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We were quiet then.

And in a way, it was peaceful. But this seed of longing had me by the balls and the throat.

If I could…

I wished we’d met when we were younger. I wished I’d gone north on my bike all those years ago and stumbled upon this town…and this man. Before he’d married and had kids. But no. My punk-ass eighteen-year-old self hadn’t been interested in settling down. I’d wanted adventure.

Our paths were never meant to cross until now. This was the version of each other we were supposed to meet.

I wouldn’t have appreciated Reg’s strength and wisdom. I wouldn’t have known how incredibly lucky I was to have been invited into his life. To know his children, his parents, his friends. To know his mind and his body. To call him mine. Even for a little while.

I made love to him that night.

With our foreheads pressed together, I moved with intent. I wanted to savor every sigh and moan and make this last as long as possible. I wanted to communicate what I wasn’t brave enough to say aloud.

That I was crazy about him and that I wasn’t going to get over him anytime soon.

CHAPTER 32

WAYLON

Fluffy clouds dotted the blue skies that Saturday. After months of frigid temps, the thermostat peeked at a balmy sixty degrees. Maybe it was the weather or maybe Wood Hollow really just loved football ’cause seemingly the entire freaking town showed up for the official opening day of spring flag football.

I’d been here for the end of summer celebration, the autumn kickoff, and the holiday bowls, but only as an observer. I’d liked being on the sidelines—good food, a fun deejay, and the people-watching was always entertaining. I’d never aspired to be on a team. In fact, I’d been pretty opposed to the idea, but somehow…here I was in the middle of the field wearing a belt with Velcro flags attached in an honest-to-God huddle.

Okay, I had one flag left.

We were winning 21 to 14 with one minute left in the game. In other words, it was looking good for Wood Hollow…as long as I stayed out of the way. I’d practiced and played in a couple of scrimmages, but I was the weakest link by far. I’d boggled a pass that literally hit me in the hands and had two flags ripped away by a retired hockey jock in his fifties within the first ten minutes. Honestly, I was surprised the coach hadn’t pulled me out.

But no, Dex was as enthusiastic as ever.

“You’ve got this, Mountain Man! We need you out there! Go get ’em.”

They certainly didn’t need me, but I appreciated being included. And yeah, I loved having a cheering section of my own. Reg and the kids were screaming my name. Gretchen had even made a sign. “Go, Waylon! Go!” I waved and did a double take when I spotted Clark and Rose. Clark pointed at me and clapped. I grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.

Unfortunately, all that goodwill hadn’t resulted in an inspirational performance.

“Listen up.” Silas motioned for everyone to lean in. “We’re going with plan B. Elmwood’s defense is all over me. I want to try a fast pass to the end zone. Waylon, you’re my man. Beau, keep the path clear for him, and Viggo…you’ve got my back. Let’s do this!”

My teammates growled a cheer. Viggo thumped my shoulder, Beau elbowed me, and Lyle whooped in my face.

Wait up.

“Whoa! Hang on. You’re throwing the ball to me?” I pointed at my chest incredulously. “This is my first game, man. I’ve got butterfingers out there.”

Silas should have known better. The guy had played professional football for fifteen years. He was retired now, but he knew the game inside and out. It was almost comical that he’d want to play quarterback for a flag football team in the middle of the forest. Or maybe not. Wood Hollow was his home now. He’d married Cooper, helped raise his teenagers, and volunteered in his free time. Silas loved this town, he loved football, and he loved kicking Elmwood’s ass. Maybe I shouldn’t have doubted him, but uh…c’mon. Me?

Silas chuckled. “You got this. All you have to do is catch the ball, Waylon.”

“And don’t drop it,” Beau added with a wink.

I clandestinely flipped him off and got into position.

At Silas’s signal, I ran like the fucking wind, dodging grabby hands and spinning around obstacles with ease. I almost lost my last flag at the twenty-yard line, but I angled out of the way and turned, just as the football arced across the sky and landed in my arms. I sprinted the remaining few yards and boom! Touchdown!

My fans stormed the field and mayhem ensued. Elmwood wasn’t pleased. There was time on the clock and unsportsmanlike celebrations were supposed to be penalized. No one listened. They chanted my name till I was red in the face.

Reg elbowed his way to me. We grinned like a couple of idiots, and then…I was in his arms.