“I can handle that. But we’re in this together. I support you just like you do me.”
“Yeah. I hope you don’t end up regretting it. Me.”
“Hey, I hope every day that I don’t end up embarrassing you.” Luke turned him back around and handed him the soap. “My turn.”
“Yes, please.” He grinned and lathered his hands. “I live for this shit.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Luke liked the lake house a lot. It was a little fancy, but the view was amazing and the barbecue pit was a dream come true.
The third morning, though, Matt was calling him. “You ever coming home, Lulu?”
“Yep. We’ll leave midday today.” He knew he needed to get back to work, and Jake had texted about some legal shit.
“Good. How’s he doing? He lost his mind?”
“He’s hurting, but better every day.” Rory was bruised but not broken.
“Good on him. Tell him I said we got his back.”
“I will.” His family never ceased to amaze him. “Everything okay on your end?”
“Same old same old. Life. I think we got a bonus horse dropped off at your place and there’s a dog wandering around. She’s had puppies, but I can’t catch shit.”
“Rory said he’d seen a pregnant dog. I’ll get on it when I get back.” Life was never dull in the country. “It’ll be good to get home. I imagine I’ll stay at Rory’s tonight, come back in the morning.”
“Sure, man. Hell, he needs you there, you stay. You can come back for feeding and shit.”
“You rock, Matty. Thanks for understanding.”
“No prob. Just keep in mind his family is losing their collective shits. They’ll want to see him.”
“I hear that. He’s called home. Helen was pissed.”
“I bet. Can you imagine Momma if we disappeared like that?”
“She called this morning,” Luke said.
“Right. Did you get a lecture?” Matty sounded damn near gleeful. “She’s been crawling up my ass for days.”
“She blistered my ears.” Luke shook his head ruefully. “She wants lunch this week to make up for Sunday.”
“Oh man. Take her to Red Lobster in Greenville.”
“Shit, man. I’m getting home and I’m not driving farther than the Rocking W for a month. I’m still sore.”
“So offer to buy for Preacher, too. He loves their biscuits.”
“Yeah. I bet Rory would drive too.” Actually, he’d put money down on Rory coming to lunch at Momma’s. Those two got along like a house afire.
“I bet he would. He’s the fishy type.”
Rory was actually a brisket-loving Texan, but he liked his shrimp, too. “You want anything from West?” Luke asked.
“Pecan rolls. Raisin bread. Jalapeno kolaches—six of ’em. No, get me a dozen.”
“Damn. You eating for two?”