“Check out this big boy,” the man said, stepping a much bolder, quicker, and taller horse out of the truck. “He’s a gelding, almost sixteen hands high and still growing. Not a kid’s horse, but then, that’s not what you’re looking for, from the sounds of things.”
“He’s gorgeous,” Bryson agreed. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth to hold back a smile and tried a more direct approach at flirting. “I like big.”
The man snorted a laugh and Bryson took that as a good sign. “Does anyone here have a name?”
Bryson got handed a second handful of leather and this time the man was much closer when he did it.
“Our girl here is Flight of Fantasy, officially, and Fancy on the day-to-day. The big boy is Cooper’s Kin, or if you’re feeling chummy, plain old Cooper.”
“And?” Bryson prompted.
The
