Page 18 of The Wounded Warrior

“Come on, now. You’re a hero and all, but I?—”

Luke didn’t monologue. He grabbed the old man’s wrist, spun Harris about and had the thick, meaty arm behind the guy’s back before his driver could get out of the truck.

“I am a Navy Motherfucking SEAL. I have caused more damage before pancakes and sausage than anyone you’ve ever met. You get off my land and do it quick before I show you some of the tricks I learned involving explosives.”

“I’ll have you for assault…”

Matt laughed, a short bark of sound. “On my land? Who’s the sheriff gonna believe? You’re trespassing.”

“Not only that, but I’m wheelchair-bound. A decorated war veteran. Fuck off and tell your muscle that if he pulls that rifle out of the truck, I’ll fuck him with it.”

Harris staggered forward when Luke let go. “You’ll pay for this,” the old man blustered. But he waved off the hired muscle and headed back to the truck.

“Undoubtedly. Question is, is it worth you collecting? Make sure you ask yourself that.”

Harris gave them what was no doubt meant to be a death glare and roared out of the yard.

Matt laughed a little, coming to put a hand on his shoulder. “My brother the stud. You’re something else, you know that? That was amazing.”

All Luke could do was snort. “He’s a rich, soft old man. His rotten core makes it easy to hit him where he lives, which is in constant fear.”

“Still, if you weren’t my brother, that would have been hot.”

“I’m totally telling Mom you said that.”

“Oh fuck, no. She’d put me in therapy.” Matt squeezed his shoulder. “How about some lunch? Lupper? What time is it?”

“We’re unloading feed, first, ‘o distracted one. Pay attention.”

“Right. Sorry.” Matt nodded, moving away so they could get back to work.

“Then I was thinking beer and burgers on the grill.” Luke rolled up and put on his brakes.

“I like it. I got bacon and blue cheese.”

“Uhn.” The yummy sound was pure instinct.

“Yep. I liked the mushroom swiss okay, but—” Matt stopped, tilting his head. “You hear that? Sounds like Rusty barking his fool head off.”

He frowned, pushed himself up on the chair arms. “You see anything?”

“No. Shit, I hope he doesn’t have another copperhead or something.”

“He’s been bit enough that he’d just swell some.” Lord, had he just said that? Had that been him? What the ever-loving fuck was wrong with him? Country boy, ahoy.

Matt started up toward the main road, tromping across the tall grasses. Cussing. Luke had to grin, because he got out of shit like that right now thanks to the wheelchair.

“You see anything?” he yelled.

“No!” Matt was disappearing on the horizon, so Luke shrugged, figuring he’d finish moving what feed sacks he could.

He really wanted that burger.

Chapter Eleven

“Text Lori,” Rory told his hands-free. He waited for the prompt, then went on. “Get brisket for bonfire on—shit!”

He damned near ran off the road in order to miss the bay mare standing in the middle of it, staring at him. He squealed to a halt, the tires throwing gravel.

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