“And that’s why your family’s so excited? Because you’re finally letting yourself live again?”

“I guess so. Jen’s been a huge advocate for me moving on, never believing in what happened to us in New Orleans, chalking it up to four drunken idiots. She’s over the moon that I’m finally giving in and letting you into my heart.”

Ren’s face softens, her body leaning in toward mine. “I’m in your heart?”

I bring my hand to her cheek and rub my thumb over her soft skin. “Yeah, you’re in there, and it’s terrifying, because I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t want . . .” I can’t even say the words; they get caught in my throat.

She tilts her head into my touch. “Griffin, you can’t let a drunken moment dictate your future. You realize that, right? You can’t live in the past.”

“Easier said than done, but I’m trying for you.”

I’ll put everything on the line to try for her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

REN

Why am I so nervous?

The man went down on me in the middle of the beach, butt-ass naked.

There should be no reason for nerves, but still, here I am, shaking in my heels as I wait for him to pick me up.

In the hallway mirror, I check my lipstick one last time.

After another long, private conversation with my mom about boundaries and “setting me free” from her worrying, I was able to establish some much-needed privacy for myself. It was a hard conversation, heartfelt, but necessary. My dad, the silent type, just hugged us after all was said and done, happy that we were able to work through everything.

I said bye to my parents this morning, both of them excited about my new life and the pseudofamily that’s taken me in. Not to mention my mom is obsessed with Griffin and made me take pictures with him so she could show all her friends back home.

I might have secretly asked her to send me those pictures so I have them whenever I need a little Griffin fix.

His picture certainly helped my first-day-of-school jitters this morning. Before the kids showed up in my classroom, I was a ball of anxiety, but his smile helped me calm down immediately.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons I’m so nervous—the fact that just a picture of him can put me at ease says a lot. I’ve fallen for this man, hard, and I have a feeling that tonight is going to be no less than magical.

There is a knock at my door, startling me away from the mirror. With a deep breath, I open the door to find Griffin on the other side, wearing a light-blue button-up tucked into the waist of his black pants, sleeves rolled and pushed up to his elbows. The blue in the shirt makes his eyes pop, capturing me right away.

He gives me a slow once-over, a sexy grin tugging at his lips as he appreciates my navy-blue dress with the keyhole neckline. “You look sexy as hell, Ren.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” I step into his embrace, grip the back of his neck, and move my lips against his, deepening our kiss with one swipe of my tongue.

He groans and quickly pulls away, a determined look in his eyes. “None of that, Miss Winters. I’m taking you out on a date; there will be no tongue fucking until later tonight.”

I chuckle and let him grip me around the waist, guiding me out of my house. I lock up quickly. “Tongue fucking? You’re so eloquent and romantic.”

“There is way more where that came from. Just wait.”

He helps me into his truck and shuts the door for me. While he rounds the hood of the car, I can’t help but think how lucky I am that I started a new life in this charming town and just so happened to fall into the arms of the sexiest, sweetest man I’ve ever met.

Griffin hops into his truck, roars it to life, and puts on his seat belt. He sets the music—the Lumineers—and pulls out onto our street.

“Where are we going?”

“The Lighthouse Restaurant,” he answers with a smile.

“The Lighthouse? I haven’t been there yet.”

“Good, so it makes this that much more special.”

Griffin sets his napkin on his lap and casually takes a sip of water.

I’m not as comfortable.

I fumble with my napkin, drop my silverware to the floor, and almost spill my water as I bring it to my mouth with a shaky hand.

Once I take a sip, I lean forward and lower my voice. “Don’t you see them all staring?”

“No, I do. I just choose to focus on you.”

It’s a Wednesday night, the middle of the week. I thought we would be safe going to a public place for the first time as a couple. Boy, was I wrong.

I swear half of Port Snow is here, watching our every move.

When we walked into the restaurant holding hands, the dining room quieted down. All eyes focused on us as hushed whispers started to spread from table to table.

