That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(60)

How convenient for Brig to forgo the camping gear and fail to mention the extra person.

I step away and scratch the back of my neck, taking in the three tents and six people. Christ, how am I supposed to say this?

“About that.” I wince. “Brig never told me you were coming, so I don’t have an extra tent for you.”

“Oh.” Her face falls.

Quickly, I add, “We have three two-person tents and six people . . .”

She studies me for a few seconds, then turns toward everyone else; they quickly avert their gazes and start unpacking the van. I see her silently assessing the tent arrangements, and when it finally dawns on her, her mouth forms an O shape as she turns back to me. “Um, what does that mean?”

“Well, Rylee and Beck will be sharing; I know they cherish these nights alone together, so that leaves me, Brig, and Reid, and to hell if you’re sharing with one of them. I, uh, could sleep in the cab of my truck and—”

She shakes her head. “I like camping, but I don’t like camping alone. There’s no way I’m staying in a tent by myself. Sorry.” She pats my chest. “You just earned yourself a roommate.”

And despite myself, that makes me extremely happy.



“She’s killing it, Griff. You’re going to have to thank Ren for feeding you tonight,” Reid calls out from a few feet away.

Ren sits back in her camping chair after catching another fish and starts to add another worm to her hook. Not going to lie: it’s a huge turn-on that not only does this girl know how to bait her own hook, but she has no qualms about pulling the fish off and putting them in the cooler. Not to mention she’s caught three fish to my zero. Whatever she’s doing to catch the fish, I like it.

Our dad used to take all five of us fishing here. Jen would complain the whole time, not wanting anything to do with it, while my brothers and I would chase each other around the lake with hooks. That stopped immediately once Reid took a hook to the palm. And when I was older, I’d take Claire here. She didn’t have much interest in it at all, and that was okay, because she would just sit and talk to me.

But Ren, she knows her way around a fishing pole and tackle box.

Rylee and Beck stayed back at the campground, and we all know why. They wanted some alone time, and they weren’t subtle about it, either, but it’s a good trade-off because Beck will be cooking dinner when we get back. Rylee isn’t allowed near the food—she’s notorious for burning anything she touches.

“Okay, spill it. How are you so good at fishing?”

Ren chuckles and casts her line. “Growing up, my dad used to take me fishing at least twice a month. It was our thing. We would go to different lakes around the area and even fish off some of the piers. He taught me everything he knows. It’s about the chase in the water, not necessarily about patience. You have to give a little to get a lot.” She calmly tugs on her pole and wheels the line in a bit.

“You look like a professional.”

“Pretty close to it.” She nods at my pole. “Did you ever do anything special with your dad?”

“Fishing.” I chuckle. “But clearly it was a hot mess because he would take all of us kids. We never really got around to catching much because we spent more time bickering over who got what bait.”

“I guess it pays to be an only child sometimes.” She reels in her line and casts it out again. “It’s beautiful out here; I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave. I can feel every muscle in my body relax.”

“Two days of dealing with my brothers’ constant bickering makes leaving easy, but when I come up here by myself, now, that’s a different story. There’s a little hike I like to go on when I’m here. The path isn’t too hard to find, but it leads up to a secluded pond surrounded by trees. The water is so clear. If you’re interested, I can take you up there tomorrow, check it out.”

“I’d like that, as long as you don’t take me up there and murder me or something.”

I let out a loud laugh. “Do you think I’m some sort of serial killer?”

“It’s always the nice guys, the ones you would never think are serial killers, who actually turn out to have tons of skeletons in their closets.”

“Well, there’s nothing to worry about where I’m concerned. No skeletons or psycho-killer tendencies.”

“Figured as much, but just testing you. Never can be too sure.”

I chuckle. “I can appreciate you wanting to be safe, but may I remind you, you already committed to sharing a tent with me, so what does that say about your way of thinking?”

She smiles. “Never said I was intelligent. I might be great with numbers, but the common sense is lacking.”

“Stick with me; I’ll teach you all about common sense.” And just like that, her pole bows, and she’s hooked another fish. In awe, I watch her expertly reel it in, a smile on her face and a laugh rolling off her tongue the entire time.



“All I can say is thank God I brought hot dogs, or else we’d be in some trouble.” Beck chuckles.

“Is that what happens when you get married—you start morphing into each other?” Reid asks right before taking a giant bite of his hot dog.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rylee says, offended.