Chapter 15
“Wow,” Sutton said, leaning against the front desk. “I’ve seen men use that voice on dates, but this might be the first time I’ve watched someone sweet-talk a spicy cat out from under a desk.”
“Trying to sweet-talk,” he corrected. “But she isn’t playing nice.”
“Funny,” Irma said. “Didn’t know there was a female this side of the Colorado River who wouldn’t come running when you start whispering sweet things about handling a temperamental pussy with patience and the right touch.”
Sutton had heard that whisper the other day at the barbecue when he’d been coaxing secrets out of her. The reminder that he used it on all females was a blow to her ego.
Speaking of blows: she was sitting on a secret that could level his entire world, and instead she was standing here keeping score on his flirting technique like it was a scouting report.
Priorities, Sutton. Get some.
“Not all women,” he said and Sutton tried her hardest not to blush. Because she knew he was trying his hardest not to make eye contact.
What a mess.
Trying to get closer to the wet and pathetic looking kitten, Colter got on all fours and crawled under the desk.
The position put his spectacular ass on display.
As he reached up, he exposed a thin sliver of lower back—his muscular and rock-hard back.
Not to mention his front, which in spite of his blue scrubs, showcased the outline of a chest that told her just how fit he was.
A man crawling on a linoleum floor to rescue a cat that clearly hated him. There should be a word for how unfairly that worked on her.
“You’re in good hands, baby. Just come to daddy.”
Hiss. Hiss.
The kitten roared like she was a lioness instead of a three-pound, soaking wet furball, claws out and eyes blazing with pure indignation.
“I got you,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, and Sutton wondered what it would be like to be gotten by a man like Colter Callahan.
“That a girl,” he said and crawled out from under the desk. Cradled against his chest, nuzzling his neck was a little tuxedo kitten, who was now purring contentedly.
“What’s her story?” he asked Irma.
“The person who dropped her off came with a litter of kittens she found in a taped-up box on the side of the road. She brought them here to get checked out.”
“Adding to the list,” he growled.
“What list?” Sutton asked.
“The one of the people I’m going to throttle when I find them.”
And there it was again. That protective tone of his that made her lady parts sigh. A woman could get used to that voice. A woman who wasn’t her.
A woman who wasn't currently lying to him about the small human who shared his eyes. That woman. Not this one.
“Is she going to keep the kittens?” Sutton asked.
“She said she can keep them for a few nights until we figure out a solution.
“I’m sure we can get them adopted out at the Paws for the Cause fundraiser,” Colter said.
Sutton had quickly learned that the Paws for the Cause fundraiser was nothing like the stuffy gala she’d expected.
It was a smalltown fundraiser that brought the community together with the singular focus of saving furry lives.
There wasn’t a person she’d mentioned it to who didn’t want to volunteer.
She’d also learned that she’d gotten in over her head. The planning of the event was massive. There were animal-focused vendors, who sold everything from custom collars to gourmet treats, with a portion of their proceeds going to fund the local animal shelter.
The part that needed the most attention and planning was the pet adoption drive.
They were going to have a couple hundred animals up for adoption and it was up to her to orchestrate the event.
Which meant coordinating with Bridlewood’s animal shelter, getting in touch with every foster home in the county, and finding all the crates, cages and pop-up play-pens as she could get her hands on.
“How is the fundraiser coming along?” Colter asked.
“It’s coming. I’ve already lined up a few vendors. And I talked to two food trucks who are willing to donate all their profits for the day.”
Colter lifted an impressed brow. “How did you pull that off?”
“A girl can’t reveal all her secrets,” Sutton said not wanting him to know she’d traded babysitting hours in exchange for the support.
A statement that, given the actual secret she was sitting on, felt like it should come with a lightning bolt attached. But he just grinned, oblivious, so she let it go.
“I’d like to sit down with you at some point to go over what you have planned and the schematic for how the fair will be set up,” he said.
“I’d like another week to flesh out the details and find more vendors, if that’s okay.”
“Dr. Porter might have a list of vendors from last year,” Irma said, referring to the previous owner of Full Barn Animal Clinic. “He’s worked with a lot of people in town and around the county.”
“I’ll call him when I finish examining Spicy here and her siblings,” Colter said.
Irma held up a finger. “Before you do that, you have six patients in the waiting room, and two offsite visits later this afternoon. Be sure to consider that before you go saving the day when you know that Dr. Lee can handle the kittens.”
“I’ll pass it off,” he said, but didn’t seem happy about it. “And the call will only take a few minutes.”
Irma clucked her tongue. “You and I both know that’s a lie. Porter will keep you on the phone for twenty minutes, minimum, and spend the entire time telling you how to better run the clinic.”
“Does he still own part of the clinic?” Sutton asked.
“No,” Irma said. “But if you asked the man he’d tell you differently.
Retirement isn’t what he expected and a man can only play so many rounds of golf and bocce ball before he starts losing his mind.
He spends every waking hour thinking about the clinic and how it can run more efficiently with him behind the wheel. ”
Sutton couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Colter.
That kind of second-guessing from a mentor had to sting.
It reminded her of the time she’d told her boyfriend about Lynlee and he’d told her that the baby would be better off with someone older, someone more “mature.” So she could empathize with the ache of having your judgment doubted, even when you were sure you were doing the right thing.
