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And suddenly, it seemed extra weird to be sitting in a gay bar with this man. Sure, this was Vermont, but…c’mon.

“I don’t get it.” I played with the condensation on my water glass, interrupting Reg’s hot take on where to find the best wings in the state. “You’re a high-profile cop surrounded by boys kissing boys and this isn’t a problem for you?”

Reg reached for a chicken wing, his lips curled in amusement. “There’s no such thing as high-profile in the Four Forest area. We’re forest folk, tree people, lumber farmers. The only ones who get a second glance are the local sports heroes. In case you hadn’t heard, Elmwood has become a hockey mecca. They’ve got NHL and AHL superstars running the juniors’ camps, and better still…they’re at the diner, the coffee shop, and the rec center signing autographs, taking pics, or just hanging out. When Silas landed in Wood Hollow, it was the same thing all over for Wood Hollow. We’ve got quarterbacks, defensive linemen, and kickers on Main Street who spend a week or so playing on Dex’s flag football league. I mean…wow. Me? I’m just a guy with a badge. Like my father and grandfather before me.”

I studied his strong profile—his square jaw, the arch of his brows, and the fine lines at his eyes.

“Your dad was police chief too?”

Reg shook his head. “No, I’m the first chief of the bunch, but there’ve been cops in my family for generations. Supposedly, the La Rues migrated from Canada and settled in Wood Hollow three hundred years ago, give or take a decade or two. We’re one of the founding families and according to local lore, one of the bossiest. We’ve got judges, magistrates, and officers on almost every branch of the family tree. Including my dad. He was captain, which basically put him in charge of the Wood Hollow department.”

“And you run all four departments. He must be proud.”

“Something like that.” Reg scoffed as he wiped his fingers on a napkin. “Want another beer…or a soda?”

“Uh…no, thanks. I have a long drive ahead.”

“Right.” He smiled, something slow-moving and sexy that made my heart leap in my chest.

It was a disarming gesture that seamlessly glossed over the abrupt shift in his easygoing demeanor at the mention of his father.

We paid our bill and headed out. The summer evening air was still and humid. Our footsteps echoed on the pavement as we crossed the lot, our features distorted in the glow of neon signs.

The city was quieter on a Sunday night, but there were plenty of people out and about. A group of college kids smoking under a streetlamp, couples walking hand in hand, and a man jogging in place as he waited for the light to change.

I pointed my fob at my truck. “This is me. I guess I’ll see you back home.”

“I guess you will.” Reg glanced left and right. “Now, I just have to find my ride.”

“Where’d you park?”

“Three blocks away. I met my date at a Starbucks.”

“Of course you did.” I snorted. “Hop in. I’ll give you a lift.”

Reg hesitated as if weighing the pros and cons of accepting my offer. “Sure you don’t mind?”

“For fuck’s sake, Chief. Let’s go.”

He settled into the passenger seat and took over the entire vehicle with his size and presence and the hint of masculine cologne. I could have swooned. Yeah, I know…weird sentiment, but he oozed pheromones and I was highly susceptible. Like I said, it had been a long, long time.

Reg buckled his seat belt and instructed me to turn left. “And a right here.”

“This is a Hilton.” I leaned across the console and gestured to the high-rise.

“Yeah…there’s a Starbucks at the corner, thataway.” He hiked a thumb in the opposite direction. “Thanks for the⁠—”

“You’re staying at a hotel?” I intercepted. The detail was too out of place for me to drop. “In Burlington?”

Reg chuckled ruefully, his hand hovering on the door handle. “Do I really need to spell it out? Yes, Waylon, I drove two hours to have sex with a stranger. I can’t remember his name now, but he was hot and interested and best of all…on the same page. I’m too old to fuck behind a dumpster in the parking lot of a dive bar, so yes, I splurged on a hotel. I might even get room service in the morning.”

“Jason,” I supplied dazedly, my mind snagging on a vision of Wood Hollow’s finest with his pants around his knees, drilling the khaki-wearing preppy dude into oblivion in a dark alley. “His name was Jason.”

And yep, I was rock hard now.

He flashed another one of those lopsided knowing grins. “Right. Well, it seemed like a fine idea at the time. No regrets. They make a mean eggs benedict here.”

“Yum.”