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“Let’s take a little walk outside,” I say.
We go out back, where I’ve got his surprise by the fence—a gorgeous gold champagne American quarter horse.
Linc’s gasp is audible. “He’s mine?”
“All yours, buddy,” I tell him. “Your dad got Copper when he was around your age, and I thought it’d be good for you to have your own horse to grow with you on the ranch.”
Linc blinks and swallows hard like he might cry. “Thank you,” he whispers. He moves toward the horse. “I’ve never seen one quite like him. He’s so cool looking!”
“He’s pretty rare, all right, and he’s got great cutting genes,” I tell him.
“Awesome!” Linc grins up at me. “I can’t believe he’s mine.”
He holds his hand up to the horse and gently pets him.
“Does he have a name yet?” he asks.
“I think you should name him,” I say.
His gaze snaps to his mom. “What about Dash?” he says. “Or Rocket?”
“I like those,” she says. “Maybe after you ride him, you’ll know for sure.”
He gulps and launches forward, reaching Iris first and then me.
“I can’t believe it!” he says, laughing and hugging us hard.
“Are you surprised?” Iris asks.
“Totally!” He puts his hand on his head, glancing around. “This is so exciting. Thank you.” He hugs us both again. “I think he’s a Rocket.”
I look over his head at Iris. She’s smiling and crying.
“Ignore me,” she says.
“Come here,” I tell her.
I wrap my arms around her, and we watch as Linc motions for Alex to come over to see Rocket.
“This is more than I could’ve ever wanted for him,” Iris says. “Thank you.”
She looks up at me and puts her hand on my face, leaning up to kiss me.
“I want to give you and that boy everything,” I tell her. “You know that, right?”
“I’m starting to,” she says, smiling. “I love you, Maverick Harrington.”
“I love you too, Iris Sullivan. Hey—how soon can we make you Iris Sullivan Harrington?”
She pats my chest. “Should we eat soon or wait? I forgot to take out the cake.”
“Maybe now . . . except Linc probably won’t want to for a while. Did you not hear what I said?” I ask, following her inside.
“Yes, I heard you,” she says, moving toward the refrigerator.
She motions for me to come forward, and I do, bending down to pick up the massive cake.
“And?” I press.
