Chapter 45
By late afternoon, Main Street looked like someone had detonated a pet store and a costume shop at the same time. Sutton stood in the middle of it and tried to breathe. Volunteers checked clipboards, kids chased terrified chickens, and a labradoodle in a feather boa refused to move.
Colter hauled hay bales off the back of his truck to form a divider for the pet-holding area while Sutton tied Paws for the Cause banners across them.
Lynlee hopped behind them with a staple gun she was definitely too young to operate, shouting, “I am being responsible,” while Colter reached over and turned the stapler to the safety setting.
“That is not responsible,” he told her, lips twitching.
Lynlee huffed. “I’m helping.”
“You are.” Sutton kissed her temple. “Carry the zip-ties instead.”
They fell into a rhythm so natural Sutton forgot to guard herself. He reached, she handed. She moved, he anticipated. When Sutton rolled a table toward the raffle booth, he wordlessly caught the other side and pivoted it through the crowd.
It was more than teamwork. More than chemistry. It was something that felt suspiciously like a family unit and, damn it, made Sutton’s very sensible, very logical reasons for keeping her distance feel like a pile of wet paper.
She bent to straighten a stack of registration forms just so she could breathe past the realization and the longing.
“You look like you are thinking too hard.”
Sutton turned to find Cheryl leaning against the edge of the booth, iced sweet-tea in hand, gaze pointed.
“Just making sure nothing collapses,” Sutton said.
“Nothing is collapsing. In fact, everything is running smoother than I expected.” Cheryl nodded toward Colter, who was lifting a kiddie pool full of tiny ducks under the shade of a tree while Lynlee supervised.
“Look at him,” Cheryl said.
Sutton tried not to and failed spectacularly.
He was smiling. One of those real, deep enough to crease his cheek smiles that was like a match to gasoline. He said something to Lynlee that made the little girl beam, then he reached down, ruffled her hair, and kept working.
Cheryl let out a satisfied sigh. “That man looks happy.”
“It’s a good day.”
“It’s more than a good day,” Cheryl said. “He finally stopped pretending there was nothing between you two.”
Heat shot up Sutton’s neck. “Cheryl.”
“What?” Cheryl raised her brows. “The entire county has been waiting for those Callahan brothers to settle down. Colter just needed to get his head out of his ass. I am thrilled he finally did something about you.”
Sutton made a big show about picking up her clipboard and studying the same form she’d already memorized because she could not handle staring at the truth.
Cheryl lowered her voice. “Good men don’t smile like that because of weather patterns. He smiles like that when he looks at you and that little girl. From one single mom to another, let yourself enjoy it.”
Sutton nodded, though enjoyment felt dangerous because for her, in the past, attachment was like a trapdoor.
But then Colter called across the street, “Hey, Freckles, I need your expert opinion on duck flotation devices,” and Lynlee yelled, “Mommy, come approve the ducks,” and Sutton felt her chest pull in two directions at once.
Sutton shifted her clipboard to her other hand. “I’m sorry you got dragged into our ridiculous game of cat and mouse.”
“Honey, I’ve been watching that chase since the day you came to town. I was not dragged, I brought popcorn.”
“Still, you deserved better than being stuck in the middle.”
Cheryl’s expression softened, lines around her eyes crinkling. “If it couldn’t be me, I am glad it is you.”
Sutton’s chest softened. “Cheryl.”
“No pity, no weirdness, just the truth.” Cheryl squeezed her arm. “You’re steady and nurturing, and you make him look like a man who finally stopped holding his breath.”
Sutton’s throat tightened around the emotion. She had no words.
Cheryl fixed her straw, then gave Sutton a knowing pat. “Now, go approve whatever ridiculous kiddie-pool situation he has going on before he lets ducks vote on something.”
Sutton managed a wobbly smile.
Cheryl walked off into the crowd without waiting for a response, leaving Sutton standing in the middle of the commotion, heart twisting as Colter and Lynlee called her name again like she already belonged to them.
She crossed the street toward the makeshift “duck habitat,” bracing for whatever mischief awaited. Colter and Lynlee stood beside a kiddie pool filled with cool water, three waddling fluffballs, and a tiny plastic slide he must have stolen from someone’s yard.
He looked absurdly proud of himself. “Safety rating, Miss Sutton?”
She inspected the water level, checked the shade coverage, and made sure the ducks had enough room to turn. It was ridiculous and unnecessary, and completely perfect.
