That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(40)

Because I was avoiding you . . . because I can’t get you out of my head.

Because I’m stupidly desperate to find out what your lips taste like on mine.

I turn to see Ren holding a platter of original Jake Cakes, a small order of waffle fries, and a giant soda—it makes me smile, knowing she took my advice on lunch, but that smile quickly fades when I see the mint-green sundress she’s wearing. The straps are thin and delicate, hanging over her shoulders, the V in the front showing off way more than I would have expected from an algebra teacher, and her skin looks like it’s been kissed by the sun over the last few days.

With her hair pulled back into a high ponytail, a light coat of mascara on those long eyelashes, and a gloss on her lips, she looks gorgeous, and with Rogan staring me down, watching my every move, I know he can tell just how affected I am in her presence.

“Uh, yeah, been busy with work.” I cough and turn away, catching the smirk on Rogan’s face right before Jake walks up to us, a tray in hand.

“Hey, boys, it’s about time you stopped by.” He sets down a plate of cakes in front of me along with waffle fries and a drink and then gives Rogan a salad.

A fucking salad. It’s his usual, which Jake only makes for a few choice people.

Jake grips the empty tray to his chest as he spots Ren beside me and holds out his hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Jake.”

Ren takes his hand, and I watch carefully as Jake’s eyes stay trained on Ren’s. That’s right, buddy—keep your focus on her face and nothing else.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I’m the new algebra teacher. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Still holding her hand, Jake smiles. “Oh yeah, Brig was telling me all about the hot algebra teacher.” Ren blushes immediately. “Didn’t Griffin come to your rescue?”

“Not something we need to talk about right now,” I cut in, not wanting Ren to live through that moment again. That’s old news by now.

Jake looks between the two of us, the young, fun-loving guy slowly curving his lips up. “Oh shit, are you two dating?”

“What?” My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline, and I scramble to stop any sort of gossip before it begins. “No, just friends. Neighbors. Acquaintances.”

From across the table, Rogan gives me a sarcastic thumbs-up.

“Oh, sorry about that, man.” Jake turns back to Ren, who has kept her eyes fixated on her plate in front of her. Shit, I hope I didn’t hurt her feelings. “If you’re not dating Griffin, maybe—”

“The restoration committee,” I shout before Jake can say what I think he was going to say. My outburst startles Ren; she jumps in her seat. I smile at her and then turn back to Jake, who has the same knowing smirk on his face as Rogan. I’ve known Jake for a long time; he’s really good friends with Brig, and he’s almost like a fourth brother to me. The ribbing I’ll get later is going to be bad, very bad. “Uh, I think we’re going to focus on your section this coming weekend. Make sure it’s ready for the upcoming Lobster Fest. Make sure you have paint.”

Jake slowly nods. “That’s not a problem. Anything else you need from me?”

I shake my head. “I think that’s about it. Thank you.”

“And I should expect you . . .”

“Five in the morning. Ruth is bringing the coffee; I’ll have the scones.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” Jake turns his attention back to Ren. “It was nice to meet you. If you need someone to show you around town, let me know.” With a wink, he takes off back to his truck, leaving me irritated.

“Goodness, you startled me.” Ren playfully swats my shoulder. “Why did you have to scream like that?”

“Did I scream? I think it was more like talking loudly. Wouldn’t you agree, Rogan?”

He pops a bite of lettuce in his mouth. “Sounded like screaming to me.”

Who the fuck’s side is he on?

I hastily change the subject. “How are the crab cakes? Good, right?”

Ren nods, mouth full. She chews and swallows before answering. “These are so freaking good. You were right the other night; these are perfect.”

“The other night?” Rogan gently pries.

Oblivious of Rogan’s needling intentions, Ren nods happily. “Uh-huh. Griffin brought over some of Oliver’s famous ice cream to my house, you know, the secret stuff only locals know about, and I asked him all about his favorite places to eat. It’s why I’m here. I wanted to see what the big deal was all about. Glad I came, because these crab cakes are the best I’ve ever had.”

My head is down, eyes focused on the food in front of me, but all I can feel is Rogan’s stare, his questioning gaze beckoning me to look up.

“You brought her ice cream? You know the rules about my properties, dude. No ice cream.”

“What? Really? Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Rogan, I mean Mr. Knightly. I didn’t mean—”

“He’s fucking with you, Ren,” I say before she has a panic attack. “And for the love of God, do not call him Mr. Knightly. We don’t need his head any bigger than it is.”

“I don’t know.” Rogan takes a sip of his water. “Mr. Knightly sounds really good on the ears, especially since I’m her landlord.”