Page 87 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

Sutton blinked. “Honey, we haven’t even looked at⁠—”

“Dis one,” Lynlee repeated, already kneeling. “He’s an old soul. He knows stuff.”

The dog lifted his head, tail giving a single, tentative thump, and Sutton’s throat tightened. Of course she’d pick the oldest one. The one who wasn’t performing. The one who wasn’t trying to be chosen.

Behind them, a voice said, “You’ve got good taste.”

Sutton turned to find Aiden leaning against the counter, clipboard tucked under one arm, smile easy and unapologetic. He had that effortless confidence of someone who liked people and knew they liked him back.

“Hey, Sutton,” he said in greeting, then looked at Lynlee. “You just made Walter’s entire week.”

“Walter?” Lynlee echoed, delighted. “That’s a people name.”

“He’s very dignified,” Aiden said solemnly. “Eats slow. Judges quietly. Has strong opinions about naps.”

Walter’s tail thumped again, as if in agreement.

Sutton smiled despite herself. “We’re doing the adopt-a-dog-for-the-day program. Take him to the park, play fetch, maybe even have a dog-friendly treat.”

A box from Critter Couture had been waiting on her porch when Sutton got home, and she’d felt a ridiculous little thrill crack through her chest when she saw the logo on the side. Her friend had stuffed it with samples—bandanas, ridiculously soft leashes, sweaters and Hawaiian shirts—and Sutton couldn’t wait to try them on an actual, breathing, tail-wagging animal instead of an AI-generated dog.

Testing designs on a real dog felt like a small but important milestone, proof that this fundraiser she was planning was inching out of the idea phase and into something tangible.

She glanced at Walter, already curled up like he owned the place, and smiled.

Well, she thought, if you’re going to be my test subject, at least you have excellent taste.

“I’d also like to play a little dress up, do a photo shoot for Paws for the Cause and put it on the clinic’s socials. Help him get noticed,” Sutton said. “If he’s up for it.”

Aiden’s gaze softened when he looked back at the dog. “He’s always up for it. Doesn’t get picked much, but he perks right up when he leaves the building.” Then his eyes flicked back to Sutton, assessing in a way that felt curious, not invasive. “You a regular hero, or is this your first time?”

“First,” she said. “We’re easing in.”

“Smart.” He crouched down to Lynlee’s level. “You got experience with dogs, boss?”

Lynlee crossed her arms. “I had a goldfish once, but he was rude.”

“Walter’s very polite. You two will get along.” He held out his fist. “Knuckles?”

Lynlee bumped her fist against his, instantly sold.

Sutton caught the look Aiden sent her—warm, appreciative, a little flirty. Not aggressive, just interested.

“How is Mama Dog?” Sutton asked, because she’d been thinking about that sweet dog ever since they dropped her and her puppies off at the shelter.

“Mama Dog and her pups are being fostered by one of our top foster families.”

“She is?” Sutton asked, surprised at just how thick the emotion in her throat was.

“Yup. They should be old enough for adoption by the time of the fundraiser.”

“That’s wonderful,” Sutton said, placing a hand to her lips.

Walter seemed to second her opinion because he gave a happy bark. Aiden opened the cage door and Lynlee was immediately on her knees hugging the dog.

“So,” Aiden said. “Single mom?”

She stiffened a fraction, then relaxed when his tone stayed light, respectful.