My dress fully unzipped, Griffin pushes it down over my shoulders and to the ground, where it pools at my heels, exposing my matching set of red lace lingerie.

His hum of approval fills me with need as I turn around and find the buttons on his shirt, quickly undoing them and exposing his rock-hard chest. Gripping me by the ass, he hoists me into the air, and I circle my legs around his waist. He walks us up the stairs to his bedroom, his mouth desperate on mine.

“Your parents’ visit really fucked up the plans I had for us.”

“We missed three nights together.” I giggle as he tosses me on the bed, my hair fanning out next to me.

“Still too fucking long.” He strips down to his boxer briefs, his bulge already prominent, and leans down on the bed, raking his eyes over my body. Growing serious, he props himself over me, his elbows resting on the bed, his face inches from mine. “What made you wait?”

“Wait for you?” I ask, brushing my fingers through his soft hair.

“Yes. After we almost kissed in the street, what made you give me another chance?”

“Honestly? Stupid hope that maybe, just maybe, you would open your heart and give me a chance too. That you would give us a chance.”

“And all those times we were together, were you hoping then?”

I bite my bottom lip. This is the perfect moment, but I’m scared out of my mind to confess how much I feel for him.

“Tell me.” He nudges me with a light kiss to my nose. “Were you hoping?”

I shake my head, and a crease forms in his brow. “No, all the time we spent together, I was falling harder for you every minute.”

I hold his gaze, fighting the urge to bury my head in his pillows. He needs to know this is serious for me, that I want nothing more than for our relationship to morph into forever.

He’s silent for a long moment, my stomach churning with nerves until he smiles. “I think I was doing the same exact thing.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

GRIFFIN

“Word on the street is you took Ren to the Lighthouse Restaurant the other night. And before you deny it—” Jen sets the local gossip newspaper on the counter in front of me. It showcases a picture of Ren and me having dinner together and holding hands beneath the headline:

GRIFFIN KNIGHTLY BREAKS HIS CURSE!

You would think I’d be shocked, that I’d have some choice words about invasion of privacy.

But it’s Port Snow.

It’s not the first time I’ve been in the headlines, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.

Rolling my eyes, I count the change in the cash register, the start of the school year finally giving us a little bit of reprieve from the busy tourist season. Between now and Christmas we’ll just have a steady flow of customers, no rush like in the summer.

Thank God.

“Glad to see the tradition of gossip and snooping still holds strong in this town. What else did you hear?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Hit me with the stories.” This should at least be entertaining.

Jen wraps up the leftover scones—she came in to help with closing—and counts off on her fingers. “Let’s see. The obvious, that you were on a date. That you were whispering about a possible unexpected pregnancy.” I snort. “That you were actually just getting a tutoring session because you’re taking online classes to earn your degree in firefighting.”

“Okay, whoever came up with that one needs the tutoring.”

Jen chuckles. “That one was my favorite. Oh, and the one where you two went at it like rabbits on the beach.”

I try to hide my reaction to the last one as I swallow hard. Holy shit . . . did someone see us?

Staying calm, I say, “People need to get lives.”

“That’s what I said. Who in their right mind would have sex on the beach in Port Snow? Anyone could catch them.”

“For real. So dumb.”

Jesus Christ, my palms are sweaty.

“So did you have a good time? Have you seen her since?”

I wrap up a wad of twenties and stick it in the money bag. “Every night this week.”

“Really?” Jen perks up, her little romantic heart going a mile a minute, I’m sure.

“Yeah, really. I like her a lot, Jen. I’m falling for her, hard and fast, and I’m finding it damn hard to concentrate on anything other than her.”

“Oh my God, Griff! That’s so exciting.” She grins widely. “It’s happening—you’re loving again.”

“I think I am.”

“And what about the booth? I spoke with Dad the other day, and let me just say, with the addition of Ren in your life and you taking over the Lobster Fest booth, he’s almost too giddy, as if another fudge catalog came in.”

I pull on the back of my neck, thinking over all my plans. “It’s all in motion. The decorations, the games, the apple stamps. Spoke with Bernadette over at the cidery, and she’s really excited to partner up. I submitted the menu to the committee along with my fund-raising goals.” A small smile peeks past my lips. “I’m pretty sure this will be the best booth we’ve had to date.”

Jen returns my smile. “I couldn’t agree more. Dad almost seemed jealous that he didn’t come up with the idea himself, but he also was really proud. I think he’s ready.”

“Ready to hand over the shop?” I ask, butterflies floating in my stomach.

“Yeah, I really think he is.”

And that right there just makes me think all the puzzle pieces of my life are finally starting to come together . . .

My pager goes off, and I quickly pull it off my belt loop. Dispatch calling in for help. I’m supposed to be on duty in thirty minutes. My brow pinches together when I see the code for me to call in. I pull out my cell phone and call dispatch. “This is Griffin,” I say when they answer.

“Griffin, there was an accident over on Main and Turnpike by the school.” The second she says school, my heart starts to pound. “Vehicle collision—debris went everywhere. You start in thirty, but they need some help down there now.”

I swallow hard, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, while a horrible feeling sinks into the pit of my stomach. “Any injuries?”

“Yes. EMT is on it.”

My heart pounds; the room starts to spin. “Okay, I’m on my way.” I hang up the phone, my feet planted firmly in place for a few seconds, my mind trying to comprehend the magnitude of that phone call.

“What’s going on?” Jen asks with a worried expression.

“There was a collision by the school. They need help.” I pocket my phone and start moving, my firefighter instincts kicking in. “I have to get down there, now. I need to make sure . . .”

Jen rounds the counter and chases after me as I head out the front door. “Griffin, don’t jump to conclusions.”

I don’t say a word; instead, I sprint the half mile down the street, my mind whirling with every single possibility, with every negative and damning thought of what could have happened to Ren—and that it’s my fault.

From this day on, your love will be broken.

The words that have been hanging over me for so long spur me forward.

Before I even reach the school, I can hear the commotion of onlookers gathering, the putrid smell of burnt rubber floating through the air. When I turn off of Main, the school comes into view, as well as a logging truck and SUV smashed together, lumber scattered everywhere.

I look around, my eyes scanning for one person and one person alone. I need to make sure she’s okay.

Volunteers are picking up the scattered wood, the police are talking to the drivers, and a tow truck from Brig’s garage is already starting to remove the vehicles.

No sign of Brig.

No sign of Ren.

My heart starts to ease. She wasn’t involved. Thank Christ.

I press my hand against my forehead as Tracker appears at my side. “Hey, man. Dispatch call you in early?”

“Yeah.” I let out a pent-up breath, the tension in my shoulders easing. “Said you needed help with cleanup.”

“Yeah, it’s been a clusterfuck down here. Medical is still tending to people.”

“What do you mean? Wasn’t it just the two drivers?”

Tracker shakes his head. “The drivers were fine; it was the people on the streets that got the brunt of it from all the wood flying out of the back of the truck.”

Once again, the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. “How many injured?”

“Three teachers, five students.”

“Where are they?” I don’t wait for an answer and head toward the ambulance. Inside, two students are being patched up. Off to the side, I see two teachers, one with a bandage on her arm, the other with a bandage on his leg. I continue to scan the area, and a woman on a gurney is rolled into view, brown hair hanging over the edge. Everything in me stills as I take in the blood that has dried on her face and the red-stained cloth wrapped around her head.

Ren.

I rush to her, jumping over some wood and making my way to the gurney, my heart beating a mile a minute. When I reach her, I can’t contain the desperation in my voice. “Ren, baby, are you okay?”