Page 75 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

Vivi’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across her face. “Oh no. You’re about to blow my mind. Go on.”

“Instead, the potential adoptees—people, not dogs—sit in a room. The dogs wander in and get to pick their humans. No barriers. No lines. Just connection. Like, the dogs choose their own pack.”

Jo whooped, slamming a hand on the tabletop. “Hell, yes. That is so Sutton that it’s perfect.”

Vivi’s expression softened as she nodded, approval written all over her face. “Finally. Something bold, heart-driven, and impossible to forget. Sutton, this is your vision. Own it.”

Sutton felt a spark of excitement—of permission—to do something entirely her own. It felt good in a way she had almost forgotten, like stretching a muscle that had been clenched for years.

This was what she'd been building toward—not just surviving or just getting through the week, but this. A room full of people who believed in something she'd imagined up. She thought about the spreadsheet and the color-coded tabs and med school. And for the first time since she'd moved to Bridlewood, those columns felt less like a fantasy and more like a direction. Like the town was showing her, slowly and without making a big deal of it, that she could put down roots here. That she could build something real. That the plan—her plan, the one she'd made for herself before everything got complicated—might actually come true.

“You really think it could work?” she asked.

Jo waved a hand dismissively. “Work? It’ll be legendary. And you? You’ll finally stop letting everyone else tell you what’s possible.”

“Exactly,” Vivi said. “You’ve got the brains, the heart, and the stubborn streak for the logistics. Now just stop second-guessing yourself.”

Sutton smiled, a little nervous, a little thrilled. “Okay, a clothing boutique. A pet parade. Dogs choosing their humans. That’s what we’re doing.”

Jo raised her drink. “Then we’re doing it. No excuses.”

Vivi clinked her mug against Jo’s. “No excuses. Let’s make it impossible to forget.”

“Great. So what event are each of you heading up?” Sutton asked, leaning on the table with a grin.

Vivi and Jo looked at each other, the silent kind of communication perfected by women who had already decided they’d stepped in it.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re backing out now. If I’m going to follow my heart on this fundraiser,” she said. “Then that includes working with my friends.”

Vivi’s grin returned, brighter this time. “You’re right. I can’t let you have all the fun. Okay fine, I’ll organize the boutique.”

Jo rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. “And I’ll harass, uh, I mean, politely convince, local businesses to donate for the auction.”

Sutton laughed, a little relieved. “Pawesome. We have a plan.”

Jo rolled her eyes and Vivi burst out laughing before leaning in conspiratorially. “And don’t forget food, decorations, photo ops. You know people love that social media stuff.”

“Of course,” Sutton said, scribbling notes furiously. “Raffle items, volunteers, parade route, adoption rooms, all the logistics.”

Vivi clapped her hands together. “See? This is why I left the big city and moved here.”

“Let’s be honest. You moved here because the sex with Boone is life changing,” Jo said, then looked at Sutton. “Her words, not mine.”

“That too. But I love how the town works together,” Vivi said.

“Total domination of small-town fundraising,” Jo said.

Vivi laughed. “And for once, we’re actually going to enjoy it instead of stressing every step of the way.”

Sutton looked at her two friends, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the coffee in her glass.

“All right. Let’s make it happen,” she said, and suddenly the plan didn’t feel like just another task—it felt like their mission.

Jo raised her mug. “To Paws for the Cause, shit bags optional, success inevitable.”

Vivi clinked her cup against it. “I’ll drink to that. Now, let’s get to work before anyone notices we’re actually being responsible adults.”

“Speaking of responsible adults, what’s going on between you and Colter?” Vivi asked, approaching the topic as if she were being sly.