To get into another stable with a record like the Lawlers boasted, he might be looking at ten years of lunging horses for minimum wage before he could do any real training. God, he didn’t want to go home—back to holding manure rakes at the City Park stables and busboy tubs at night.

LJ crossed the room, ducking as he passed beneath a low-hanging chandelier of elk antlers. The big leather chair huffed beneath his weight when he sat down. This whole house felt solid, safe from howling hurricane winds and softened with country touches, like horses were a way of life for everyone. Not just for the people who could afford the City Park stable fees.

He took off his hat, exposing the close-cropped hair he’d freshly buzzed before he came over. He’d bought a set of clippers before he moved up here, knowing there wouldn’t be a barber for miles that would know what to do with his hair.

LJ turned his hat in his hands, then settled on putting it in the chair next to his. “We got off on the wrong foot the other day, but I wanted you to know I didn’t mean any disrespect toward you or your daughter. I was just—” He searched for how to explain the reasoning behind his particular brand of lowbrow humor when it came to Andra. “I think people are too careful around her sometimes. I think it makes her feel uncomfortable.” But no, that wasn’t quite right. “Or left out, or something.”

LJ tried not to wince at his fumbling. His debate coach from college would be so depressed by his performance right now. When he was debating anything he cared about, he got too impassioned and forgot to use his prepared points or to school his accent.

Bill’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “I doubt the lack of flirting around the stable yard is what makes her uncomfortable.”

“I don’t make her uncomfortable.” Shit, why had he said it that way? “Sir,” he tacked on. “She likes me.”

Bill’s bushy eyebrows shot up.

“I mean, what I meant to say was we’ve become friends. That’s all.” As true as they were, the words tasted like a lie. That hadn’t been all they were since way before she’d kissed him. He wanted to know her, and it was a weird, mixed-up wanting that wasn’t exactly about sex or romance or even friendship. It was more he wished she were permanent, like family. Wanting her in his bed was only a part of that huge, wordless dream.

LJ waited, inhaling a breath that smelled smooth like leather polish. The familiar scent should have put him at ease, but instead he started to sweat in the hollows where his arms were pressed against his sides.