“That’s better,” he said. “‘Callum’ sounds like I’m in trouble.”
“Should I assume that happens often?”
“Only when I deserve it.”
She smiled.
Grant’s eyes narrowed.
Cal tipped his chin toward Grant briefly.
“You still running that south line the same way?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good,” Cal said. “Worked fine last time.”
A beat passed.
Then Cal’s attention shifted right back to Izzy.
“So,” he said, “how long are you in Sylva?”
“Undetermined.”
“That’s my favorite kind of timeline.”
He stepped a little closer—not crowding, narrowing the space.
“I’d love to show you around,” he said.
Izzy’s brows lifted.
Cal smiled.
Grant exhaled quietly through his nose.
Cal didn’t look at him.
“My family’s been here four generations,” he went on. “I know every road, every overlook, every place worth seeing—and a few that aren’t on any map.”
Izzy tilted her head. “All the pretty places?”
“All of them,” he said. “And I’d be happy to show you while you’re here.”
“You always offer guided tours to women you meet while dropping off horses,” she asked, “or did I catch a special?”
He smiled, unbothered. “Naomi would say I flirt with everyone at the barn. She’s not entirely wrong.”
Naomi coughed. “That’s because you do.”
He pulled his phone from his back pocket and held it out to her.
“Here,” he said. “If that doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, put your number in.”
Izzy stared at it.
Then at him.
