I still feel a little rocked after Ren’s confession. When I saw her upset, on the verge of tears, my initial reaction was to fix it, to take away that sad look on her face, to make everything better, because that expression of utter defeat in her eyes—hell, I don’t ever want to see it.

And the realization that I’d do anything to take away her pain was something I wasn’t ready for. I wanted to scoop her up into my arms and make her smile, hear her laugh, wash away all the sadness from her life. That scared the shit out of me; the last time I felt that was with Claire.

And then she brought up Claire. Seeing the sadness in her eyes over my loss—fuck, it was too much.

Ever since she’s moved here, Ren has wiggled her way into my life one conversation at a time, to the point that I get so goddamn excited whenever she’s around, my heart taking flight, my hands itching to touch her, to press her body up against mine, to finally find out what it’s like to feel her lips glide across mine.

It’s why I stopped by her house the other night before my shift at the firehouse. I had to see her, to make sure she was okay. I couldn’t stand the thought of having left her the way I did.

It took all my willpower to walk away that night, to turn around and make my way to the firehouse, because when she opened her door, all I wanted to do was back her up into the wall of her entryway and bury my head in the crook of her neck, to work out my feelings for her and just . . . fuck, just be with her.

The urge is strong, the consequences even stronger.

I’m caught between a rock and a hard place.

“There they are,” Reid calls out, a huge smile on his face. “It’s about time.”

Beck pulls up in his black minivan, the triplets luckily with Rylee’s parents this weekend—how they watch that many kids at the same time, I have no idea—and he parks next to my truck.

“I’ll go help them unload,” Brig offers as Rylee and Beck open their doors. A side door opens as well.

Confused, I turn toward Reid, who’s still wearing that shit-eating grin. “Did they bring someone with them?”

“Hey, Ren, glad you could make it,” Brig calls out loudly.

Ren?

I make eye contact with Reid. “Surprise,” he says unabashedly.

My teeth grind together, my hands clenching at my sides. “What the fuck, Reid. Why is she here?”

“I invited her.”

Speaking through my teeth, I say, “I only brought three two-person tents. Where the hell is she supposed to sleep?”

The cocky motherfucker pats me on the back. “Well, she has her choice between three Knightly brothers. May the best man win.” With a wink, he takes off toward the minivan to help unpack the food.

I turn around, trying to gain my composure. I wasn’t expecting her to be here; I’m not fucking prepared for her to be here. And I’m certainly not going to let either of my brothers sleep with her, that’s for damn sure.

“Hey, Griffin,” her soft voice says from behind me. I turn around to find her in jean shorts, a tank top with a flannel shirt wrapped around her waist, and hiking boots. She looks all kinds of sexy and tempting.

Yeah, no one will be sleeping in her tent but me.

“Hey, Ren,” I say awkwardly with a wave. Be normal, Christ.

She scans the campground and plays with the sleeves of the flannel shirt tied around her small waist. “Can I be honest? When I said yes to this, I kind of forgot that you headed up the entire club. So I didn’t even think you’d be here. If I’d thought about it, I never would have come and invaded your space.”

What the hell is she talking about? Invading my space?

I might be dense, but I thought things were okay between us after I left her house. I thought the tension I was feeling toward her was only one sided and nothing for her to worry about.

I guess I was wrong.

“Ren, you’re not invading my space.” Not until we’re going to have to share a tent, but I don’t say that just yet.

“I wanted to give you some time away from always running into me.” She glances around again. “And it seems like I did a poor job. I can ask Beck to drive me into town, and I can take an Uber back to Port Snow, give you some time with your friends.”

Does she really think I’m that upset? That I don’t want to see her? Can’t she see it in my eyes—the way I light up whenever she’s around?

Obviously not, and that pains me.

Obviously, I’m a shit communicator.

Unable to stop myself, I reach out and take her hand in mine, rubbing my thumb over the backs of her knuckles. She takes in a sharp breath of air, her eyes fixed on our connection, before she looks up at me, searching for answers.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ren.”

Her expression softens, her fingers linking with mine. “You are?”

I nod. “I am.” I glance over her shoulder to find my brothers, Rylee, and Beck all staring at us, giant smiles across their faces. All meddlers, every single one of them.

But even though in the pit of my stomach I couldn’t be more terrified of what I’m feeling for her, I’m happy for one of the first times in two years.

“Come here.” I pull her into my chest and wrap my arms around her shoulders. She’s still for a second before she gives in and rests her head on my chest, her arms coming up around my waist. I squeeze her tight. “I’m sorry for making it weird. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I’m happy I’m here too.” She looks up at me. “I only brought marshmallows. Brig said to bring only marshmallows and clothes. I don’t have any camping gear.”

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.”