“I can reach out to Dr. Porter,” Sutton offered.
Irma laughed. “Honey, he’d bulldoze right over you.”
“Well, then I’ll just have to be as immovable as a boulder in a creek and hope he doesn’t notice he’s getting steamrolled until he’s as flat as a piece of paper. Plus, this is my job, let me earn it.”
“If you need backup, you just give me a holler,” Irma said.
“And if he steps over the line, you tell me,” Colter said.
Twice in one conversation. Her reproductive system needed a stern talking-to and possibly a restraining order.
“Do you want me to call Aiden at the shelter about the kittens?” Sutton asked. “See if they have room for the whole litter until they’re old enough to be spayed and neutered?”
Colter froze for a minute, giving her the strangest look. “Maybe I’ll just take them home.”
“You have a date,” Irma said and something in Sutton gave a strange pang. Something that was absolutely, positively, and in no way shape or form, jealousy.
Sure it wasn't. And she absolutely wasn't going to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering what his date was going to wear.
“It’s not really a date. It’s part of my deal with Vivi and my nan. One date with one of the women.” Colter looked at Sutton as if he had to explain it. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“Who’s the lucky lady?” she asked with a bright smile.
“Cheryl.”
“She’s lovely. You’ll have a great time,” she said and Irma’s eyes were bouncing back and forth between them.
Not wanting to further embarrass herself, Sutton said, “Well, I’d better go.
I want to call Dr. Porter and schedule a meeting to pick his brain about the fundraiser.
Then I’ll call Aiden to see if he wants me to drop off the kittens or pick them up. ”
Colter growled lowly in his throat, barely loud enough to be heard but Sutton heard it all the same. And by the amused look on Irma’s face so had she.
“Fine,” Colter finally said. “But if he steps over the line, you let me know.”
“I can handle myself.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he said over his shoulder as he headed toward the exam room.
Sutton didn't ask who he was worried about. She had a feeling the answer involved Aiden's kneecaps.
An hour later, Sutton set the carrier of kittens on the front counter and clipped all the paperwork neatly on top when a man walked in, all relaxed confidence and a charming grin, like he hadn’t come to collect a box of feral chaos.
“Hi, Aiden,” Sutton said.
He took one look at her and his expression brightened in a way that had nothing to do with the kittens.
“Hey, Sutton. You’re looking pretty today.”
Sutton waited for her stomach to flip flop over the compliment from such a handsome man. But not a single flutter. “Thank you.”
Which, fine, was information. Handsome, charming, employed, kind to kittens. On paper he was a walking green flag with a veterinarian degree. Her body had apparently decided green flags weren't the assignment.
“Are those for me?” he asked, nodding toward the carrier. “Because if I showed up just to see you and leave empty-handed, that’d be embarrassing.”
Sutton didn’t miss a beat. “They’re yours. Six strays, approximately five weeks old, eating on their own, and already plotting a coup.” She slid the clipboard toward him. “Intake forms are on top.”
Aiden laughed softly, signing without breaking eye contact, then handed the papers back and rested an elbow on the counter. He leaned in, in that flirty way that guys who knew they were hot shit did.
He was the kind of man people meant when they said conventionally handsome, as if he’d checked off all the universally agreed-upon boxes without trying.
Tall, broad-shouldered, clean-cut in a way that felt intentional rather than boring.
His dark hair was neatly trimmed and his easy smile came with the confidence of a man who knew exactly how well it worked.
Even standing there holding a carrier of hissing kittens, he looked put-together and dependable, the kind of guy parents trusted, donors adored, and volunteers inevitably crushed on.
“You make it sound so clinical,” he said with a wink. “Ruins the fantasy that you’re secretly running an underground kitten rescue.”
“I’m running a fundraiser,” she said, deadpan, even as one corner of her mouth threatened to lift. “Try to keep up.”
He popped the carrier open just long enough for a tiny black head to hiss bravely in his direction. Aiden’s smile turned tender, then immediately mischievous as he glanced back at Sutton. “Feisty. Guess they take after the vet tech.”
She ignored this. “They take after being hungry and unsocialized.”
“Sure are cute,” he said, closing the latch. “There seems to be a lot of cute going around.”
“Must be something in the water,” Sutton said, slapping the clipboard against her palm. “Or maybe it’s kitten season. Happens every year.”
Aiden grinned like she’d just lobbed him a softball. “Funny, I was thinking more along the lines of good company.”
She didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked from the carrier back to her face.
“Pretty sure the kittens are the draw,” she said. “They’ve got a whole fan club.”
“Hard to compete with that kind of charisma,” he said, shifting the carrier to one hip. “But I like a challenge.”
Sutton slid the intake form across the counter. “Sign here. Initial there. And if you’re flirting to get out of cat sitting a coven of mischievous kittens, it won’t work.”
He leaned in just enough to lower his voice. “What if I’m flirting because I enjoy it?”
She met his gaze, unimpressed but not unamused. “Then you’re flirting with the wrong woman during business hours.”
Aiden chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to come back when you’re off the clock.”
“Guess you’ll have to,” she said, taking the clipboard back.
His smile widened as he shifted the carrier to his hip. “If you change your mind and want to check on them, make sure I’m doing right by your babies, my number’s on the intake form. See you around, Sutton.”