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Why had he given me his number?

Wait. That was an easy one. Reg was being nice ’cause he was a fucking nice guy. He’d been cool to Emmett and me, and probably hadn’t thought twice about inviting me out for a drink with his significant other who lived two hours outside of Wood Hollow. And just happened to be a man.

I sipped my beer thoughtfully—eyes fixed on a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label. Nope, I couldn’t resist another glimpse. A quick one over my shoulder. Just to be one thousand percent positive it was him.

Shit. Not fast enough.

Reg’s sharp gaze landed on mine. I saw recognition, disbelief, and then…he smiled. It was more predatory than friendly, but it was frank acknowledgment…which I appreciated. Now I had to pretend I was a nice guy, too. Get your ass up, say hello, and get the fuck out of here.

I pushed my glass aside and was about to slide off the stool just as a huge platter of wings arrived.

“Here’s a sample. I say go hot or go home, baby.” The bartender flashed a saucy grin before hurrying to serve another patron.

I frowned at the plate, feeling trapped and distracted in equal measure. That had to be why I hadn’t noticed I’d had company until Reg was next to me, nudging my elbow.

“Waylon Gibbons. Funny seeing you here,” he said, eyes straight ahead, finger lifted as if to casually summon the bartender.

“I was thinking the same thing. Chief.”

He looked at me then, expression guarded and searching. “You didn’t text.”

“Ah. Um, no. I took Emmett to the airport and decided to do some…”

“Exploring?” he suggested.

“Yeah, that works. I was just about to say hello to you and your…boyfriend?”

Reg snorted. “It’s a whirlwind relationship. We met twenty minutes ago.”

I widened my eyes, annoyed at the flutter of relief in my chest. What the hell was wrong with me? “Your exploration is going better than mine.”

“Yeah. Maybe. He’s nice enough…and smart. A little young, but I should be flattered.”

“What is he—thirty?” I twisted slightly, eyeing the handsome preppy-looking man scrolling his cell.

“Thirty-one. Engineer and a big soccer fan. I don’t remember his name, but⁠—”

“Ouch.”

“It’s been twenty minutes, remember? And I swiped right.” He snapped his fingers. “Jason. His name is Jason.”

“Ah, well…go get ’em, tiger.”

Reg didn’t budge. “What about you? Do I have to worry about you⁠—”

“Telling secrets?” I intercepted. “No way. Yes, I’m surprised. I had no idea you were gay, but⁠—”

“Bi. And that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh?” It came out as a squeak. Nice.

“No, I was going to ask if I should worry about you getting home safely.” He gestured at the nearly full glass of beer on the bar.

“I had one sip, Officer. Please don’t arrest me.”

“Very funny.” Reg checked his watch and yeah, I couldn’t help noticing his beefy forearms.

I’d seen him out of uniform plenty of times around town, but there was something extra sexy about bumping into Reg at a gay bar. I sort of wished he was in full gear—gun, badge, baton.