That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(96)

“No,” I say too quickly, putting a big, fat label of guilty right on my chest.

“She’s here.”

My head whips to the side. “Really?”

Jen slowly nods, lips thin, eyes cast down. “Yup, saw her looking around. She’s wearing a purple sweater, jeans, and boots. She looks really good.”

Is Jen trying to torture me?

Knowing my meddling sister, I’m going to say yes. Yes, she is trying to torture me.

“That’s good.” My voice squeaks. “I’m glad she’s . . . you know . . .” I dig my hands in my pockets. “Doing well.”

A pregnant silence falls between us right before Jen says, “You know, you could still be together—”

“Drop it, Jen.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“And you’re being annoying. Leave it the fuck alone.”

She huffs. “Fine, but good luck when you see her, because I’m pretty sure you’re not going to be happy.”

Before I can ask her what she means by that, Jen takes off to help Mandy at the cash register.

Not happy? Hell, I’m already not happy; how could it get any worse? Shaking my head, I turn away from the cider pairing and scan the candle booth across the way, catching a streak of purple in the corner of my eye.

Because I’m desperate, I look in the direction it came from, and my heart jumps to my throat as I spot Ren, hands in her back pockets, head tilted back, laughing.

She seems so carefree, happy . . . fulfilled, as if we didn’t just break up.

From where I stand, I can hear the faint sound of her laugh. It’s soothing to my ears, makes me feel comforted.

Unabashedly, I study her, the fit of her jeans, the way they cling to her perfect ass, the way her sweater frames her curvy shape, and the soft brown waves of her hair cascading over her shoulders. She’s so goddamn beautiful, so full of life. It makes me think she was right—despite all the obstacles she’s had to overcome, she’s still living her life without fear, without a dark cloud hanging over her head.

She’s brave, unapologetic, and so damn inspiring.

I consider my situation, the spot that I’m in, the curse that seems to be brushing up against me every chance it gets. It consumes me, eats me alive; it’s destroying every moment that I could possibly cherish.

Fuck.

I drag my hand over my face, allowing myself a few more minutes to take her in. And that’s when I see it.

Or more like that’s when I see him.

Tracker from the fire department.

His body language says it all; he’s interested in Ren, and he’s turning on the charm as he makes her laugh over and over again. White-hot rage consumes me as my fists curl at my sides, my anger causing me to take a step forward.

That’s when I feel Jen’s hand against my chest, a warning tone in her whisper. “You can’t do anything about it. Focus on the booth; freak out later. You have a job to do. Get it done, and then worry about Ren after the festival is over.”

“But . . .”

“Dad’s watching. Handle. It. Later.”

Grinding my teeth together, I take a deep breath through my nose and then focus on the booth in front of me. Even if I were to go up to them right now, what the hell would I even say? You can’t date her because . . .

What? Because I’m a jealous, screwed-up fuck who can’t have her but also doesn’t want her to be with anyone else?

I can’t possibly say that, even though I desperately want to.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX





GRIFFIN


Knock, knock.

“What the hell did I say? Go away.”

“It’s your nephew. I just want to check on my favorite uncle.” A horrible imitation of a small boy’s voice rings through the door.

“Don’t use your nephew to get to me, Brig. That’s beneath you.”

Through the wooden door, Brig shouts, “You know, it would be nice of you to at least pretend it’s not me. I’ve been practicing that impression all morning.”

“It’s shit.” I sip on my beer, a fuzz falling over my alcohol-soaked brain.

“You know what? This is the last time I’m actually going to check on you.”

I take another sip of my beer. “Good.”

“And just so you know, I was a nice guy and brought you your mail. I’m going to set it on the mat. I hope it doesn’t blow away. I think that new credit card you’ve been waiting for came in.”

Shit. I have been waiting for that damn thing.

It’s my new business card for the Lobster Landing.

Yup, credit line of $20,000, and as the new guy in charge, I’m going to need it for ordering supplies.

A few days after the Lobster Fest, my dad took me out on his fishing dinghy and had a heart-to-heart with me. Told me he was disappointed in me, told me how much of a dumbass I am for believing in a hoax that I’m letting take over my life, and then proceeded to say despite all my idiocies, he couldn’t think of a better person to take over the Lobster Landing.

On one condition . . .

That by the end of the year I get my personal life together.

So looks like for at least the next few months I’ll be in charge, but maybe not any longer, because I don’t foresee myself moving on from this “self-sabotage” streak.