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“Sure.”

Roan ran his hands down Callie’s neck and peered at her saddle. His blood was pounding at the thought of what they’d planned. Excitement? Trepidation? He wasn’t sure. But he was going to do it—sneak out, meet with Walker again, and throw caution to the wind. Because there was something in him that couldn’t say no. Not to Walker’s earnest eyes and hopeful smile.

Remaining very aware of where Callie’s hooves were, he lifted a flap with shaking hands and found the buckles he’d seen Walker fiddle with before. It took a little strength but he managed to undo them, and he pulled the saddle with its little blankets over her back. The strap hit her side and she stomped her back hoof, but otherwise didn’t move. “Sorry,” Roan whispered. “I guess I did that wrong, huh?”

“She can be a bit of a diva in her stable,” Walker said, smiling at him. “Here, give me that. I’ll put it away.”

Roan hung on to the reins until Walker returned to take care of them. “Can she have another apple?”

“Sure. Bring one for Whiskey too or he’ll get jealous.”

“Okay.”

By the time Roan came back, the camera guys dogging his every step, Walker was closing Callie’s stable. He took one of the apples, bit into it himself, then fed it to Callie.

Roan grinned at the happy crunchy noises coming from the horse.

Walker turned around and regarded him intently. Then he took hold of Roan’s hand and rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. “You’re a good guy, little lion,” he whispered and let go.

“Goddammit, they still aren’t wired!” Molly’s voice sliced through the air, and she stomped in with an enraged expression on her face and body mics in her hands.

Their privacy was over for now.