Page 92 of The Wounded Warrior

“Well, of course they are. They made you.” Luke gave Rory a real smile. “I just never have met anyone’s parents like this. Not ever.”

“I’ve never brought a lover home either, so we’re even.”

“Then this will be as new for them as it is for me.” Luke took a deep breath and popped open the door. “Let’s do it.”

He worked himself up on his crutches and Rory grabbed the wheelchair, moving alongside him. He was a good guy, and his family sounded like a hoot, so Luke relaxed as much as a guy could on crutches and clumped up the improvised ramp they’d put out for him.

“Hey, brother. She’s cooking everything in theFood Networkmagazine. Scary. You must be the boyfriend. I’m Ro.” The little gal was cute as hell—hair dyed black, black eyeliner, black clothes, the whole goth thing.

“Luke. Nice to meet you.” He smiled and she blinked.

“Wow. He’s totally hot, Rory. How did you do that?”

“I know his brother.”

“Oh. Well, come on.” She led the little parade back inside, and Luke couldn’t help chuckling.

“I like your Chucks, Ro.”

“Thanks. Rory got them for me.”

“He’s a good brother, huh?” Luke wanted to see how other people saw Rory.

“He’s not bad. He gets me.”

“Yeah. My older brother doesn’t get any of us, I don’t think.”

“No? Rory says you have a twin though, so that’s cool.”

“I do. A real cowboy. His name is Matt.” They walked into the kitchen, where a man sat at the table, and a lady maybe eight, ten years younger than his mom stood at the counter. “Hi, Luke LeBlanc.”

“Luke, we’re so pleased to meet you!” Mrs. McConnell stood and held out her hand. “I’m Helen and this is James.”

“Dr. McConnell.”

“Sir.”

Luke nodded. “I’ll shake hands if you like but it takes some maneuvering.” He hoped the man wasn’t ready to hate him.

“Have a seat, Luke. Seriously. We’re not real formal here.” Rory’s dad had a warm smile and Matt could see Rory in Jim’s face, clear as day.

“Hey, Mom. I brought whipped cream and coleslaw like you asked.”

“Thanks, honey. Would you like some iced tea or coffee, Luke?”

“Iced tea would be great.” He plopped down into a chair, grunting when he landed. Whoops.

“Rory, get your man some iced tea.”

“Sure, Mom. Can I make myself a glass too, or do I get to drink out of the dog bowl like Ro?”

“Cheeky!” She laughed and popped Rory with a towel.

Rory winked at him before going to the fridge. A few moments later, glasses of iced tea appeared on the table.

“Something smells really good,” Luke said.

“I made a brisket and potato salad and there’s brownies for dessert. I asked about allergies and preferences. Rory said you ate red meat.”

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