“Huh. Can’t say that’s a combination you see every day.” He almost made a joke, but with Jason as his only audience, it didn’t entirely seem worth the effort.

Jason scratched the back of his neck, glancing off the side of the porch. He lowered his voice. “Stacia’s parents have never been great at holding a job. Back in high school, she was always running around here with Andra, soles of her shoes falling half off, jeans all stained up and ripped. Dad started paying her to cook for everybody, then when he found out she knew how to change oil, he paid her more to work on all the ranch trucks.”

Jason paused with his hand on the doorknob and smirked.

“You’re lucky you didn’t hire on a few years ago. We were all eating grilled cheese for a long time. She was faster learning the car stuff, mostly because she figured out there were YouTube videos of everything.” He opened the door. “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Understood.” LJ came inside, wondering why he hadn’t seen the women together, if she had been Andra’s best friend since childhood.

Jason led him through a high-ceilinged, rough-beamed foyer and into a dining room sparkling with windows. The space was dominated by a scarred oak slab of a table so battered that it immediately transformed the mansion-sized room into a home.

A woman slid a big pan of meatloaf into the center of the table, curly brown hair swinging around her round face. She turned, and LJ struggled not to stare at her shirt. It was a Harley-Davidson tank that left her toned shoulders bare, the skull picture on the front outlined with a glitter of purple sequins.

“That old flatbed’s engine get the best of you yet, Stace? Heard you cursing again today.” Jason took off his hat with a smile and dropped it onto one of the hooks lining the wall. LJ hung his battered old cowboy hat on the next peg, glad to have ditched the too-tight job-interview Stetson back at his new apartment.

“No, but that roping horse sure got the best of you when you dropped your loop over your own fat head,” Stacia said. “You were hoping nobody saw, weren’t you?”

He coughed once into his fist. “Stacia, this is LJ. He’s starting our colts.”

“Don’t change the subject, and don’t you dare sit at my table without washing those hands you just coughed into, Jason Lawler.” Stacia turned her blue eyes on LJ and smiled. “We’re happy to have your help. I know your apartment has a kitchen, but you’re always welcome up here. If you can stand the company.”