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“Makes sense to me.” Nicole chuckled. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other.”

Gretch answered for us. “Waylon works for Coop, and we’re all friends.”

Waylon met my gaze and tilted his chin slightly, and mouthed, Friends?

I pursed my lips to hide a laugh.

Friends didn’t do the things I wanted to do to Waylon, but they could eat dinner together, sit next to each other at the game, make birdhouses, and not think twice about who saw them. And that sounded pretty damn nice.

CHAPTER 20

WAYLON

Ihadn’t been to a high school game in twenty years. In fact, I’d made a point of not going. In a world of jocks, nerds, and misfits, I fit solidly in the last category. I’d spent my formative teenage years in the company of anyone’s idea of bad influences who’d thought football was a waste of time and that the jerkwads who played were elitist dickheads.

School spirit? Give me a freaking break. I wasn’t about to cheer on those idiots when there was contraband beer at Dicey Jay’s house, the key to the liquor cabinet, and a bunch of pretty girls hanging on every other word I said. Hell, and I’d even had a girlfriend then.

So yeah, teenage me would have been mortified that I’d willingly shown up at a high school preparty and couldn’t wait to get to the game to meet up with my “friend.” But that kid was kind of a dumb shit ’cause this was fun.

Lyle and his wife, Lindsay’s small bungalow was overflowing with friends, family, and Wood Hollow football fans. A huge Hornets banner hung above the porch, low enough that you had to duck before entering the simply yet nicely furnished house.

Lyle greeted me with a hearty high five and immediately thrust a beer in my hand. He tipped his chin in what was probably meant to be a neutral acknowledgment, but his monster grin ruined the vibe. “C’mon. I’ll introduce you around, and you gotta meet Linds, too.”

I fist-bumped, high-fived, and tapped beer bottles with familiar faces and let myself be dragged into the kitchen, where Lindsay was sliding an obscene amount of deviled eggs onto a platter.

She was a petite blond who finished every sentence with an exclamation point. “You came! I’m so glad! I’m just putting some appetizers out! Help yourself!”

I took a deviled egg and squeezed through the throng of six-foot-plus loggers and their spouses and significant others.

Multiple conversations blasted from every corner of the house and spilled through the sliding glass door leading to a surprisingly large backyard where three grills were loaded with hot dogs, sausages, and hamburger patties. Four coolers stocked with beers, sodas, and water bottles had been strategically placed next to trash cans labeled with handwritten signs:

Don’t Be Animals!

Throw Your Trash Away!

Recycle!

Lyle gestured to Beau, who was manning one of the grills. I headed his way, but was stopped by a pretty girl who looked vaguely familiar.

“Hey, I know you,” she said with a flirty smile. “I’m Shawna.”

“We’ve met, huh?”

Her hand was on my elbow now. “I work for Chief La Rue at the station. I had the dubious honor of tattling on your nephew. Emmett, right?”

“Yeah.” I winced, rubbing my beard. “Not one of his finer moments.”

“Are you kidding? That was a hoot.” She swayed into me. “Chief had a hard time not busting up laughing. We all did.”

I put a little room between us and sipped my beer. “How long have you known Chief La Rue?”

“Since always. His sister, Layla, is my best friend. I had a fierce crush on him when I was a kid. Reg was a star football player. The whole team used to hang out at their house. And now I work for him. Life is strange. Are you hungry? The spicy kielbasas are great.”

“Thanks, but I just ate.”

“Okay. Catcha later.”

Beau sidled over as Shawna waltz away. Then he turned to me with a furrowed brow. “Are you nuts? She’s hot. Get a fuckin’ wiener with her.”