Page 37 of Second Chance Faceoff

The silence stretched between us.

Tessa nudged my elbow. "Just ask yourself—are you dreaming bigger? Or just finding a fancy way to hide?"

"I'm just thinking through things logically. That's all."

Tessa didn't say anything. She didn't have to.

Her expression said it all. One eyebrow lifted, and her lips were pressed into that flat line she saved for when she knew I was full of it but was giving me space to admit it myself.

And the truth was, I wasn't even sure I believed myself either.

Chapter twelve

Colton: The Trap

The gravel crunched under my boots as I walked up to the barn, the air still carrying that damp, dewy, early morning chill.

I heard one of the latches squeak—had to be kennel three. That one always stuck a little. A few seconds later, I heard Brutus slurp from the water trough. Called it.

Shortly after, I heard the four dogs in the south run, losing their minds in unison. Janice must’ve just arrived. She was the only one who brought treats in her front pocket. The dogs knew it before she even stepped inside.

Tessa gave me a nod from across the paddock, surprised but trying not to show it.

I walked over. "Morning," I said.

She arched a brow. "You're early. Twice in one week. Should we be worried?"

I smirked. "Maybe I'm just trying to keep you on your toes."

"Or maybe you're getting attached," she said, but her voice was more amused than accusatory.

I didn’t answer that. Just nodded once and kept walking.

Inside, a few regular volunteers were already at work—prepping food, walking the dogs, checking supplies. One woman was trying to juggle a water bowl and a container of food while unlatching a kennel door with her elbow.

I stepped over and caught the latch before it slipped. "Got it. You good?"

She looked up, grateful. "Thanks. Some of these doors have a mind of their own."

"Tell me about it," I said, letting the door swing open gently.

I spotted Janice near the end of the aisle, kneeling by the south run. "I knew you were here," I said as I walked up. "The dogs basically held a press conference."

She grinned without looking up. "Don’t tell Riley. She already scolded me about the extra treats."

"Your secret’s safe with me."

She chuckled. "You’re not bad at this, you know."

"Don’t let that get out either," I said, then offered a quick wave to the rest of the group and turned toward the reading nook beside the kennels.

A kid—maybe eight or nine— caught my attention. He sat cross-legged, unmoving, with a book in his lap. The laminated sign above the little bench read: "Reading Builds Trust. Take a seat, read a story, make a friend."

But the boy wasn't reading.

His eyes were wide, glued to the far end of the barn where two bigger dogs were barking up a storm. His fingers clutched the book to his chest like it was a shield.

I crouched beside him. "Hey. You okay?"

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