That lands harder than it should. My thumb traces the bandage, careful not to touch the cut, and though I shouldn’t say it out loud and certainly not in front of my brothers, the thought I’ve allowed to enter my mind a million times since I met Sutton slips right back in once again.
I’ll always take care of you…if you’ll let me.
18
SUTTON
Ishould know better by now. I really should, because this is becoming a pattern. I pull into the driveway, kill the engine, and sit there for a second, my hands still on the wheel, staring at the warm glow spilling from Shepherd’s kitchen window. And like clockwork the front door opens.
I don’t even pretend to be surprised anymore.
He leans against the frame like he’s been there the whole time, like he knew the exact moment I’d get home. Which, honestly? He probably did.
“Hey,” he calls out.
I sigh, already fighting a smile as I push open my door and step out into the cool evening air.
“Do you just…watch for my car now?” I ask, shutting the door behind me.
“Absolutely,” he says without hesitation.
“You’re not even going to deny it?”
He grins. “What would be the point?”
I shake my head, walking toward him, trying to bite back a smile. “You know some people call that a red flag.”
“Hmm.” He rubs his chin between his fingers. “Is there such a thing as an efficient flag?”
“Yeah. I think that’s worse,” I tell him.
He smiles and God, that smile. It should come with a damn warning label. I make it halfway up the walk before he pushes off the doorframe and steps down toward me.
“Good day?” he asks.
“Yeah. It was alright.”
“You eat yet?”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“There’s always a catch.”
“There’s not.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m cooking,” he says simply.
I pause because that wasn’t the answer I expected. “Okay.”
“And I’m making way too much food,” he adds, like that explains everything.
I huff a short laugh. “Of course you are.”
“So, you should come eat with me.”
