Page 82 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

Boone: Right! Funny that *laughing emoji*

Colter: Funny what?

Boone: Nothing

Colter: What time?

Eli: That’s my man. Taking the bull by the balls and going for it

Boone: It starts at 8

Colter: I might show

Eli: Liar, you’re already picking out which color Henley to wear

Boone: Vivi says go with the green one. It matches your eyes

Colter: Fuckers

CHAPTER 31

Sutton had survived childbirth, cross-country moves, and a fainting goat in a necktie, but nothing had prepared her for sitting in the Tipsy Cow while Bridlewood enthusiastically auctioned off its single population like prize livestock.

Bridlewood’s Ultimate Catch Night worked on the simple belief that no one should ever be trusted to sell themselves. Instead, friends, siblings, coworkers, and the occasional overzealous parent took the stage, grabbed the mic, and pitched the single in question like a prized steer at the county fair.

They laid out the highlights—job, hobbies, emotional availability—while conveniently glossing over flaws or spinning them into “quirks.” The single had to sit front and center, usually mortified, as the crowd hooted, asked questions, and voted with applause.

If there was mutual interest, names were exchanged, drinks were bought, and Bridlewood had collectively decided that it had personally orchestrated another love story.

The stage was modest: a single wooden chair, a projector screen with a PowerPoint presentation glowing, and a single spotlight that wobbled whenever someone got overly enthusiastic.

Tonight, that someone was Kal, the single dad from Lynlee’s school, and his best friend, who apparently decided Kal needed a full-blown marketing campaign.

Sutton watched the spectacle unfold, while Jo and Vivi flanked her like mischievous guardians of commentary.

“Not only does he make a mean meatloaf,” Kal’s friend said, gesturing like a game-show host, “but he can assemble IKEA furniture without crying once! That’s a man who knows how to handle real-world crises.”

Jo snorted. “Wow, if Hamburger Helper and allen wrenches don’t scream ‘marriage material,’ I don’t know what does.”

Vivi elbowed her. “I’d swipe right just for the furniture thing. But only if his hammer is as multi-faceted as a Leatherman tool.”

Sutton giggled, leaning closer. “I think we just found Kal’s brand identity: Captain Competent.”

Then Kal’s mom got on stage, and everything escalated. Her enthusiasm radiated in full, unfiltered force.

“Ladies,” she began, hands on her hips. “I present to you Kal—the thoroughbred of our small town! Strong, dependable, loyal, and with a smile that will melt even the frostiest of hearts!”

Sutton nearly choked on her drink.

“A thoroughbred? Really?” Jo muttered under her breath.

Vivi whispered, “She’s not wrong. He does have that stallion-thing going for him.”

“If by stallion you mean slightly confused but adorable,” Sutton whispered back.

Jo took a long pull of her beer. “And apparently, if you squint, a mane.”

Sutton snorted, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. She waved them off.