Page 121 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

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.”