Charmed, I look down at the foal and then back up at Nate. His hair, which has gotten steadily longer and more blond than brunet the longer we’ve been here, sticks out the sides of his ball cap adorably. Behind him, the field of grassseems to intensify the color of his eyes, as though nature is an accessory meant to highlight his beauty.
He gave me a fucking horse.
“Could I ride him someday?” I ask, which has Nate looking, if possible, even happier than he was moments ago.
“Yeah! I’ll break him for you when he’s old enough. It’ll be a bit, though. He won’t be able to take a rider until he’s four or five years old. But this sort of thing”—he gestures to the lead rope—“helps a ton. Oh, and you can change the name if you want. ‘Tuna’ just caught on after I said it, but you can call him whatever you want.”
“I can’t change his name,” I argue indignantly. Nate laughs. “Thank you, though. That’s…he’s a pretty incredible gift.”
“Anything for my husband,” Nate says flippantly, lifting Tuna’s head and turning to keep walking.
“Marido,” I repeat under my breath, reaching for Nate’s hand and slipping my fingers between his. It’s not a label I’d ever thought would apply to me, but then again, I never thought living on a ranch in Montana was in my future either.
Nate smiles at me, eyes bright against his tan skin. “Can you believe it all started with a blowjob?”
“Not in front of the baby,” I admonish him, Tuna snorting happily behind us as we walk along in the sun.
EPILOGUE
Two Years Later
Nate
Max runsthe brush over Friday’s dark coat, expression serious as though it’s an incredibly important task and he’s trying to do it right. Opposite him, Luke brushes down Friday’s left side, chattering away and occasionally getting Max to laugh. Friday’s ears swivel, and she snorts as though she’s in on the joke as well.
“They’re still there?” Marcos asks, coming to stand next to where I’m leaned against the open barn door.
“Yeah. Going on”—I check my phone—“forty-five minutes. Friday is in horse heaven right now.”
Indeed, she’s standing with one back leg relaxed and her eyes closed. Every now and then, she puffs out her stomach and exhales contentedly.
“That horse has never been so clean.”
Max, apparently sensing the reappearance of his bestfriend, looks over and smiles. He pats Friday’s shoulder, smoothing down her now-shiny coat.
“How’s she look?” he asks.
“Perfect,” Marcos tells him, joining him at her side and scratching her neck. “Turns out I didn’t have to be worried about you being bummed that you couldn’t ride. Apparently, grooming is your thing.”
Max snorts. “When I told Coach I was coming, he said ‘Kuemper, I’ll have your ass if you fall off a fucking horse and break something.’”
“I amnotsharing your ass,” Luke puts in mildly from the other side of the horse. I laugh, less from the joke and more because of the expression on Marcos’ face once it was delivered. Stepping up behind him, close enough that my chest brushes his shoulder blades, I pass a hand down Friday’s face.
“You guys ready to see the house?”
“Absolutely,” Max agrees.
“I’ll bring Friday back to the pasture,” Luke adds cheerfully. His voice is barely audible over the clop of her hooves on the concrete as he leads Friday away, speaking to her as they go. “I’ll sneak you some carrots later, yeah? All the carrots you want, because you’re the best girl around.”
We all pile into my truck, Marcos riding shotgun, and Max and Luke side by side in the back. Luke tells us about wedding plans, with Max occasionally chiming in with a “yes, we are” or a “no, he made that up.” Marcos listens silently, corners of his mouth turned up in a smile as he looks out the windshield.
“I was thinking I might invite Coach Mackenzie,” Max says. Marcos and I both glance up at the rearview to look athim. “But that might be weird, I guess? I haven’t talked to him in a bit.”
“I think you should invite him,” Marcos says quietly. “You were really close with him when you played for the team.”
“Yeah,” Max agrees.
“I’d love to see him again,” I muse, thinking of Coach Mackenzie’s stern face and the way he always reminded me a bit of my uncle. “I miss playing for the team.”
