Page 111 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

“I was watching through the peephole.”

“Perv,” Jo said. “I like it.”

Sutton sighed—the soft, reluctant kind that gave her away. “It was sweet. He was sweet and thoughtful and so present in the moment it switched on a light had been dark for a long time.” Her voice lowered. “It might’ve shifted things.”

Vivi made a triumphant noise. “It sure as hell shifted Colter. He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

“The man’s practically floating. His boots haven’t even touched dirt today,” Jo agreed.

“That’s impossible.”

Jo pointed. “Look at him.”

Colter was laughing—actual smiling, teeth-showing laughing—as Boone pretended to spray him with the hose. The man who usually carried responsibility like armor looked loose and easy now—open and animated, almost carefree.

His gaze swung her way and held—the kind of look that didn’t ask for anything but still felt like an invitation. Sutton’s chest tightened.

Vivi nudged her again. “He looks at you like you’re the first warm day after a bad winter.”

“He’s looking at a woman with a child and baggage.”

“He’s looking at a woman who scares the shit out of him. In the best way possible, of course,” Jo corrected.

“I don’t know where this goes.”

“Baby steps.” Vivi looped her arm through Sutton’s. “You don’t have to know. Just don’t slam the door because you’re afraid.”

Jo raised her plastic cup. “To doors left cracked. And men who look like trouble with good manners. And can I add delectable asses?”

Sutton clinked cups with them, a smile tugging her mouth.

Maybe cracked doors weren’t so dangerous after all.

Turns out, the quickest way to break a grown man wasn’t with a fist—it was with a kid in pink cowgirl boots calling him her favorite cowboy.

He was on Bojangles with Lynlee sitting in front of him on the saddle—a tiny, vibrating ball of unfiltered excitement—her helmet slightly crooked because she’d insisted she could “Do it herself like a big girl.”

“Dis is the bestest day of my whole life!” Her squeal could’ve cracked glass.

Colter grinned into the top of her helmet. “That so?”

“Yup!” She bounced in the saddle like a hot popcorn kernel. “Because ponies are magic and I’m five nows and I gets cupcakes and Mommy said I can stay up until nine and that’s when big kids gos to bed.”

“Really pushing adulthood,” he teased.

“Uh-huh.” She sat taller, proud of herself. “And you have five horses. Five! That’s more than four.”

“Sharp math.”

“I’m very good at education,” she said solemnly.

Colter huffed a laugh. The horse walked a lazy loop around the paddock while he kept one arm snug around her middle. Her small body pressed against his forearm— with a fearless trust that made him feel like the person she believed he was.

She wasn’t bracing for the worst or waiting for him to mess it up. She was just there, as if she’d decided he was safe and never bothered to question it again.

Lynlee whipped around in her saddle and gasped. “Guess what?”

“What?”