I swallow and glance forward in time to see Simon grinning at me in the rearview mirror before he refocuses on the road.

“I don’t think it’s a serious question. Just Leanne being Leanne.”

“Trying to make you jealous? Maybe she likes you?”

“I can guarantee not.” I fire off a reply, typing fast.

Working. On a job for the foreseeable. Contact me if urgent, but otherwise I need to keep the phone clear. PS—Can you check on Bella for me?

Three dots appear, disappear, then appear again.

Understood. Stay safe, asshole. I’ll go see the lady tomorrow and give her some love. They do look after her, though, you know? I swear to God, you can’t meet a woman because that filly already has your heart. Later. X

“Filly?” Carolina makes a soft hum in the back of her throat. “Is your friend British? That’s a very old school British way of describing a woman.”

I laugh at that, unable to stop myself as I pocket my phone.

“Bella is a horse. My horse. She’s fielded and stabled back home, but I like to know she’s getting checked in on. Keep the stables on their toes. My friend, Leanne, does that for me.”

“Where’s home?”

Her face is curious. Her mother asked me the same question, and I gave her my stock answer. About to open my mouth and give Leanne the Army brat line, which is true to a degree, instead I give her a more in-depth answer.

“I moved around a lot. Spent a lot of time in Texas. Then Colorado, followed by a few years in Germany. Followed by a time in So-Cal and eventually Montana, which is where I suppose I call home, but I go back to California a lot too and have a house there.”

She smiles at me, but it’s not the guarded one she gives in the few television clips I’ve seen, or the warm but limited one she gave her parents; no, this one is wide and seems much more genuine. “Ah, Montana. I’ve always wanted to visit. Looks so beautiful.”

“It is.” I agree.

She nods, and we lapse into silence. Five minutes later, the vehicle pulls up outside a house that I know cost over a million pounds. Of course, being the daughter of a Lord means she probably has family money, but she bought this with her own earnings from the speaking circuit, her books, articles, and the television work she does.

When we get out of the car, Carolina stretches, the evening sun hitting her hair and making it much more golden. Brutus stretches too and shakes himself.

Simon climbs out and throws me the keys.

“Later, alligator,” he says.

“Where are you going?” Carolina asks. “Aren’t you staying with us? I mean, me? I mean, here, at the house?” She flushes slightly as she fumbles what she’s trying to say.