Page 200 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

"It's straight."

"I know."

He sets it down.

"You ever going to tell her?"

I don't have to ask what he means.

"Yeah."

"When?"

I tighten the last bolt.

"Next time I see her, maybe."

"You know when that'll be?"

"No."

Jack nods.

"Okay."

I look at him.

"That's it?"

"You already know what I think."

He's right. We've known each other too long to keep having the same conversation just because neither of us likes the answer. He pushes away from the post.

"Come on. There's somebody I want you to meet."

We cross the yard toward the main building. A man I haven't seen before is standing near the steps with a duffel over one shoulder. He’s in his mid-thirties, maybe, quiet, taking in the barns and fields with the careful attention of someone trying to understand a place before deciding where he fits in it. Jack stops beside him.

"Javi, this is Logan."

I hold out my hand.

"Javier Martinez."

His grip is firm.

"Logan."

"Welcome to Oakridge Veterans Farm."

His gaze moves briefly toward the fields.

"Thanks for having me."

"You hungry?"

The corner of his mouth lifts.

"Usually."