Not her.
Wanting something he couldn’t control.
“It’s the truth,” he said, voice flat. “You live in Denver. I live here. No version of this works. I’m being realistic.”
Izzy stepped forward. Her eyes burned—bright, sharp, unyielding.
“You’re right about one thing, Scott.” Her voice cut clean. “There is no version of this that works.”
A beat.
“Because no way in hell would I stay here. In this place. With a man who treats a night like that like a chore he forgot to cancel.”
“Izzy—”
“Don’t.”
She turned before the tears could catch up to her and walked out of the kitchen without looking back.
* * *
The Main Barn — One Hour Later
Izzy rolled down the driveway with purpose in the golf cart.
She’d spent thirty minutes in the mirror. The Denver armor was back on—and sharper today. Expensive sunglasses. The kind of jeans that cost more than a saddle. She looked like she was heading to a gallery opening, not a working farm.
Caitlin was already there, leaning against the gate of the outdoor arena. She looked up. Didn’t say a word, just studied Izzy’s face—then flicked her gaze across the yard to Grant.
He was by the fence with a yearling, pretending to check a hoof. Not fooling anyone.
The air between them was charged, heavy, waiting.
“Well,” Caitlin said softly. “That is a very specific kind of energy you’re carrying this morning.”
Izzy adjusted her glasses. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar,” Caitlin murmured. She glanced toward the house, then back at Izzy. “You and Grant look like you’re about to start a blood feud.”
The sound of an engine cut through the quiet. Not a farm truck.
A high-end silver Escalade rolled up the drive, polished to a mirror finish. The door opened, and Cal Hollis stepped out, easy and smooth in a tailored jacket. His cologne cut through the smell of hay and manure, sharp and clean, like the city.
He took in the tension in one quick glance—and smiled anyway.
“Well now,” he said, heading toward them. “You ladies are looking lovely this morning. A man could get used to a view like this.”
Across the yard, Grant went still. Didn’t look up. His shoulders went iron-hard.
Cal stopped in front of Izzy. Didn’t even glance toward Grant.
“I was coming to see if the lovely Isabella might want to join me for brunch at the club,” he said. “Change of scenery. Better coffee than you’ll find around here.”
Izzy paused. Then she glanced at Caitlin. “You want to come?”
Cal smiled immediately, smooth as ever. “Of course, Miss Caitlin is welcome.”
Caitlin hesitated, cutting a quick look toward Grant’s stiff shoulders before offering Izzy a small, knowing shrug. “I can’t,” she said. “Got called into the museum early. Joann’s under the weather.”
