“He’s a dad and you’re a young man who likes his daughter. He knows it, and it smarts when a dad has to share his daughter’s affection. He has been her protector his whole life, and now she’ll start to look toward someone else to fill that role. Maybe even you.” He narrows his eyes at me. “How would you feel if it was you?” he asks. He pretends to be busy stacking chairs just like I am, but he’s astute and I know it.

“I’d be f**king ecstatic,” I say.

“Are you going to see her when you go back to the city?” he asks. I lift my pant leg and remind him of the ankle bracelet I’m wearing. He grins. “I have a feeling that’s not going to stop her.”

“I hope not.” I take a deep breath. “I like her, Phil,” I admit. “I might even be falling in love with her.”

He stops and looks me dead in the eyes. “That scares you?” he asks.

I laugh. “Quite the opposite actually,” I admit. I feel hopeful. And it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way.

“What’s your plan when you get back, Pete?” he asks.

I pull a piece of paper out of my pocket. He told me to write my plans down. To make them real. So, I did. I start to read. “One—work things out with Sam. Two—decide what my future will be. Will it be college? Will I get a job? Will I decide what I want to be when I grow up?” I close the paper and put it back in my pocket.

“Nice,” he says, nodding his head.

“Do you think I could do what you do?” I ask. “You get to help a lot of boys.”

He nods. “I think you’d be really good at what I do.”

“I might be able to keep some boys from ending up in my situation.”

He nods. “That’s a pretty good goal to have. I’d be happy to help you decide if you want that. You could even come to work with me for a few days and see if it interests you.” He looks around camp. “Most of my work isn’t quite this glamorous, unfortunately. It’s a lot of work at the prison and the youth detention center.”

I nod. I might like that.

“You know how to reach me when you get home.”

I do. And I will. I go back to stacking chairs until I see Reagan striding in my direction. She’s smiling, and her hair is loose and blowing around her face in the wind. She brushes it back with her hand and grins at me. “Hi, Pete,” she says. She shuffles her feet and looks down nervously. “Did I just see my dad come talk to you?” she asks. “With a hatchet?”

I squeeze my lips together and try not to grin, but she’s so pretty it’s hard not to. “Your dad scares the shit out of me,” I admit.

She giggles. “I think that’s how he wants it.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Did he talk to you about me?” she asks.

I nod. “He volunteered to gleefully chop off certain parts of my anatomy.”

She looks uncomfortable. “No, I mean did he talk to you about plans for New York City?”

I shake my head. “What plans?” I stop stacking chairs and turn to face her.

She threads her fingers together and looks everywhere but at me. She looks so uncomfortable that I immediately feel bad for her. I walk closer and tip her face up to mine.

“What plans?” I ask again.

She lays her palms on my chest and looks into my eyes. “Pete,” she starts. But she stops and shakes her head, then buries her face in my shirt and groans. “I feel so stupid,” she says against my chest. I can barely hear her. I pull her against me and hold her close, lacing my fingers behind her back. I lift the tail of her shirt and lay my hands against her skin. And she lets me. This part still amazes me and makes me melt every single time I get to touch her. Finally she looks up at me. “So you’re going back to the city today.”

I nod and squeeze my eyes closed. I don’t even want to think about leaving her. But I guess there’s no way around it. “Yeah,” I say on a sigh.

“So,” she says hesitantly, tipping her face up to look into mine. Her green eyes blink at me slowly. “I was thinking about going back to the city today, too.”

My heart leaps in my chest. I grab her shoulders and set her back a little so I can look at her. “Are you f**king serious?” I ask. I can barely breathe.

Her face falls. “You don’t want me to go,” she says quietly.

I laugh. I jerk her against me and then wrap my arms tightly around her and pick her up, spinning her around so quickly that she has to grab for my shoulders. “Of course I want you to go! Are you kidding? I’ve been so f**king worried that I would never get to see you again or if we didn’t see one another for a few weeks, that we would lose what we have.”

“What do we have, Pete?” she asks, but she’s smiling.

“You don’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’m not always good at reading people, Pete,” she admits, blushing.

I tweak her nose and steel myself. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Reagan,” I say. I swallow hard because there’s suddenly a lump on my throat. I don’t know where it came from, and no matter how hard I swallow, it won’t go away. I wait. She has to say something, right?

“Good,” she finally says.

Good? That’s it?

“Thanks for telling me.” She grins and spins to walk in the other direction.

I grab her arm and pull her back to me, and my heart swells because she doesn’t punch me and drop-kick me or knee me in the chin when I jerk her to me and back her up against a tree. “That’s all I get?” I ask. My heart is thudding like crazy. Maybe I misread her. Maybe I’m way off base. Maybe I’m an idiot.