That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(48)

“How fancy?”

“Cocktail attire, but it’s free.”

“It’s free? I can drink wine and eat cheese for free?”

He nods. “Yup. If you want to buy something you tasted, you can. They bring bottles and cheese for purchase.”

“Sounds fun. What time tomorrow?”

“Seven. You’re going to come, right?”

I chuckle. “No pressure or anything.”

“There will be a lot of people our age there, so you can make some more friends. Probably a good thing, since you’ve only been hanging out with that old grump lately.”

“Who? Griffin? You think he’s an old grump?”

Brig lets out a guffaw, drawing everyone’s attention, even Griffin’s. His jaw seems to be set in stone as he peers at us. He doesn’t look happy. I hope he doesn’t think we’re goofing off over here, because I’ve been working. Unlike Brig, who’s just tossing the paintbrush around, hoping to get some coverage.

“Griffin is the definition of an old grump. Trust me. And come to the event tomorrow; you’ll have a great time.”

I don’t have to think about it all that much. I’m trying to get involved in every aspect of the community. A cheese-and-wine tasting behind an automobile shop, though odd, seems right up my alley.

“Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Attagirl!”





CHAPTER THIRTEEN





GRIFFIN


“Didn’t think you were going to show up.”

“Why do you say that?” I ask, adjusting the sleeves of my dress shirt.

“Because you’re always on time, and it’s seven twenty,” Brig, the time police, says. “I was thinking you forgot or were maybe a jealous motherfucker because I was talking to your girl yesterday and making her laugh.”

That didn’t go unnoticed.

Yesterday was a giant pain in my ass. After staying up late brainstorming ideas for the Lobster Fest booth, I made sure to get up early and power wash the patio before everyone got there. I knew Ren was coming, and despite wanting to keep my distance, I still fantasized about us working together. Brig fucked that up when he clung to Ren and teamed up with her when it came to painting. And the girls snagged her for the flower beds. I got to hear Ren’s laughter sifting through the early morning, but I wasn’t the one making her laugh.

And that grated on me.

“She’s not my girl,” I answer through clenched teeth, even though at times, I wish she were.

“Then why do I see steam is coming out of your ears?”

“Because you’re annoying me, like always,” I answer, letting out a long breath. Being the oldest brother has its challenges; dealing with Brig is one of them.

“Well, in case you were wondering, she’s here tonight.”

I feel a jolt of surprise, and my eyes scan over the decently sized crowd milling about on the patio and across the lawn, wineglasses and plates of cheese in hand.

“Ren is?” I ask, my eyes taking in every face but not finding her.

Chuckling, Brig claps me on the back. “Not your girl? Okay, I call bullshit, but last I saw she was talking with Jake.”

Fucking Jake.

I adjust my pants low on my hips and make sure my shirt is tucked in before making my way into the actual party.

The weather is pristine this evening, not too hot or humid, the perfect temperature to enjoy an evening out. There are lights strung about the yard, held aloft by poles bordering the yard. Potted plants and flower beds square off the space from the rest of the backyard, which stretches to a wooded area. Benches surround a gas firepit, and there are high-top tables scattered around the space. My brother might be an idiot most of the time, but he does know how to throw a good event—in the back of an auto shop.

“She’s to the left, next to the Boss 302 Tribute, in case you were wondering.”

“Go greet your other guests, jackass.” Ignoring his laugh, I head to the bar, where I grab a beer; wine really isn’t my thing. I casually take a sip, surveying the party. I scan the yard for the distinct red Mustang with black stripes running over the hood, one of Brig’s absolute favorites, and spot Jake’s back. He’s talking to someone I’m going to assume is Ren. But from where I’m standing, I can’t quite get a good look at her.

“Hey, Griff,” Jen says, walking up next to me. “You’re late.”

“Wanted to take a shower. I smelled like fudge.”

“You could smell like worse things.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Did you see Ren? She looks beautiful tonight.”

I’m not even going to be mad about Jen mentioning Ren; at this point, there’s nothing I can really do to stop my family’s constant interference.

“You know, Brig invited her tonight specifically for you. He told me all about it yesterday. Called me on his way home from the restoration committee, bragging about his plan to get you two together.”

I turn to Jen. “Are you serious?” From just past Jen’s shoulder I can see Brig smiling brightly at me, a knowing look in his eye. Jesus, he’s just as bad as my mom and Jen.

“Yup. And when you didn’t show up right away, he was upset, thought that maybe you weren’t going to come. It was sad, like a wounded puppy walking around his own party.”