Page 106 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

“You could’ve worn jeans. I mean, you can make an impression in flannel.”

His eyes warmed. “Thought maybe tonight needed something more convincing. And I want you to know that I didn’t dress up to seduce you. I did it so you’d know I’m here with intention.”

“That’s a lot of fabric for intention,” Sutton said. “So, this is strategy?”

“Absolutely,” he said without shame. “You’re calling it a one-night stand. I’m here to negotiate terms.”

“You can’t negotiate my life.”

“I’m not.” His voice dropped, velvet-rough. “I’m asking for a dinner you want but are too scared to admit.”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me on my porch.”

“Too late,” he teased. “I’m good at reading body language and yours keeps saying yes.”

“That is selective interpretation.”

“That is memory,” he countered, low enough that heat rolled through her. “Of exactly how you sounded when I⁠—”

“Stop.” She pointed the bouquet at him now because she needed distance. “There is a four-year-old inside my house.”

“Great,” he said. “She’ll be in excellent hands.”

Lynlee poked her head around Sutton’s hip. “Colter. Miss Vivi! Mr. Boone!” She bounced with every name. “Are we having a playdate?”

She looked up at Sutton with so much hope in her eyes there was no way Sutton could say no. Plus, Colter was right, they needed to talk about the other night and what was to come next.

“Playdate it is,” she said. “But no sugar after six. No renegotiating bedtime. And you have to finish practicing your lines.”

“Deal.” Lynlee pushed past her mom and opened the front door all the way. “Mr. Boone. I wants to show you my coloring book from school.”

Sutton looked him over again—flowers, suit, confidence and so much effort her heart rolled over and showed its soft underbelly. The universe had absolutely no respect for her self-control.

“Do you have a reservation?” she challenged.

“I have two,” he said. “One at a restaurant, and the other for the possibility you’ll bail and we instead have takeout on the couch.”

“That is disturbingly prepared.”

“I’m a man with priorities.”

“And what are those?” she asked, too aware of her pulse.

“You,” he said simply. “And earning another night with you.”

Her lady parts went warm. “You’re very sure of yourself.”

“Nope.” He gave a slow, devastating grin. “I’m just sure of us.”

Sutton exhaled—long, shaky, fatal. “Fine. One dinner.”

Colter’s grin spread like someone uncorked sunlight. “I’ll take it.”

Boone grinned like a Cheshire cat as Lynlee grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the kitchen. “Yay! Parent practice!”

Colter offered Sutton his arm—in a gentle, old-fashioned, stupidly charming way.

She hesitated, and he lifted a brow in challenge.