Chapter 5 #2
The grin that followed wasn’t shocked so much as delighted, like the universe had handed him a bonus round.
“Well, well,” he said, pushing his sunglasses up as he walked in. “What do we have here?”
Izzy felt the attention land.
Grant stepped forward, already taking the lead rope Callum handed him.
“Horse first,” Grant said.
Callum didn’t take his eyes off Izzy.
“Grant,” he said mildly, “you cannot expect me to ignore this situation.”
Grant’s jaw tightened—barely. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Enough for him to.
He didn’t answer.
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.”
“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.
Then, briefly—at Grant.
He was watching.
She took the phone.
She wasn’t sure who she was saying yes to—Cal, or the part of her that liked being watched. “Alright,” she said. “But if this turns into daily updates about sunsets, I’m blocking you.”
Cal grinned. “You say that like sunsets aren’t worth discussing.”
She entered her number and handed it back.
“We’ll see.”
He slipped the phone into his pocket, satisfaction flickering across his face and gone again.
“I’ll make it worth it,” he said.
Grant shifted his weight.
“That horse needs to be walked,” he said.
Cal turned toward him.
A flicker of something there—recognition, maybe amusement.
“Yeah,” he said. “Naomi can do it.”
Naomi laughed. “Yeah, Naomi is busy, big guy.”
He looked back at Izzy.
“Don’t go too far.”
Izzy lifted her coffee. “I’ll try not to.”
Cal smiled once more, then turned and headed down the aisle.
Izzy took a sip of her coffee.
Grant looked at her.
She raised an eyebrow.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
She held his gaze a second longer.
Then—
“Your friend is very friendly.”
Something in Grant’s face went very still.
“He’s always been like that.”
“Confident?”
“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.