He turned and led the horse down the aisle.
Izzy watched him go.
Then looked back at Callum.
He smiled.
Slow.
Confident.
“Callum Hollis,” he said. “And I’m going to need more than a name.”
Izzy lifted a brow. “That seems like a lot for a first meeting.”
“It is,” he agreed, clearly entertained. “But I feel like we’re up to it.”
She smiled despite herself. “Izzy.”
“Just Izzy?” he asked.
“For now.”
“I don’t love that,” he said easily. “Feels like you’re holding out on me.”
“Maybe I am.”
Callum laughed.
“I like you already.”
Grant stepped back into the aisle.
They were still talking.
Callum leaned easy against the stall door, one arm draped over the top rail like he had nowhere else to be. Izzy stood across from him, coffee in hand, listening—but not leaning in, not giving anything away.
Grant’s shoulders stiffened.
He ignored it.
“Stall three,” he said. “He’ll settle in fine.”
Callum cut him a quick look, then let his gaze slide back to Izzy, a hint of a grin pulling at his mouth.
“Appreciate it,” he said. “We were getting properly introduced.”
Grant nodded once.
“Looks like it.”
Callum straightened and held out his hand again.
“Callum Hollis,” he said, then with an easy shift, “but you can call me Cal. Everyone does.”
Izzy switched her coffee to her other hand and took his.
“Cal,” she said. “Alright.”