Griffin didn’t think much of it as we were guided to a table in the far corner overlooking the ocean, the view lit up by the lighthouse attached to the dining room. It’s incredibly beautiful, but I’m so beyond distracted by all the prying eyes.

“Hey.” Griffin leans forward and presses his finger to my chin, turning my focus onto him. “Ignore them. It was bound to happen at some point. They’ll get back to their meals soon. It’s just me and you here. Now, tell me about your first day of school. Do I need to talk to any parents for you?”

The tension in my shoulders eases slightly. “No parent-boyfriend conferences needed just yet.”

His lips curve up, crinkles in the corners of his eyes. “Just let me know. I’ve got your back, babe.”

The term of endearment lightens up my mood, suddenly helping me forget about all the people around us. Just like he asked, I focus on him and our conversation.

“Any teacher’s pets?”

I nod, thinking back to the girl who dropped off a gift at the end of class after everyone had left the classroom. “This sweet girl, Mikaila—”

“Mikaila Hawkins? Oh yeah, huge butt kisser. She’s known for it.”

I raise an eyebrow, questioning. “Are you . . . spreading some gossip, Mr. Knightly?”

“Just informing you. She’ll tell you you’re her favorite and how you’re making such an impact on her life, but it’s a load of crap. The girl kisses ass for good grades. Classic Mikaila. Watch your back with that one—she’s known to steal highlighters from teachers. I heard she has a collection and writes the teacher’s name on each one along with the year she took it.”

“No she doesn’t,” I chuckle.

“She does. Ask any one of your teacher friends. She has a reputation, so keep an eye on your highlighters.”

“Noted.” I scan the dining room quickly before asking in a whisper, “Do you know anything about George Woodside?”

“Smart-ass little fucker. Incredibly intelligent and uses it against his teachers. His parents could care less about the gossip train, so he’s a tough one to crack. My advice with George: study what he says, pay attention and look for a flaw, point out that flaw, and prove him wrong right there on the spot. It’s the only way to keep him quiet. And if he still gives you trouble, I’ll make sure to scare the living crap out of him somehow.”

“Scaring middle schoolers, huh? You have no pride.”

“Not when it comes to you.” He winks and takes another sip of his water.

“I feel really stupid right now.”

“Why?” Griffin lowers his spoonful of soup.

“Because I waited this long to come here and try the famous lobster bisque. What’s wrong with me?”

“I’m glad you waited, because I got to be the one who introduced you to it.”

“It’s so cheesy and perfect.” I savor every swallow, occasionally dipping the hearty bread that came with the main dishes.

“That’s why it’s the best meal in Port Snow, hands down.”

“I’m seeing the light now.” I wink. “No pun intended.”

“Cheesy, Ren, cheesy.” He pauses and winks back. “Now that’s no pun intended.”

I shake my head, giggling. “Is this what happens to people when they start dating in this town? They become hopelessly corny?”

“The cool factor is dropped a few notches; I’ve heard of this happening before.”

“Are we not cool?”

“I’m afraid not,” he answers. “I think we lost the cool factor the minute we started gossiping about preteens.”

I point my spoon accusingly at him. “Hey, you started that conversation.”

“True, but it was for the good of the math department. You have to know the lay of the land if you want to teach the best algebra you can.”

“And teen gossip helps with that?”

“Easily.”

“Well, are there any tidbits of gossip I need to know to help me be the best girlfriend to Griffin Knightly?”

“Hmm.” He leans back in his chair. “I’m sure there are some false stories floating around, so you can’t believe everything you hear, but I think one of the best things you can do for yourself is spread your own stories. That way, you can see who you can’t trust and who you can, which is pretty much no one.”

“Spread my own rumors?”

He nods and swallows another spoonful of his soup. “Come up with some stupid story and tell someone; see how far it can go. It’s easier to deal with made-up stories than real things built up into blatant lies.”