That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(19)

A smile stretches across his face as he holds out his hand. “Yup. Brig Knightly. I’m his brother. And you are?”

I take his hand in mine. “Ren Winters, the owner of the red tree-smashed car up there.”

He glances up at the car and then chuckles. “Ahh, so you’re the one my brother rescued from the pond.”

“The pond?”

“Yeah, heard he had to crack the window open so you didn’t drown. Not sure where the tree came in or if the pond was really a thing at all, because I didn’t see any water damage, but still, you’re the girl. PE teacher, right?”

“Algebra,” I correct him. “And there was no pond. Just trees, a ditch, and a moose.”

He nods knowingly. “Ah, classic. Happens to the best of us. I’ve seen many cars in this shop because of a wild moose.”

“Really? I was thinking I didn’t know any better because I’m new to town.”

“Well, that’s correct”—he chuckles—“but there have been locals who’ve lived here all their lives and still end up getting in some moose-related accident. It comes with the territory.”

“That makes me feel a little better.” I twist my hands together, feeling nervous. Don’t say anything stupid, Ren, like wanting to grow chest hair. “So is the damage bad?”

He turns to fully face me and looks both ways before leveling with me. “It isn’t good, but it’s fixable, and trust me when I say you’ll be treated fairly here. We can get the old girl up and running again, but it will take at least a few weeks. There’s been some real cosmetic damage, and then there’s the parts we need to replace, along with the new airbag. It’s going to be a bit. Plus, it’s behind a long line of cars that are waiting to be fixed.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” I sigh, plastering a smile on my face. “At least Port Snow has two Uber drivers to rely on. Do you happen to know if they drive into other towns that have either a Walmart or Target?”

“Bart will; Wallace won’t. He’s a stingy old bastard and tries to cut down Bart every chance he gets.”

I was a firsthand witness to that last night.

“Rogue told me you’re in Alabaster Haven, right?” I nod. “Which means you’re a few houses down from Griff. Just borrow his truck if you need to go anywhere; he rarely uses it. Likes to walk most of the time.”

“Oh no.” I shake my head. “I couldn’t bother him for his truck. That seems a little too aggressive for someone who just met him yesterday, and not in the best way either. Me getting rescued while freaking out doesn’t make us best friends who borrow trucks, you know?”

“Nah, he’s cool. Just ask. Until then, let me take your number so I can call you with any updates.” He walks me into the very clean and orderly garage, where he writes my number down on a clipboard with my car information on it. He then pulls out a card and hands it over to me. “Here’s my info if you need to get in touch, and hey, there’s a twenty percent off coupon to the Lobster Landing on the back. They have great fudge; check it out if you get a chance.”

These boys seem to really enjoy promoting their family business—it’s certainly endearing.

I think I’m just going to have to go there and see what all the fuss is about.

I flash him a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate your help and the discount.”

“Not a problem. Welcome to Port Snow, Ren.”



Holy hell, is it busy in here.

I stand still, taking in the cutest little gift shop I’ve ever seen. White shiplap covers the interior, with the exception of the exposed-brick wall behind the register, which is painted the same teal color as the trim outside. The gold, old-fashioned register itself is still in working order. Adorable.

The hardwood floors are a beautiful blond color, and the cases of fudge and pastry are spotless, the glass curved enough to give you a lovely view of all the goodies. There is a roped-off area where you can get in line for sweets, separating visitors with a hankering for fudge and pastries from the ones who want to buy something else, like a lobster-shaped oven mitt or a Port Snow T-shirt with the Lobster Landing logo on the front. Smart.

I glance toward the glass cases, and my mouth quickly waters, anticipating what I’ll bring home. One of those scones, for sure—my God, do they look amazing. I’m pretty sure this is where I’ll be spending half my teaching salary.

The line is a bit long, so I decide to venture around the store first, maybe check out the shirts. As of this morning, I am officially a resident of Port Snow. I should have a shirt to represent my new hometown.

I make my way toward the T-shirts, where I see one that immediately grabs my attention. A pale teal with Port Snow printed in a white font. Cute and simple with a V-neck and a feminine cut. I’m sifting through the sizes, searching for a medium, when I hear a familiar voice next to me. “Can I help you find something?”

I look up and spot Griffin, wearing a backward ball cap and a cocky kind of smile. “Hey, Griffin, I think—”

“I’m Reid, but I get that all the time.” That devilish smile appears again. “Despite the five years between us, we’re pretty much the same guy. The way you can tell the difference is he has wrinkles and I don’t.”