She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Passed inspection.”
Lynlee pumped both fists in the air like a tiny Heisman recipient. She glanced across the street, spotted Parker, and with a shriek of pure joy, bolted away yelling, “Parker, I am here to supervise you,” which was Lynlee-speak for attacking with hugs.
That left Sutton and Colter in a sudden vacuum of privacy. He wasted no time. A warm hand slid to her lower back, urging her around the corner of Granny’s Grocer and Grain and out of sight of the main drag.
“Colter?” she asked. “Where are we going?”
He did not answer. Nope, that man dipped his head and kissed her. It was hungry and raw, and so damn certain she felt herself lean into him before Responsible Sutton caught up. His mouth tasted like early autumn days and lemonade.
When he finally pulled back, his voice was rough. “I have been thinking about this since the other morning in my bed.”
Her pulse tripped. “That was two days ago.”
“I am aware,” he said, brushing his thumb against her jaw. “Forty-eight hours, five hours of sleep, two shirts ruined by duck water, and not one second where I didn’t want to pull you somewhere private and finish what we started.”
Her back pressed against the warm, stucco wall and her voice came out breathier than intended. “What did we start, exactly?”
Colter didn’t shy away. His hand stayed right at her jaw, tilting her face up. “I’m hoping it’s a future. Not a fling or a mistake, but something real.”
Her heart punched hard against her ribs at the word future and the idea of one with him, waking up to that mouth, those dimples, and feeling she had around him of being exactly where she was supposed to be.
A world where Lynlee had a man who adored her and a home that didn’t feel borrowed.
Those were the things she’d dreamed of having but feared would be ripped away from her.
Hope rushed through her so fast it made her dizzy.
He watched her, clearly waiting for something close to panic or hesitation. Instead, Sutton felt her mouth curve, unable to stop the warmth that broke across her chest. Her heart leaped like she’d been waiting for permission her whole life.
She swallowed and forced words past the tightness in her throat. “A future is a big word, doctor.”
He looked like he had no intention of backing off. “Yeah, I realized I don’t do halfway. Not with you.”
“You barely know what my future looks like,” she said, searching his face. “My life is a kid, a job I’m praying I excel at, a degree I need to finish, which leaves no time for screwups.”
“I’m not here to screw anything up, Freckles. I’m here because I want in. I want the messy parts, the hard work, the responsibility that comes with you.”
Her pulse hammered. “That sounds like commitment.”
“I hope so.”
“And you’re not scared of a five-year-old who climbs walls and interrogates strangers?”
“I love that about her. She knows what she wants and doesn’t apologize. It reminds me of her mother.”
That line hit her square in the chest. For a second, she let herself imagine it: Colter at her kitchen counter, helping with homework, washing duck water out of his shirt, kissing her goodnight in a real home.
“It terrifies me,” Sutton whispered. “Wanting more.”
He brushed his thumb along her lower lip, that still tingled from his kiss. “Then we’re even. You scare the hell out of me, too.”
She huffed a soft laugh. “You’re not scared of anything.”
“I’m terrified of wanting something I can’t keep, but I still want you.”
Sutton stared up at him, everything inside her loosening and tightening at the same time. “What now?”
“Now,” he said, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. “Now we start with today. We finish this event, take Lynlee home, and later, when we get a quiet minute, you and I talk about what comes next.”
“You really want to open that conversation?”
“I want every conversation,” he said. “I want it all.”
For one suspended heartbeat, Sutton let the hope stand unhindered.
She let herself want it, want him, want the future he was brave enough to name.
But before that could happen, she’d have to be brave too.
The first real conversation they would have would not be about dates or plans or their definition of love.
It would be about Lynlee. About the truth of his connection with his daughter he never knew about.
Her fingers curled into his shirt and her forehead tipped toward his. “Okay, Colter,” she whispered. “Let’s try.”
She meant it as she said it, which was the terrifying part, because for the first time since she'd packed her suitcases and driven a little kid four states toward a man she didn't know, the math in her head went quiet.
Not silenced—it never fully silenced. But quiet enough that she could hear something underneath it—something she hadn't let herself listen to in a very long time.
Hope.
She thought about Lynlee with a staple gun and a look of pure authority. She thought about Colter turning the safety on without a word, like he'd been doing it for years. She thought about the three of them moving through the chaos of mornings like pieces that had always known where they fit.
Maybe we could actually have this.