She hugged him and then stepped back to adjust the collar of his shirt, even though it was both dusty and sweaty from a day of working Lawler horses at his uncle’s ranch.

“I’m not headed to church, Mama,” he protested, squirming a little.

“You might want to look nice. Andra’s in there with a surprise,” Mama said in an undertone.

What kind of surprise required his mother to wait out on the porch?

He glanced at the house, his pulse perking up. Last year in Montana, Andra had decided she wanted to be more comfortable naked, so they’d cranked the heat and she’d stopped wearing clothes in their cottage for a month.

It was pretty well his favorite thing that had ever happened.

“I’d, ah, better go see what it is,” he said, edging away from his mother’s fingers.

She gave him a stern look. “Don’t you laugh at her now, Lyndon Johnson. What seems funny to one person doesn’t necessarily seem funny to another.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.” He’d promise most anything right now if it’d get her to turn loose of his collar so he could see about his surprise.

She patted his shoulder. “Good. Now I’m going to go have a nice, long visit with Mona. And she might want me to stay for dinner.”

“Okay, have a good time.” He was already halfway up the porch steps, loving his mama more by the second, but his phone rang in his pocket before he made it to the door. He checked the screen and gritted his teeth against a groan when he saw Bill Lawler’s name. What was his luck with getting cock-blocked by parents today?

But he knew he’d answer, because Bill called him mostly for business matters, and he liked that he’d earned that respect from the older man.

When he’d first come back to Montana, Bill had swapped hostility for chilly politeness. As they fixed a few miles of fence, that politeness had eased to a working rapport. The first time they’d shod a horse together, Bill had actually cracked a joke—and admitted that LJ could shape a shoe faster than he ever could. He hadn’t thought, years ago when he sat sweating in the guest chair of Bill’s office, that he’d ever be comfortable sharing a beer with the other man. A lot of things had changed since then.

“Hey, Bill. How’re things back at the ranch?”

“Fine, good. Except Stacia won’t lay off about that terrible blood pressure diet my idiot doctor told her about. How’s Rose? Did that cough of hers turn into anything more?”

“No, the doctor said it was nothing. Thanks for asking, though.”