That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(63)

Like the supportive brother he is, Brig leans over and pats Reid on the shoulder. “See, now that’s a good idea.”

Reid smirks. “I was due for one.”

Happy, I stretch my hand out to Ren and squeeze her hand in mine. “Thank you,” I quietly say. “You don’t know how much you just helped me.”

The tips of her lips curve up into a beautiful smile. “I’m glad I could help.”

Cutting in, Reid says, “Now that we’ve figured the theme out, let’s get back to that whole mole thing . . .”



“How long do you think they’re going to keep bringing up the lettuce and the mole?” Ren asks as we sit in front of the fire, s’mores already consumed. Rylee and Beck are in their tent, and Brig and Reid are playing cards at the picnic table, giving the two of us some semiprivate time.

“Most likely they’re going to mention it every time they see you for the next couple of months, but hell, it was worth it.” I chuckle. “Fuck, the looks on their faces were priceless.”

“They’re too easy.”

“They are. Wait until I tell Rogan and Jen; they’re going to wish they were here now.”

“Why aren’t they?” Ren turns a little more in her camping chair, bringing one of her legs up to her chest, bending at the knee.

“Camping isn’t Rogan’s thing. He likes his creature comforts, and sleeping outside in a tent holds no appeal for him. As for Jen, she has three young kids, and if she’s going to spend time away from them, it’s not going to be in a canvas triangle out in the woods. She’s going to spend the money on a nice room at a fancy hotel in Bar Harbor or Ogunquit.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. I think I would probably be the same way, even though I love being outdoors, especially out here. The trees make it feel so private. When we would camp on the beach, it was wonderful falling asleep to the waves, but you always felt exposed, almost naked out in the open.”

“I could see that. The trees provide a sense of protection.”

“Exactly.”

Ren has to be one of the most down-to-earth women I’ve ever met—honest and true to her word. She said she likes camping, and she was right. She showed up prepared and ready for the outdoors, not a drop of makeup on her face or one of her usual dresses in sight.

And if she hadn’t been told she didn’t have to bring camping gear, I’m almost positive she would have brought everything necessary. Just from the conversations we’ve had so far, it’s obvious how much we genuinely have in common, and it’s obvious how my resolve keeps slacking where she’s concerned.

“Do you have a favorite camping story?” I ask. “Or maybe an embarrassing one?”

She chuckles. “Oh, I like how you threw that in there, or an embarrassing one. Let me guess which kind of story you would rather hear . . . hmm.” She taps her chin.

“Hey, if you tell me an embarrassing camping story, then I’ll tell you one of mine.”

“One of them? Meaning there are more than one?”

“I grew up with three brothers. Of course there are multiple embarrassing camping stories.”

She rubs her hands together. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’m ready to spill.” She points her finger at me, a slight tilt to her head. “But you promise you’ll tell yours right after mine? None of this ‘just kidding’ crap, right? A story for a story.”

“Promise.” I give her a curt nod.

Not satisfied with my answer, she holds out her pinkie to me. “Pinkie promise.”

“Are you twelve?”

“It’s the only way to ensure a story for a story. Only heathens break pinkie promises. Are you a heathen, Griffin?”

This girl, I swear.

“No.”

“Then you should have no problem doing a pinkie promise with me, right?”

I hold my pinkie out to her, a grin pulling at my lips. “No problem at all.” We shake, followed by a gleeful clap from Ren.

“Your story better be good, Griffin, because I’m about to deliver some embarrassing stuff. Top-notch blushing kind of tale.”

She’s so goddamn cute.

“I’ll deliver. Now lay it on me.”

She sits up in her camp chair, turns it to face me completely, and then crosses her legs, her little body folding together.

She’s so relaxed and happy; it makes me think that even though I’ve been out of the dating cycle for a while, I’m doing something right.

Not that we’re dating.

A cold chill runs through me, the thought of pursuing something with Ren exciting and scary as fuck.

I want her.

But I don’t want her to get hurt.

I want to know what it’s like to spend a night with her in my arms, and right about now, I don’t think there is any way I can stop myself from staying away.

“Are you ready?” she asks, her eyes fixed on mine.

“Ready.”

“Okay.” She clears her throat, and I get ready for what I can only assume is going to be one amazing story. “I was fourteen, an impressionable age for any girl. I was camping with my family up in Idyllwild, one of my favorite places, but this time, my parents decided to try out a new campsite because it was next to a pond.”