“Something like that.”
Izzy smiled faintly.
“I noticed.”
Grant watched the aisle where Cal had disappeared, then came back to her.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
Grant led the way out of the main barn, Steve trotting at his heels like a self-appointed bodyguard. They walked past the white paddocks, heading toward the higher ground where the older, red barn sat.
“So,” Izzy said, shifting her coffee mug to her other hand. “Cal Hollis. He seems like he’s used to getting exactly what he wants.”
Grant’s stride didn’t break, but he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Cal’s alright. He’s had a silver spoon in his mouth since he was in diapers, but he works his own cattle. He isn’t all suit.”
“Hollis Ridge Farm,” she mused, eyeing the massive truck still parked by the barn. “It’s a big operation.”
“The biggest in the county,” Grant said. “His father, Wade, built it up from nearly nothing back in the nineties. Land, timber, cattle—the Hollises own half the valley. They’re basically local royalty.”
Izzy caught the slight edge in his voice. Not resentment exactly. Just… history. “And you? Are you the rival kingdom?”
Grant stopped at a gate, his hand resting on the latch. He looked out over his own land—clean, precise, humbler in scale than the Hollis empire.
“I don’t play at kingdoms, Izzy. I raise horses.”
He opened the gate, gesturing for her to walk through. As she passed him, the scent of him—sun-warmed cotton and cedar—brushed against her.
“Cal’s a good guy,” Grant added, his voice dropping an octave as he followed her through. “But he’s a Hollis. They don’t hear the word “no” very often. Keep that in mind if he starts calling about those sunsets.”
Izzy smiled, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “Is that a warning, Scott? Or a request?”
Grant looked at her, his blue eyes as steady as the mountains behind him. “It’s a fact. Take it however you want.”
The look he gave her afterward didn’t feel like a fact.
It felt personal.
Desire curled low in her stomach.
Oh, she would.
6
Bridlepath Farm — The Tour
The sunlight hit warmer now, the chill lifting as the morning settled in.
Off to the side of the barn sat a small row of utility vehicles—two side-by-sides and a golf cart that looked like it had seen real use but was still kept clean.
Grant walked straight to the cart.
“You’ll use this to get around,” he said.
Izzy set her empty mug on the step beside it. “You hand these out to guests?”
“You’re not a guest.”
The answer came easy. Matter-of-fact.
