Chapter 24
Colter noted that Sutton was impossibly calm.
Even after wrangling six squirming puppies and a mama dog who looked like she’d been through a war, she sat in the passenger seat like nothing fazed her.
That calm made Colter want to salute her and kiss her at the same time—and he hated that he felt both impulses at once.
He pulled into the clinic’s parking lot and let the truck idle. Neither of them spoke and neither of them moved.
Finally, Colter broke the silence. “I know we already talked about this, but I have to say it again. You did good today. You didn’t even hesitate.”
She shrugged, emotions tight in her throat. “Neither did you.”
He smiled, quiet and proud. “No. I didn’t.”
He could tell she expected him to let it go there, but instead he studied her like he was still taking her measure.
“You know most techs—hell, most vets—would’ve made an excuse,” he said. “Sudden phone call, bad feeling, or just flat-out ordered an Uber and vanish.”
That got a weak huff of a laugh out of her. “I thought about it.”
“Yeah?”
“I was scared shitless,” she admitted, the words tumbling out, an edge to them that told him she was still trying to find normal after witnessing evil. “My hands were shaking. I just didn’t want him thinking he’d won.”
“That’s the part that matters,” he said. “Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s doing the damn thing anyway.”
The truth landed heavy and undeniable. He’d seen plenty of bravado in his life, but what she’d shown back there was something rarer—quiet courage, the kind that was as strong as a tire iron but with a velvet touch, and it made him respect her in a way that went far deeper than attraction.
“And the way you shut him down?” he added. “You didn’t raise your voice. You didn’t posture. You just drew a line and made it clear he didn’t get to cross it. That takes guts.”
Sutton looked down, almost embarrassed. “Someone had to.”
“No. You chose to and I won’t forget it.”
Colter’s chest tightened as he looked at her, dust still clinging to her jeans, the tell-tale nerves humming under her skin. He gently tipped her chin with two fingers, until she met his gaze.
That was the part that mattered, he knew—the choice.
Fear was easy to spot; it showed up loud and fast. What impressed him was what came after, the decision to step forward anyway.
He’d seen plenty of people fold when it counted, and plenty who hid behind volume and bluster. Sutton had done neither.
Her eyes held his, steady now, and something settled in him. Respect—the kind that stood on its own without needing witnesses.
“Don’t downplay what you did. You saved that mama from a horrible life.”
Her gaze finally lifted to his, holding it. Her reaction caught him off guard.
“I won’t,” she whispered.
Colter leaned just a fraction closer, smelling the faint trace of vanilla in her hair, feeling the warmth radiating from her. Every instinct told him to reach for her, to pull her close, but the part of him shaped by responsibility and loss screamed at him to stop.
“You’re amazing,” he said quietly, letting the words hang between them. “I needed you today. Not just for the dogs but for me.”
She rested her arm on the center console, their elbows brushing, and the pull inside him intensified.
“Colter?” she whispered.
He knew what she was going to say, so he threaded his fingers through her hair, a few silky strands slipping between his fingers. “I don’t want to let this go.”
Her lashes dropped, hesitation flickering across her expression. His heart tripped. If he leaned in just a little…
But she opened the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, stepping out.
Colter stayed in the truck a moment longer, gripping the wheel, watching her climb out. Hair catching the light, her eyes laser focused on the ground.
His phone buzzed, but he ignored it. All he could focus on was her—the pull she had on him, the warmth, the calm, the impossibility of her.
He opened his door and climbed out of the truck.
Great plan, walking away. Truly a triumph of self-control. Lasted about four seconds.
“Wait.” The word came out low and rough, and it made Sutton pause mid-step. Colter moved before she could register what he meant, rounding the truck with that impossible calm that always made his heart beat faster.
In an instant, he had her pinned, his hands planted firmly on the truck doors on either side of her head, trapping her between his body and the truck door.
Sutton’s breath hitched under his gaze, and he felt a jolt run straight through him.
He waited for her to say something. For her to duck under his arm and walk away. But she stayed—right there pressed up against his body.
She cupped his jaw, running her thumb along his lower lip, and hell if that wasn’t all the green light he needed.
He leaned in, eyes dark and focused, and kissed her—slow at first, a careful brush of his mouth meant to ask permission before taking more. Her response was immediate and unmistakable—she rose to meet him, kissing him back with a soft certainty that said yes without a single word.
His mouth moved against hers with deliberate restraint, giving her time to pull away if she wanted, to decide if this was a line she wanted to cross. He held himself there, steady and patient, letting the moment breathe.
Her response was a quiet yes.
She shifted closer, fingers curling into the front of his shirt as if anchoring herself, lips softening beneath his. That was all it took.
The kiss deepened, still unhurried but surer now, his hand sliding to her jaw to hold her there as his mouth claimed more ground.
The world narrowed to warmth and closeness, to the simple certainty of her choosing him back, and the kiss followed that truth—gentle giving way to something fuller, richer, and impossible to misunderstand.
Then something snapped, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and angled his head so she could take it to the next level.
And, fucking hell, the next level nearly leveled him.
Firm lips. Hungry mouth. A connection fueled by enough fire to detonate a power plant.
She tugged at his lip with her teeth, biting until it stung. Then he upped the volume, testing, claiming, making his body melt into her. Every second pulled a growl from deep in his chest he hadn’t meant to release.
Then it was his turn.
He opened up the kiss, tasting her fully—sweet, spicy, everything he knew it would be and more. It was impossible, overwhelming, the kind of kiss that could tempt even the most disciplined man.
And fuck if he wasn’t tempted.
But he forced himself to pull back just slightly, tilting his forehead against hers. Heat roared through him, but he clenched his jaw.
“I’m going to be careful with you, Sutton. Come hell or high water, I swear it.”
The moment the words left his mouth, regret followed hard on their heels. Not because he didn’t mean them—he did—but because he saw exactly what they did to her.
Sutton went still in his arms, the easy warmth between them snapping taut, like a line pulled too tight.
With a shaky hand, she lifted two fingers to her lips, pressing them there as if she needed to ground herself, then took a step back. Out of his arms and out of the fragile space they had been standing in.
Colter stayed where he was, hands hovering uselessly at his sides, watching her retreat like someone waking from a dream they had not been ready to leave.
He understood then, with a dull ache settling low and steady inside him.
Careful promises sounded too much like stakes.
Like expectations. Like something she was not yet ready to carry.
And God help him, the last thing he wanted was to be another man who made her feel cornered by good intentions.
Her head shook violently. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“Why?” he whispered.
“There are too many whys.”