Chapter 12 #2
A thousand calories later, Sutton decided that she might need something healthier than chips and dip, so she grabbed a melon skewer from a vase.
She’d just taken a bite when someone said, “How are the melons today?”
Sutton looked up at that someone and groaned. Colter was standing two feet from her while she was devouring a melon skewer, with an amused grin on his lips. It was funny how he could go from a small-town gent to a flirtatious fuckboy in under two seconds.
Ten minutes ago, he’d been laughing with Cheryl and now he was flirting with her. It was a harsh reminder of why her hormones weren’t calling the shots anymore.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
That earned her an amused smile that was a million watts bright and brought out those two double-barreled dimples. “It’s my house.”
“No, I mean why are you here, asking about my melons, when you have a harem waiting with bated breath for a second alone with you?”
“Maybe because I have a harem of women waiting for me with bated breath. But it’s nice to know that you’re keeping tabs on me.”
“I wasn’t keeping tabs and you’re annoying. Did you know that?”
“I’ve been told I was handsome, charming, even magnetic, but never annoying.”
“Then you’ve been talking to the wrong people.”
“Are you saying you’re the right people?”
Sutton had no doubt she was the right person, just not in the way he’d implied.
She could already see it, how her daughter would slide into his family like she’d always belonged there, how easily she’d be folded into Sunday dinners and loud conversations and a life built on showing up.
That kind of fit didn’t come from chemistry or charm but from choosing people who stayed.
“I’m saying you’re ridiculously annoying,” Sutton said.
“I saw you talking with Aiden. How did that go?”
If she wasn’t so sure he had zero interest in her, she’d think he was jealous.
“Great,” she said. Making that lie number four. “He’s sweet and nice.”
“Sounds like he’s a golden retriever.”
“What’s wrong with a golden retriever?”
“Next to the nice and sweet is boring and predictable. You don’t strike me as the predictable kind of woman.”
Rich, coming from the man on a self-imposed diet made entirely of avoiding her.
If she’d been into golden retrievers, her life would’ve been blissfully simple—walks, loyalty, and zero emotional surprises.
Instead, she’d developed a tragic fondness for charming, easygoing men with playboy energy and an allergy to commitment.
Clearly, her instincts deserved less trust and more supervision.
“Then you don’t know me very well.” Lie number five. Between coffeehouse run-ins and working alongside Colter, he knew more about her than most people.
“You’re right, I don’t. Why don’t we fix that.”
Her stomach dropped. She’d just dared him to do the one thing she was trying to avoid—turning the spotlight on herself in a way that begged for answers to his questions.
It was supposed to be the other way around, her gathering information while staying safely unreadable.
Instead, she’d handed him the opening and felt the balance shift.
“Let’s not.”
“What’s the one thing a man could do that would instantly make you lose interest?” he asked, ignoring the move-along vibe she was giving off.
“Men who ask about my cantaloupes.”
“No more melon talk. Got it. What’s your astrology sign?”
“Seriously, you get one question and that’s what you ask?”
“I didn’t know we’d established rules besides the melon talk,” he said.
“The longer you talk, the longer the list grows.”
"Careful. At this rate I won't be allowed to speak at your daughter's wedding."
There was a long pause that indicated a shift in subject matter.
“What scares you more, being alone or picking the wrong person?” he asked and Sutton almost walked away, but then she realized it was her turn to ask something back, to do what she had trained herself to do for Lynlee’s sake.
She had spent the last few years learning how to read men carefully, how to ask the right questions, how to decide whether someone was safe enough, steady enough, kind enough to earn a place in her daughter’s life.
This was not about her pride or ego or her past history with men.
It was about seeing who he really was, about finding out whether he and his family were as good as they seemed.
She had given up years of her own wants and dreams to get answers. Now, finally, it was her turn to ask.
“Alone isn’t the same as lonely. I’ve spent most of my life alone and I’ve learned that there’s strength in that. Picking the wrong person could cost you everything,” she said surprised at how easy that truth rolled off the tongue.
“Don’t you have family nearby?”
“That’s not how this game goes. It’s a one for one deal, which makes it my turn. What scares you more, being alone or picking the wrong person?”
He didn’t answer right away, instead took a slow pull from his beer, eyes drifting toward the yard like the answer might be hiding there.