”

“Be there in ten.” He knew Matt was grinning—he could hear it. “I knew it five minutes ago, Lulu.”

“I know, but I had to call.” He wanted to tell the whole damned world.

“Call Preacher. He’ll want to know. See you soon.” Click.

Asshole.

He dialed Preacher next, then John, who had done a website for him and walked him through setting up secure Wi-Fi and shit .

By the time that was done, he was fucking exhausted and his lover’s pickup was rolling down the gravel drive.

Luke headed back in to find his chair. His legs were shaking, the adrenaline getting to him. Damn, this was really going to happen. His fucking dream.

Rory came in with a bag of tacos, some limes, a six-pack of Coronas and a bottle of champagne. Impressive. A tower of efficiency, his Rory.

“Hey, babe.” He wheeled out to the big porch and waited, grinning like a newborn fool.

“Hello, Mr. Rancher Man. I come bearing Rocking W-warming gifts.” Rory was all grins. The weekends at the ranch were making his lover bronzed, buff in a way no gym ever could, and even with a hat, that hair was going white-blond.

“Hey, lover. Get over here and congratulate me before Matt comes.”

“Ooh.” Rory’s eyes lit up. “Are you talking hugs and frenching congratulations, blow job congratulations or riding you like a prize pony congratulations?”

“Butthead.” Luke held his arms wide open. “Kiss me and we’ll hold off on the rest until Matt’s gone.”

“Mmm. I like the idea of christening the place.”

Rory kissed him hard, and it made Luke’s voice hoarse when he said, “Like we haven’t made love in here.”

“Not in here after it passed inspection!”

“True.” They definitely needed to remedy that.

The scratch of tires on gravel had them laughing, Matt breaking up the moment. That was okay. Matty had as much to do with this as they did.

Rory settled on his lap, making huge, foul sex noises as Matty walked up the steps.

“I will kill you, man.” Matty’s grin was wide, though, and he held his twin’s gaze. They’d done it. It was going to be real.

“We did it,” Luke said aloud, mainly for Rory’s benefit. “The VA guy starts Monday, and our first clients arrive Wednesday.”

“Well, I guess we have some busy days ahead of us.” Matt sniffed. “Do I smell tacos?”

“How does he do that?” Rory asked.

“We LeBlancs have excellent sniffers.” Luke wrinkled up his nose.

“Good to know.” Rory kissed his jaw, his lips moving over his skin.

“You two stop it,” Matty growled. “Where’s the grub?”

“Champagne first.” Rory hopped up, headed for the kitchen. He looked over his shoulder first, with an evil grin. “Don’t worry, Matt. I’ll serve it in a red Solo cup, that way you’ll know what to do with it.”

“Yep. I will shove it up your smart ass, McConnell. How the hell did I end up stuck with you as a future in-law?”

“You were a very, very good little boy?”

Luke hooted. “I’m the bad twin, which is how I got you.”

“Exactly! You know how long I looked for my own personal demon?” Rory disappeared, laughing as he went, and Matty shook his head.

“Lord have mercy, that man is something else. I bet he keeps you busy for a long damn time.”

“That’s the plan, Matty. I swear, it’s never a dull moment.” He grabbed Matt’s hand before he could walk into the house. “Hey. Thank you. For everything. I never could have imagined this life, but I could never ask for better.”

“I love you, Lulu.” Matt squeezed his hand, then headed in.

Simple as that. He grinned, shook his head. “I love you too, asshole.”

Then he rolled himself in so they could all celebrate.