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She hugs her elbows and juts out her chin. “The last time you surprised me, I was grilled by a psychopath, ate humble pie over my post-traumatic corpse brain, and spent an entire day charming the socks off your fans while fueled by cherries jubilee cupcakes.”

I smirk. “And you loved every second.”

“That is completely irrelevant,” she sniffs.

I dangle the blindfold and wait. “God.” She throws her arms up. “I hate your patience.”

“That isn’t what you said in my bathtub.”

“Cheap shot.”

“Blindfold.”

She snatches it from my hand. Victory.

Ten minutes later, I’m leading her down the gravel drive. My phone is already recording from a tripod near the lower meadow. Whether any of this makes it onto Jubilage will be her decision later.

“If you walk me into a tree, I’m suing.”

Ahead of us, Owen shifts against the fence. Beside him, Alice paws once at the packed earth. Jubilee freezes, fingers clamping around mine, and her blindfolded face turns slowly toward me. “What was that?”

“Bird,” I lie.

“That was a thousand-pound bird.”

“A Jurassic Park subspecies.”

“Gage.” Her voice cracks into a whimper. “I am in a very fragile state.”

Another hoof strikes the gravel, followed by the unmistakable huff of a horse blowing through her nostrils. Jubilee sucks in a breath. “Is that a fucking horse?”

I guide her several more steps, then move behind her.

Alice waits in the pale October sunlight, a sixteen-year-old sorrel Quarter Horse with a white blaze and one sock on her left hind leg. Calm, experienced, and forgiving enough for a rusty rider without feeling like the equine equivalent of training wheels. Owen holds her reins, knuckles stroking her muzzle.

My arm slides around Jubilee’s middle. “Ready?”

“No, because I already know there’s a horse. If you take this off and it’s actually a llama, our relationship may not survive.”

“Unnecessarily hostile toward llamas.”

“Gage,” she groans.

I pull the blindfold away, and every ounce of restless energy drains out of her. Alice lifts her head. Jubilee’s knees buckle. I catch her as the tears start. Fuck. I leave the phone where it is and wrap both arms around her from behind.

“Oh, my God.” Her voice comes out so small, I lower my mouth beside her ear. “That’s a horse.”

“I’m relieved we agree.”

She laughs through her fingers and elbows me.

“This is Owen. His farm borders mine along the south trail.” I nod toward the mare. “Alice lives there with her own routine and her own people. Full disclosure, Princess. She isn’t permanent.”

Jubilee twists halfway around in my arms. Those wet blue-violet eyes are already glittering. “But?”

“But I arranged riding privileges for you for the week. Whenever Owen or one of his staff is around. His trails connect to mine.”

She touches her throat. “What?”