“Mind my manners, I know. I love you, too, Mama.” He hesitated, searching for another question that might give him a better idea of whether she was sick, but she’d already hung up.

He tapped the phone against his lips, squeezing it too tightly. If she was headed into another one of her lows, she’d have to tell him because he’d need to take some time off to help out. He was probably worrying for nothing, when he should be focused on his career.

It wasn’t only this job he was looking at losing. The horse-showing world was small and gossipy, not to mention whiter than a snowstorm. If Bill Lawler talked his reputation down, he’d have a hard time getting any job in the equine world that paid better than working a drive-through window. His mama was right. The smarter thing would be to do as he was told instead of pretending there would be no consequences for pursuing what he wanted.

Andra had said he was making things better for her, not worse. She was the one whose opinion mattered. And yet if her dad knew he was still spending time alone with Andra, he’d lose everything. His chance with her, his chance at a new life. Any possibility that he was actually helping, like she’d claimed.

“What, so you think you can take up the whole barn aisle, not leave anything for the rest of us?”

The sound of Andra’s voice felt like the whole world tapping him on the shoulder. His pulse jumped, and he cleared his throat before he turned around, the lightness of her tone tugging up the corner of his lips. “I wouldn’t dare. Not if it meant taking on your fists again.”

“What do you mean, again?” Andra scoffed, lifting Snap’s crossties so she could lead a bay gelding underneath to the next set. “It’s not like I beat you up every time you take the crossties closest to the tack room. Though maybe I should.”

Screw her dad. Andra sounded happy. When he’d first started working here, she’d never sounded like anything, because she’d hardly spoken.

LJ stuffed his phone into his pocket and raised his eyebrows. “I was talking about what you did to me last night.” He started unbuttoning his shirt.

Andra stopped with her hand on the crossties. “Uh . . . LJ?”

He sauntered closer, enjoying the way her eyes followed every button. He spread the two sides of his shirt open, and his smirk widened into a grin. “See that?”

“Oh my God. I didn’t.”

“You sure enough did. Look.” He took her hand, fitting her knuckles to the bruise on his ribs. “Fits like Cinderelly’s shoe. This beauty’s going to go every shade of purple before it fades, I can tell. I’m impressed.”