“You’re matching me up with a pig farmer?” He shrugs. “Or whatever it is that decent men do when they’re not at war. Although he should be able to protect you. Don’t settle for a man who can’t protect you.” He rips a piece of tape from the dispenser with a surprising amount of force. “You’re serious? You want me to marry a pig farmer who knows how to use his pig poke to protect me? Really?”
