Page 84 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

Then Rea’s voice boomed across the bar. “Next contestant! Come on up!”

Colter’s brow furrowed and he glanced around, confusion written plain across his face, as if she’d called someone entirely unknown. He stayed put.

“Darling!” Rea caught Colter's eye across the room and simply tilted her head toward the empty chair beside her. An invitation that wasn't really optional.

Colter had gone statue-still in a way that suggested his brain was running seventeen escape routes simultaneously and rejecting all of them. She'd seen him steady under pressure—surgeries, Harvey, a waiting room full of chaos—but nothing had prepared her for the look on his face right now.

Colter shook his head slowly, the universal motion for ‘like hell I will’.

Rea, clearly unimpressed with hesitation, didn’t wait for consent. She walked off the stage, across the crowded bar, and grabbed his arm like he was a wayward boy in trouble.

“Up you go!” she said, dragging him toward the stage with the force of absolute authority.

Colter’s knees bent awkwardly as he was steered into position and the crowd burst out in whistles and cheers, completely oblivious to his internal debate between compliance and mutiny.

She'd been in a room once where everyone waited to see if she'd do the right thing—and the right thing had cost her everything she'd planned for. Watching Colter get herded toward that stage, nowhere to go and everyone watching, she didn't find it funny anymore. She found it achingly familiar.

Rea stepped forward, arms sweeping grandly like she was announcing a royal heir instead of her grandson. “Ladies! Gents! Friends, neighbors, and anyone with a pulse!” she boomed, her manicured voice carrying over the down-home bar. “Allow me to introduce my grandson—Colter Callahan!”

Sutton’s gaze stayed glued to him as he straightened awkwardly, looking every bit the reluctant hero.

Rea didn’t give him a chance to protest. “Now, let me tell you why Colter is exactly the person you’ve all been secretly hoping to find. He’s the kind of man who will drop everything to rescue a stranded dog in a rainstorm without a second thought. He’ll build a makeshift shelter if the wind blows too hard, and he’ll sit with you through the night if you’re scared or sick. He doesn’t just care—he acts. And he’s been doing it for years, quietly, without ever seeking praise.”

Sutton’s chest tightened. Every word Rea said described the exact kind of man she had dreamed of: kind, steady, reliable, endlessly capable—but also gentle and fiercely protective. And it was terrifying because, unlike a dream, he was very real and very here.

“And that’s not all!” Rea continued, her eyes sparkling. “He’s loyal to a fault. A man who honors his commitments, values family above all else, and has a heart so big it could swallow this entire town. He’s funny, thoughtful, brilliant—and yes, ladies, devastatingly handsome, though I promise that’s not why you’ll fall for him.”

“And let me be clear,” Rea added, wagging a finger for emphasis. “He is someone who would love well, protect fiercely, and make you laugh even when your world feels upside down.”

Sutton’s fingers tightened harder around her napkin, and she had to remind herself to breathe. Everything Rea was saying, she could see in him already—the quiet attentiveness, the way he scanned the room even as he reluctantly stood on stage, the careful kindness in his eyes.

She felt a blush creeping up her neck. Her brain screamed stay calm, don’t flail, but her heart was doing cartwheels. She stole a glance at Jo, who was smiling with glee.

“Yep. That is exactly what I felt a second ago,” Jo said. “Sucks. Doesn’t it?”

“Sucks so hard,” Sutton agreed.

Rea’s voice cut through the hum of the crowded bar. “Now, ladies! Or a gent. Who here thinks they might be interested?”

CHAPTER 32

Sutton’s eyes widened as nearly every female hand in the room shot up. Including all the ladies from the barbecue last week. Cheryl, Sutton noticed, looked like she had stepped out of a magazine. Her outfit was perfectly coordinated without being flashy, posture confident but approachable, and the kind of age-appropriate, put-together vibe that made her Colter’s perfect match.

Jo nearly choked on her drink, elbowing Sutton sharply. “Do you see this? Every single hand! Every. Single. One!”

Vivi leaned over, a wicked grin on her face. “Not that you’re interested. But if that has changed you might want to put yourself out there before he gets snatched up.”

“More power to him,” Sutton said.

Lie number eight.

Sutton laughed softly, trying to mask the frantic flutter in her chest. The room was alive with energy, all eyes on Colter as Rea continued to hype him up, and Sutton realized just how ridiculous—and simultaneously terrifying—Bridlewood’s Ultimate Catch Night had become.

Rea's gaze slid to Sutton first. She had one brow lifted, just enough, in the particular way of a woman who already knew the answer and was giving someone the courtesy of pretending they had a choice.

We both know, the older woman’s look said. Go ahead and admit it.

Sutton's traitorous eyes cut to Colter before she could stop them. He was looking dead at her with something in his eyes she didn’t want to examine too deeply because it would force her to admit things she wasn’t ready to admit.