That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(29)

“And that’s why you’re part of the restoration committee, right? To preserve what your parents helped create.”

A small blush creeps over his cheeks as he runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I see their dedication, and I want to carry it on. Make sure this is a place people want to visit for decades. We’re constantly thinking of new ways to bring in more visitors, especially during the off-season. We want to keep the town alive year-round. It’s one of the reasons we have the huge lobster festival at the beginning of fall, to keep the visitors coming. The festival is three days of celebration, all things Port Snow, all things lobster. Kind of marks the end of summer, a culmination of all the hard work we put in over the summer months. We sponsor a huge booth where we sell out of fudge every day. Half of our proceeds actually go toward new supplies for the teachers at the school.”

I prop my chin on my hand, taking in his passionate, animated face. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as proud of where he lives. It’s so beyond endearing that it makes me want to feel the same kind of passion and claim Port Snow as my hometown.

I’ve only known Griffin for a few days, but with each passing moment, I realize how much more I really want to get to know him.

Before I can respond with another question, Tanya arrives at our table and sets a tray of food before us. It bears two rolls piled with lobster, homemade chips, and two sodas. My mouth waters immediately, and I remind myself to mind my manners and not shove the entire lobster roll down my throat.

“Enjoy, you two.” Tanya pauses, eyeing me for a brief moment before turning back to the tackle—uh, I mean lobster shop?

“Okay, do I just dive right in? Or is there a special way to eat this?” I pick up one of the sandwiches, admiring the bright-red-and-white lobster piled high, crowning the sliced and toasted New England roll. Drippings of butter slide down the lumps of lobster meat. This is going to be so good.

Griffin picks his up with one hand, knowing exactly how to handle the sandwich, and nods before taking a giant bite. He raises his eyebrows at me as he chews, his cheeks puffed and a sly look on his face.

God, he’s so adorable.

Mimicking his approach, I try to fit my mouth over the entire thing but fail miserably, so I take a much smaller bite, letting all the flavors mix perfectly together as I chew. Butter, lobster, and the roll it’s toppling over. Sheer perfection.

And the company sitting across from me couldn’t be any better either.

“This is so freaking good,” I finally say, wiping my mouth with a napkin.

He lifts a chip from the plate between us and plops it in his mouth. “Told you this place was good. Don’t let the exterior deceive you; there are so many hidden gems like this. Stick with me, and I’ll show you all you need to know.”

I plan on it.





CHAPTER NINE





REN


As I stroll into town the next morning, visions of the night before play through my head. After finishing dinner, we drove back to Port Snow, listening to the radio and talking about the kind of tunes we’d listened to growing up. I boasted about all the boy bands that had held my heart in their talented hands, and Griffin talked about all the classic rock he loved listening to, particularly Journey and Queen.

He refused to acknowledge my teenage musical tastes, shaking his head and laughing, while I gave him credit for enjoying the classics.

When we pulled up to my house, he helped me unload the truck and even helped me carry my bags into the cottage.

I thanked him again and sent him on his way, three houses down. From my window, I sneakily watched him take his new laundry basket into his house on the other side of the street and flip light switches on as he made his way around the first floor.

It was a little stalkerish, but you can’t blame a girl for being intrigued.

I made great time in unpacking things and setting up my house so that it was much more functional, and I finally began to feel like my little house was becoming a home.

I smile to myself at the thought as I walk to Snow Roast for some coffee and a breakfast sandwich.

The door to the shop rings, and I step inside. There is a little bit of a line, so I pull out my phone and check my email while I wait, just to make sure I’m not missing any important school meetings that might have popped up last minute. The door rings, and I can feel someone step up in line behind me.

Poor Ruth—it must be busy like this every morning.

“Good morning.” The voice, deep and warm, startles me; I turn around to find Reid dressed in jeans and a plain T-shirt, hair wet, face freshly shaved. Of all the brothers, he looks the most like Griffin. It’s almost freaky. The only real difference between them is that Griffin has a little more wisdom in his eyes.

“Good morning.” I put my phone back in my purse. “How are you, Reid?”

“Good.” He smiles as I catch him giving me a quick once-over. I’m wearing a red sundress today and flip-flops. My hair is straight and pinned behind my ear with a bobby pin. Casual but cute—just in case I happen to run into anyone important. Ahem, Griffin. “How was shopping last night?” He raises his eyebrows.

Griffin must have told him he was taking me up to Pottsmouth; that, or the gossip train struck again.

“It was good. I needed so many things; I felt bad Griffin had to wait for me.”