Chapter 18
By the time the clinic slipped into its end-of-day quiet, Sutton’s nerves were humming like live wires.
Patches lay in recovery, chest rising and falling in shallow, careful breaths, a web of tubes and monitors doing the work his body wasn’t quite ready to do on its own.
She watched Colter at the window, arms folded, eyes laser focused on the patient, watching for any change. A twitch. A hitch. Anything.
“Vitals are steady,” Dr. Porter said behind him, already half out of his scrubs. “But he’s not out of the woods.”
“I know,” Colter said. The man hadn’t moved in twenty minutes.
“He’ll need someone to stay over,” Porter said as if this was his decision—his operating room.
“I know,” Colter repeated. “Dr. Lee is on call.”
Dr. Porter started, “If you want, I can—”
“I’ve got this,” Colter interrupted.
There was a pause, so long it began to carry a thick and irritated weight.
Colter finally looked at his mentor and an expression appeared on his face that was unfamiliar. It wasn’t the easy confidence he wore with clients or the quiet warmth he reserved for Lynlee. This was a kind of authority that didn’t need to raise its voice to be heard.
Dr. Porter studied him, clearly unused to being shut down. Sutton could almost feel the shift in power, like a pressure change before a storm broke.
“You’re sure?” Porter asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Another silence stretched. Sutton watched and then Dr. Porter’s shoulders sag just a fraction, the resistance easing.
“You always did hate being babysat,” Porter muttered.
“Learned from the best.”
That earned him a reluctant nod. Dr. Porter reached for his coat, already conceding ground. “Call me if his pressure drops or if you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
Porter paused at the door, his voice softer when he spoke again. “Then I’ll leave you to it.”
Colter didn’t say anything—just inclined his head, accepting the words without ceremony. Dr. Porter took that as his cue and left, the door clicking shut behind him.
The clinic exhaled and then Colter stepped back from the window. Something in Sutton shifted too, a quiet understanding settling in.
This wasn’t just a man good at his job. This was a man who’d learned how to stand his ground—and stay.
“I can call Dr. Lee,” Sutton offered.
Colter met her gaze, his expression bordering on exhaustion and adrenalin. “He’s not on call.”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said.”
A lie so casually delivered it barely registered as one—unless you happened to be the reigning, undefeated, three-time champion of casually delivered lies.
It was a double standard and she knew it—she was the undisputed queen of white lies—but she’d never known Colter to lie about anything that mattered.
Seeing him do it now unsettled her in a way she couldn’t quite name.
Sensing he needed a hand, she offered, “I can stay another hour, maybe two. But I can’t do overnight.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Call if anything shifts. Anything at all...”
Sutton watched Colter exhale and drag a hand down his face, the tension he’d been carrying all evening finally cracking through. Patches needed eyes on him, constant ones, and if something went wrong, Colter couldn’t be in two places at once.
She saw the calculation flicker across his face before he even said a word. The quick dismissal of one option and the refusal of another. She knew that there was no world where he’d ask Dr. Porter to stay. He’d sooner stitch with one hand tied behind his back.
That left her.
“I’ll be okay,” he assured her, but she didn’t feel assured in the slightest.
Fifteen minutes later, Sutton was at the front desk, wrapping up notes from the day so she could pick Lynlee up from daycare. Her hair pulled back, shoulders aching, frustration coursed through her veins.
Why did he have to be so stubborn? It was like he didn’t want her to see him at his most vulnerable. And after all the conversations they’d had, the secret coffee delivery, the time he’d spent with Lynlee, that pissed her off.
She slapped the final file closed and was reaching for her purse when she felt him—felt the weight of his attention. When she looked up, whatever was on his face told her this wasn’t small talk.
“You’re right, I need a second set of hands tonight,” he said. “Patches isn’t stable enough to leave him alone.”
Her heart skipped, just once, before settling into something warm and new.
“Okay, how long?” she asked.
“Through the night. At least.”
“I can stay a few hours. My neighbor, Ms. Tutty, can watch Lynlee. Problem is, she’s great for babysitting, but she can’t handle overnights.”
Sutton recognized the look on Colter's face before he even opened his mouth. The slight tightening at the corners of his lips. The way his shoulders squared, then seemed to think better of it. Like a man gearing up to walk barefoot across broken glass because there wasn't another way through.
It was the look of someone about to ask for something he hated needing—and hated even more that he needed it from her.
“Vivi can watch her,” he finally said.
"I appreciate that, I do." She hesitated, hating how the next words made her sound. "It's just—Vivi and I are still getting to know each other. I don't want to put her in that position."
“She’d love it. Plus, she’s great with kids and brings snacks like she’s preparing for the apocalypse. Lynlee would be worshipped.”
Sutton studied him, weighing trust against logistics, instinct against exhaustion.
She’d known Vivi for only a few weeks, and while every minute with her had felt easy and natural, easy and natural didn't mean trusted with my daughter overnight.
That was a different category entirely. One she didn't hand out lightly—or at all, if she was being honest.
Then again, she could sniff out untrustworthy people from a state away. It was a gift from her foster care days and that well-honed superpower was telling her that Vivi was good people.
In her heart, Sutton knew that. It was her head that was the problem. Besides her one friend in San Francisco and now Ms. Tutty, she’d never let anyone babysit Lynlee, so this would be a big deal.
“It’s okay to say no,” he said carefully, like he knew exactly how big an ask this was.
“It’s a lot,” she admitted.
“I know,” he replied, quieter now.
She glanced toward recovery, where Patches lay hooked to machines, then back at Colter. “It would be a first for both me and Lynlee.”
“I know and I hate asking but I need a second hand if things go sideways. I promised Ms. Miller I’d do whatever it took and I never go back on a promise.”
The words touched somewhere inconvenient.
Because confidence was one thing, but a man who didn't need attention to know his worth? That was downright terrifying. Plus, it showed just how strong his moral compass was, and that was a trait she needed in a man who might play a major role in her daughter’s world.
She knew when her heart committed. “How long?”
“Worst case, sunrise.”
“I’ll call Vivi. I’ll just need to grab Lynlee from daycare and get her overnight bag. I’ll be gone for only thirty minutes max.”
Relief moved through his face so fast she almost missed it, like he'd been waiting on her answer longer than he wanted to admit. “Thank you.”
She met his gaze, grounding herself in what mattered. “We don’t leave patients alone,” she said. “Two-legged or four.”
As she turned away, phone already at her ear, Sutton had the fleeting, thrilling thought that trusting him didn’t feel reckless at all. It felt inevitable.