“MURPHY!” I SCREAM MY dog’s name for the millionth time. I’m sure I look like a crazy person, run-walking up and down the street crying and peering between bushes and jumping as high as I can to try and see over fences, all the while shaking a bag of his favorite bacon-flavored treats, but I’m desperate. “Murphy!”

This morning we did our normal thing. I got up and let him outside and went to freshen up. But when I came back, I opened the slider to the back and called for him … and nothing. I stepped out on the patio and scanned the backyard, thinking he was hiding behind a tree or something … and then I saw the depression in the grass, leaving just enough room for his pudgy butt to squeeze under the fence.

Drying my tears on the backs of my hands, I decide to start canvassing. I start at the white house on the corner, tromping up the front steps, clearing my throat, and ringing the doorbell.

No answer.

Of course.

People are generally at work this time of morning.

I’m on house number four with no luck when I see Sutter’s truck barreling down the street. He stops, not in front of our place, but in front of the house next door. I watch as he heads up the front walk and knocks on the door. A second later, a white-haired woman lets him in.

And I wait.

My heart thumps so hard in my throat, I feel like it could choke me at any minute, and my cheeks are flushed, hot red. Making my way back toward the house, I keep my focus trained on the neighbor lady’s blue front door.

Time stops somehow.

The world around me doesn’t exist.

Nothing matters. Nothing except finding my dog.

But then the blue door swings open and from where I’m standing, I can only see the back of Sutter’s t-shirt, though it appears as if he’s holding something in his arms.

He turns a second later and I could kiss him.

I could kiss him so hard.

“Oh my god,” I say as I sprint toward the superhero holding my dog. “How did you know where he was?”

Sutter hands Murphy to me, who seems as chipper as always.

“Mrs. Cooper has a fenced-in yard. I figured if he got out of our backyard and into hers, he might still be there,” he says. There’s no pride in his voice, no look in his eyes like he’s waiting for accolades and praise. “She didn’t even know he was back there until I asked her to check.”

I kiss the top of Murphy’s head. While panic has left the building, adrenaline is still hanging around. My heart races, my breath still hasn’t caught itself yet, and I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t squeezing Murphy for dear life, my hands would still be trembling.

“Thank you so, so much,” I say. I step toward him, fully aware of how awkward I’m being, and I place one arm around his shoulder, giving him a half-hug.

I doubt he has any idea what this means to me … that he dropped everything the minute I texted him and ran back home to help me find my dog.

He didn’t have to do it, but he did.

Sutter gives me a half-smile in return. “I know how much he means to you. Glad we were able to find him.”

“We?” I lift a brow. “It was all you.”

He backs away, giving me a small wave before climbing into his truck. I stand on the sidewalk, Murphy under my arm, and watch my knight in shining armor disappear over the horizon.

Now I can’t help but wonder if he meant what he said the other night. I don’t know anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to come help me find my dog. Not Aerin. Not Maritza. Not my parents.

But he did.

Sutter did.