That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(31)

“Is Mom making stuffed shells?” Brig asks, standing as well.

“Pretty sure, but Dad is making the garlic bread. Promised me,” Reid answers, getting to his feet. “Mom burns it every single time with the broiler, but not this time. Dad is on it.” Brig and Reid give each other a high five. They, along with Rogan, murmur quick goodbyes in my direction before clasping Griffin on the shoulder and walking away.

Well, I guess our little impromptu breakfast is over before it even got started.

I glance up at Griffin as one bit of information sticks in my head. “You have dinner at your parents’ tonight?”

He nods just as his name is called for his order. “We try to get together at least once or twice a month for a family dinner. We had to cancel this past Sunday, so we’re doing it tonight.”

“Okay, that’s good to know because I was going to make that taco potpie tonight, but if you’re not going to be home to eat it, then I’ll hold off.”

“You really don’t have to make anything for me, Ren. Seriously. I don’t ever look for someone to pay me back.”

“I know, but I really want to, so stop denying my taco potpie.”

He chuckles and checks his watch. “Shit, I have to go open the shop. I’ll see you around.” With a quick wave, he grabs his coffee from the counter and heads out of the coffeehouse and down toward the harbor where the Lobster Landing rests, leaving me in his wake, wanting more.

I just saw him last night, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. I feel like we’ve only scratched the surface when it comes to conversation, and I might be crazy, but I swear he’s holding something back. Like when we talk, there is something behind those vivid blue eyes of his that he’s not telling me.

“Excuse me?”

I look up to find a nice-looking lady with a bag hanging on her shoulder, her hair tied up on the top of her head. She’s sporting a pair of leggings and a shirt that says, I write romance.

I wonder if this is Rylee.

“Yes?”

She takes the seat across from me and clutches her bag to her side. “You must be Ren, the new algebra teacher in town, right?”

“That’s me, and I’m going to guess you’re Rylee, the local romance novelist, just based off your shirt.”

She chuckles. “That obvious, huh?”

“Just a little.” I hold out my hand, and she takes it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too. My husband, Beck, is good friends with the Knightly brothers. They were just talking about the new girl.” A blush creeps over my cheeks as I wonder if Griffin was one of the guys in that conversation. “I heard all about your accident.”

“Which version of the story did you hear?” I deadpan.

“The correct version from Griffin.” A thrill runs through me. Griffin was talking about me. “Said you sandwiched yourself between two pine trees and couldn’t get out.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know how you held your cool. I would have freaked out.”

“Oh, believe me, I was anything but cool. I also cut my head.” I point to the small line of stitches still on my forehead. “I didn’t have anything to stop the blood, so I used my T-shirt. Griffin showed up to rescue a crazy lady in her bra screaming to get out of her car. Quite the scene.”

Giggling softly, Rylee appreciatively nods. “Oh, that’s fantastic, and I don’t mean that as an insult. I’m going to have to use a version of that story in one of my next books. You don’t mind, do you?”

I press my hand against my chest. “I would be honored, and feel free to call her Ren as well.”

“Maybe I will.” Rylee points to the corner across the coffee shop. “Well, I just wanted to come over and introduce myself. You can find me in that chair over there every Tuesday and Thursday, writing to my little heart’s content. And before someone goes and tells you the wrong thing, that chair is my inspiration chair. I do some of my best writing in it. But ask people around town, and they’ll tell you it’s my sex chair, even my husband.”

“Sex chair?” I cough into my coffee. “What does that mean?” And what the hell does she do in that chair . . . in public?

“They think I write all my sex scenes in that chair and only sex scenes, but they’re wrong. Do I get good ideas while in that chair? Of course, but it isn’t all about sex.” She winces. “Maybe not the best conversation to have with someone I just met. I just wanted you to know I’m over there every Tuesday and Thursday, so if you ever want company with your cup of coffee, feel free to say hi.”

“That would be so great. Thank you.”

We part with a smile, leaving me with a warm contentment. I’ve never made friends this quickly. It seems like everywhere I go in this town, people are taking the time to chat. I absolutely love it.

Standing from my chair, I give both Rylee and Ruth, who are now deep in conversation, a wave goodbye and head out to the general store for some grocery shopping.



“Hey, Mom.”

I set my phone on the kitchen counter, propping it up just right so my mom can see me, and go back to opening and unwrapping my dinnerware, silverware, and glassware. It’s been a task getting settled, but I’m not going to lie: unpacking new things has made it fun. This is the first time I’ve actually owned something that isn’t a hand-me-down, and it makes me feel like the grown-up that I am, like I’m finally starting a new season in my life.