That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(49)

“So what you’re telling me is that I made his night.”

“Oh, you probably made his week.”

I shake my head, chuckling as I take a sip of my beer. “He’s such a douche.”

“A romantic douche who wants to see you happy. We all see it, Griff, the way you lust after her.”

“I don’t lust after her,” I scoff, even though I’m pretty sure that’s a lie.

Leveling with me, she turns her back toward the party and forces me to look at her. “You know I love you, right?”

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like what you say next?”

“Because I know you won’t.” She presses her hand to my forearm, and her face grows serious, tears starting to well up in her eyes . . . and that’s when I drop the tough-guy act for a moment to truly listen to my sister. “I miss her too, Griff. She was my best friend.” I swallow hard as a tear slips past Jen’s eye. I quickly reach out and wipe it away. “We all miss Claire, but at some point you need to let go; you need to move on.”

“It’s not that simple,” I whisper. “There’s more to it.”

“You’re not freaking cursed, Griff. It was a weird coincidence, okay? There is no curse.”

“But what if there is?” I shoot back, gripping my beer bottle tightly. “I . . . I like her, Jen. Okay?” I drag my hand down my face. “What if something happens to her because of me? I would never forgive myself.”

“And what if you’re wrong and nothing ever happens between the two of you because you were too chickenshit to act on your feelings?” Squeezing my forearm, she softens her tone. “She likes you, Griff. She has no interest in anyone else in this town besides you. I think it’s time you put your past behind you and start living in the present, because if you don’t, you very well might miss out on something incredibly special.” Standing on her toes, she gives me a quick hug before walking off.

Fuck.

I have no idea what I want to do, my mind whirling with the possibility of making a move and the all-consuming fear of letting myself love again.

I make my way toward one of Brig’s favorite Mustang convertibles and try to catch my breath as I take in the pristine leather of the interior. Buttery soft and polished.

I desperately want to know what it’s like to hold Ren’s hand, to have her smile up at me right before I lean down for a kiss. I want to know what it’s like to take her out on an official date, what it’s like to text her before I go to bed or right when I wake up. I want to experience her body pressed against mine, her head resting on my shoulder as we stare out at the vast ocean during a beautiful Maine sunrise.

But what if something happens to her? If the curse is real? I would never forgive myself . . .

“Hey, I didn’t know you were going to be here.” I don’t even have to turn around to know it’s Ren. From the corner of my eye, I spot Jen talking to Jake, and I can only imagine what she must have said to drag him away from Ren. Meddler. Jen and my entire family: a bunch of meddlers.

With a deep breath, I turn to find a smiling Ren.

And goddamn . . . my breath catches in my throat as I take her in.

Wearing a strappy little black dress and high heels, she looks fucking stunning. Her hair is pulled to the side in curls, and her makeup is a little heavier than normal, but it doesn’t take away from the deep moss color of her eyes or the pout of her mesmerizing lips.

So fucking beautiful.

“Hey,” I’m finally able to choke out. “You look beautiful.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

A small blush creeps up her cheeks as she glances down. “Thank you. You look very nice yourself. It’s weird seeing you in anything but a Lobster Landing shirt and jeans.”

“Are you saying my clothing choices are predictable?” I laugh.

She holds up two fingers, pinching them close together. “Just a little.”

“All right, so when I show up at the shop tomorrow wearing a tux and my family thinks I’ve lost my mind, I’m going to blame you.”

“If you’re wearing a tux tomorrow to work, expect me to be there to take pictures and spread the news around town.”

I lift a brow at her. “Becoming a gossip now?”

“I’m all about fully immersing myself into the culture of the town.” She winks and takes a sip of her wine.

My pulse picks up, and that wave of butterflies takes flight in my stomach again. Resisting her charm strikes me as wholly impossible.

“What are you drinking tonight?” I place a hand in my pocket and try to act as casual as possible, even though my heart has been racing ever since she walked over here.

She holds up her wineglass and looks at it. “I think this is the cabernet. I really have no idea. I said to just give me whatever. I know nothing about wine.” She sniffs the glass. “But I do know you’re supposed to sniff it.”

“And how does it smell?”

She takes another sniff and shrugs. “Like booze?”

I toss my head back and laugh. “Let me guess: you’re not one of those people who take in the herbaceous flavors in wine?”

“Not even a little.” She steps a little closer and lowers her voice, as if we’re best friends about to share a secret. “To be honest, I consider a box of wine in my fridge fancy, so this little tasting is a whole new ball game for me.”