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Except joining a team felt like joining the town. And I couldn’t do that for real. The funny thing was that I was more tangled with the people here than ever.

Take Clark, for example.

We’d put the deck project on hold due to weather. I’d suggested moving locations to Reg’s house and making a simple piece of furniture—a coffee table to replace the one with the wobbly legs. We worked for a couple of hours on the weekends in his garage, where Clark sanded to his heart’s content.

In a twist, most of Wood Hollow assumed that Clark was our connection. Apparently, Reg’s dad talked about the mountain man he was working with often. I don’t think he ever mentioned my actual name, but they knew who he meant. Sometimes he said we were friends, other times boyfriends. No one thought much of it, most likely assuming the old man was a little mixed up.

No one asked direct questions. They were too polite to bring up Clark’s dementia, but it couldn’t be hidden any longer. And if I was on the inside, it made sense that I’d spend time with Reg’s family.

And Reg.

We usually reserved sleepovers for weeks where the kids were with their mom. If I spent the night, I was still vigilant about where I parked. Hey, people were nosy as fuck in this town. On that front, nothing had changed.

And yet, something was different.

Reg and I were hungrier than ever. We’d come together like a thunderstorm, bouncing off walls, tearing at clothing while we ravaged each other like greedy wolves. The rage of it all subsided with orgasm, but it didn’t fade.

I found myself staring at Reg at odd hours, noting his ever-changing expressions. His patience with his father, listening to stories he’d probably heard a thousand times. His soothing tone as he calmed his mother’s and sister’s fears, his unbridled laughter with trusted friends, like Cooper, Dex, and Troy. His serious cop face, the one that would have made my younger self think twice before fucking up.

Reg was all those things—patient, soothing, joyful, occasionally serious, and infinitely loving and supportive. I admired him as much as I wanted him.

Sometimes I thought it was the waiting. If Rhys and Gretch were with their dad, we were limited to family dinners, flag football, and DIY with his dad. On our own, we did other things. We hiked with Tate, ate dinner in other towns, and went Christmas shopping.

And we talked about…everything.

“I sneaked out of the house this morning, made it to my truck, and heard a ‘Yoo-hoo, Mr. Mountain Man?’ It was Mrs. Cabot over on the next street. Her cat, Trixie was in a tree, and would I please rescue her?” I huffed, measuring the leg of the coffee table.

Reg sat beside me on the floor in his living room petting Tate, his right leg resting on my thigh, his face illuminated by twinkling Christmas tree lights. “What did you do?”

“I rescued the cat. To be fair, Trixie practically jumped into my arms, but still…”

“You’re a hero.”

I rolled my eyes. “It was a day of heroics. Old man Fox waved me down to help him pull holiday boxes out of storage. And Janey had a shipment in the alley and was short a staff member. I guess Dex was going to help her, but the baby had been up all night and he was running late. I got a free maple bar out of it.”

“Sounds like a nice trade. You love maple.”

“I do. Maple donut with apple cider? Sign me the fuck up,” I enthused. “We’ll have to go sledding and treat ourselves to donuts and cider again.”

Reg smiled and motioned for me. “We will.”

I set the measuring tape and leveler on the table and scooted closer, leaning against the sofa. I laced our fingers and stared up at the tree I’d helped decorate. I hadn’t been part of holiday preparation of any kind in years. My parents had a fake tree they snapped together and let Emmett do his thing. I’d arrived later to compliment their efforts and watch Emmett tear paper from presents that Santa had left for him.

I had no real connection to the holidays. I just…showed up.

But the La Rues had specific traditions. They bought their tree in Fallbrook after a morning of sledding on Bonsai Hill. They piled their tree, fresh garland, and a wreath into Reg’s SUV, then stopped at Dex’s for donuts. At home, there was Christmas music, apple cider and hot chocolate, and a whole scene that involved schlepping boxes filled with holiday goodies into the living room.

And I was part of it.

Gretchen presided over the activities like an army sergeant. She had big opinions about where each bulb went and the perfect angle for the star tree topper. Reg let her have her way with the occasional reminder not to be too bossy. Even Rhys set his phone aside and got into the spirit of things. He’d been distracted with teenage drama. Things were rocky with Kelsey, who he now referred to as a friend, assuring everyone he was fine with that.

Reg worried and asked too many questions, which inevitably created a little father-son tension. I wisely stayed out of it. Rhys was fifteen now, and there were certain rites of passage that you had to endure alone—like getting your heart crushed for the first time.

I tried to stay clear if I knew Jess would be picking the kids up. So far, I’d been successful. We saw each other at games, but we hadn’t spoken since I’d bumped into her at Rise and Grind months ago.

I was in a weird state of being part of the action and easily removed at the same time. A lone wolf, available to give temporary comfort if needed.

It felt strange to wish I could offer Reg more.