“What?” I ask, bringing my attention back to the conversation while replacing an old daylily with a fresh one.

“If you want to try dating, we could hook you up with someone. I know all the single guys in town,” Rylee says. “I even made an Excel spreadsheet all about them for my single friends . . . who are just Victoria and Ruth at this point.”

“You’re single?” I ask Ruth, a little surprised.

“Yup.”

“She’s lusting after someone but won’t tell me who,” Rylee says with an eye roll.

“Maybe because keeping a secret between the two of us is almost impossible.” Ruth gives her a stern look.

“Whatever. Just tell us if you want us to hook you up with someone. I’m a great matchmaker.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Ruth cuts in. “She has yet to make one lasting match.”

Rylee pours dirt into the flower bed to fill in any holes. “It’s not my fault none of them see how genius my match was.”

Turning serious and lowering her voice, Ruth asks, “Do you have a thing for Griffin?”

“What?” I shout-whisper, looking over my shoulder to make sure none of the guys are paying attention. They’re all weeding, minding their own business, the waves crashing into the rocks hopefully drowning out Ruth’s question. “Why would you think that?”

“Probably because you both get this cheesy smile whenever you’re around each other.”

Do I get a cheesy smile on my face? God, I wouldn’t even know at this point; I can barely focus when he’s around.

“I think I just smile because it’s good to see someone I know. Does that make sense?”

“Wow, you’re a horrible liar.” Rylee really holds nothing back, does she? “Just be honest with us. Do you like him?”

Before I can answer, Griffin calls over to us. “Hey, I don’t see much work going on over there, ladies. We’re going to sit and rest when we’re done weeding and wait until you’re done to start the picnic tables. So unless you want to be out here forever, I suggest you stop gossiping.”

In my entire life, this is the first time I’ve ever been reprimanded for talking when I shouldn’t—now I know how my students feel when I catch them. I hastily finish up with the first flower bed and move on to the next, away from Ruth and Rylee and their probing questions.

“How different are the beaches here compared to California?” Brig asks, his head tilted to the side, the sun starting to crest past the ocean, casting an orange glow all around us.

After we finished the flower beds, I was paired with Brig to touch up the picnic tables with paint while Jake and Beck clean the food truck and Griffin and the girls tackle their own tables. It’s amazing how much we can accomplish in such a short amount of time. I’m really impressed with everyone’s hard work. It’s heartwarming.

I consider Brig’s question, realizing my life in LA already seems like it happened a long time ago. “Well, the beaches in California are warmer. They also are mainly sand with some beach grass sticking up. But here in Maine, the rocks, gosh—I’ve never seen erosion like this. The rocks are so old, but beautifully shaved down by the constant push and pull of the waves. In California, the beaches are just sand; at least, in Southern California they’re just sand.”

Thoughtfully, Brig takes in my answer. Griffin was so right—he might have a tough exterior, but he’s a huge softy on the inside and really chatty. “If you had to choose only one beach for the rest of your life, which would it be? What kind of beach do you see yourself sunbathing on, preferably in a little red one-piece? Do you have one of those?”

I dramatically roll my eyes. He’s also a giant flirt. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t have a red one-piece.” It’s a two-piece, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I apologize.”

“It’s okay; your politeness makes up for it.” Brig clears his throat. “I’ve always wanted to go to California. I really want to go to Napa Valley and get drunk off my ass from all the wine and then watch the sun set over the vineyards.”

I study Brig, holding my paintbrush still for a few beats. “I think you’re the first guy I’ve ever met who wants to get drunk in Napa Valley.”

“Oh, that’s not a common desire among men?”

What man talks like that? “Not any man I’ve come across.”

“Well, I’m a different breed.” He winks and then turns toward the others, watching their progress for a few seconds. “Have you been able to make some friends? Moving to a new town can’t be easy.”

“You know, I was nervous at first; moving to a new place is always nerve racking, but I think the moose darting in front of my car was a blessing in disguise.”

“It did a number on your car.”

I chuckle. “I know, but I have to look past that. If it wasn’t for the moose, then I would never have veered off into the ditch, and then I would never have become friends with Griffin. He’s been so nice, introducing me to everyone. It’s almost like because I’m friends with him, everyone is friends with me.”

“We do have that effect on people.” Brig smooths down his hair. He’s ridiculous. “If you’re in with a Knightly, you’re in with everyone.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup.” He makes a long stroke across the picnic table with his pink-coated paintbrush. I’m not sure if he’s even covering any marks up, but he’s been too chatty to notice the job he’s doing. “If you want to meet some more people, I’m hosting a cheese-and-wine tasting at the garage tomorrow night.”

I pause and peer at him, a furrow in my brow. I shouldn’t be surprised, but . . . “You have cheese-and-wine tasting at an auto shop?”

He chuckles. “I know it sounds weird, but hear me out. Behind the garage, we have a huge backyard where we hold events occasionally. I get together with the local cheese farmer and vineyard and put together a small event for the locals. I decorate the yard with some of my favorite Ford Mustangs, play music, and offer up samplings to those who come. It’s fancy as shit and fun. You should come.”

“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.