Page 68 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

“Here’s what happens,” Sutton said. “You take the money. We take the puppies and the mama. She gets fixed and goes to a new home.”

“And I get?”

“One less mouth to feed.”

“And what if I want to keep her?”

Sutton met his gaze without flinching. “Then you’ll keep losing sleep wondering when she’s going to die on you. Wondering if the cops are going to show up because a concerned neighbor called in a tip from some asshole selling dogs to dogfighters.”

Harvey scoffed, but there was hesitation now. “What’s in it for me?”

“Cash today,” Sutton said. “And peace of mind tomorrow.”

Harvey looked down at the dog. She didn’t move or beg; she watched them all with weary, fathomless eyes.

Silence stretched as Harvey turned the cigarette between his lips. The puppies yipped behind them.

Finally, Harvey exhaled sharply. “Damn dog. Fine. Take her but I want cash. All of it.”

Colter nodded. “You’ll get it.”

As Colter counted the bills, Sutton knelt again, looping a leash gently around the mama dog’s neck.

“You’re okay,” she murmured. “We’ve got you.”

The dog stood slowly, shaky but willing, pressing her head briefly into Sutton’s leg.

Harvey watched, unreadable. “You better not bring her back.”

“We won’t,” Colter said but it sounded more like a threat.

They collected all the dogs, putting the puppies in an extra-large crate Colter had brought along. Colter carried it to the truck, while Sutton followed behind, carrying the mama—who was at least twenty pounds underweight.

They loaded the puppies behind Colter and Sutton set Mama on her lap, wrapping her in a thick blanket that Sutton found in the bed of the truck.

“That was amazing,” he said and Sutton glanced over at him.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “We made it work, but you handled the hard parts.”

“No,” he said firmly. “You were the hard part. You talked him down, made sure the mama dog was safe, got the puppies into the truck without a scratch. That’s not nothing.”

“Thanks,” she said, adrenaline pumping through her body and making her hands quiver. Or maybe that was the effect of a man who saw her strength, named it, and didn’t look away.

“I should be the one thanking you. You stayed calm when I was about ready to lose it. You’re steady and decisive. You kept me from yelling at Harvey or breaking his nose.”

"Years of motherhood will do that to you," she said. "Turns out negotiating with a toddler over broccoli is excellent training for negotiating with a man who sells puppies out of a collapsed doghouse. Someone had to keep us both from committing a felony."

“Someone,” he repeated, his gaze lingering. “And that someone was you.”

“I would die first, burn the place to the ground, chain myself to every kennel, bleed if I had to, before that man ever laid eyes on another dog I have the power to protect,” she said.

“I know that feeling. Lately, I’m experiencing it more and more.”

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.