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Keefe nodded. “Ginny, we were discussing what to do with the upstairs rooms. How would you feel about living above the pub and running a bed-and-breakfast? We have three rooms we’d like to rent out.”
“Really? Do you mean it? I’d love to!” she squealed as she leaped from her seat and threw her arms around Keefe and Sophie, squeezing the life out of them.
“Then it’s a deal.” Keefe, who was currently being strangled, said. “You can move in next week.” Finally, Ginny released them and he could breathe. “Will you be fine for lodging until then?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve got a room at a great hotel in Killarney.”
With the quiche now properly baked to perfection, Keefe went to work plating up the slices and made the sweet tea.
“Is it the Swan Lake Hotel?” asked Sophie.
“That’s the one. What a beautiful place that is! All those mountains—and that lake—and the ruins, and swans! I even saw a bunch of deer while I was soaking in the hot tub.” She caught herself talking too much again. “Anyway, I’ve got plans to see a few more sights.”
Keefe slid a plate in front of Ginny, piled high with a fresh slice of quiche and a warm buttermilk biscuit slathered in butter then set down a tall glass of sweet iced tea beside it. And without missing a beat, he handed her a thermos filled to the brim.
“There you go, darlin’,” he said with an exaggerated Southern accent. “Figured you might need a little taste of home.”
Ginny was delighted with her tea. “Thank you so much!” She picked up her glass and took a long drink then set it down and wiped the top of her lip. “This is perfect! It’s even got that beautiful foam on top—that’s how you know it’s fresh! Keefe, you’re an angel from Heaven!”
He wasn’t stupid—Ginny would not find proper sweet tea anywhere else, and if he had any hope of keeping his sister from tearing her hair out, he needed Ginny to come back and actually take the job. A little Southern hospitality never hurt anyone—especially when it came with a job offer attached.
Chapter22
Sophie slammed the dishwasher shut.Or at least, she tried to. The damn thing bounced back open, smacking against her shin and instead of closing it properly she slammed it again. And again. Each time her shin suffered the consequences.
She clutched her leg, hopping in place as she let loose a long, loud string of colorful curses.
Keefe, who was still asleep seeing as it was only five thirty in the morning, heard her from down the hallway and came running, thinking something was wrong. When he found her kicking the dishwasher, he rolled his eyes. This foul mood of hers had gone on long enough. “You know Soph, if brains were dynamite, you wouldn’t have enough to blow your own head off.”
Sophie turned on him, temper flaring. “Don’t you start that shit with me, Keefe! I’m in no mood!”
She was already angry, so to avoid a brawl, he kept his voice steady—which wasn’t difficult considering he was half asleep. “That’s just it. You’ve been in a mood now for over a week. Now I find you stomping around at not even the ass crack of dawn and picking a fight with the dishwasher.”
She huffed and spun away, yanking a towel off the counter. Not because she actually needed a kitchen towel. She just needed something to do with her hands—because if she didn’t, she might slap her brother just for the hell of it. “Whatever.”
Keefe yawned wide and dragged his hand through his hair as he wobbled on his half-dead feet. This was going to be one long-ass morning. “So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong—and don’t use the empty waitress position as an excuse this time.”
“What makes you think anything is wrong?”
“I know you. I know you better than I know myself. You may be a morning person but this ain’t morning, sis. So, what is it?” Keefe leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “Something is wrong.” And he wasn’t moving from this spot until she told him.
Well, yeah duh! Of course, something was wrong!
But was it wrong,really? Really, how wrong was it that the love of her life, after thirty-five years, still wanted to marry her? She thought back for a thoughtful moment to the day she and he got “married.” He was such a beautiful boy, always kind and thoughtful. And the man that boy had become was no different.
And… no. No and’s. This was insane.
But she couldn’t talk about it. She wasn’t ready. So, naturally, she made something up. Too bad what she’d come up with was aboutthelamest excuse ever. She stomped her foot and whined about the first thing that came to mind. “You ate all the cookies!”
Keefe blinked. “What?” Was that really the best she could come up with? Cookies? This was going to be one long ass morning. “I’m… sorry?
“Damn right you’re sorry!” Or if he wasn’t, he was about to be. Why she was taking this out on her brother, she didn’t know. But hey, sometimes that’s life. “You know how much I love those cookies!”
She threw the towel at him and missed by a mile. That wasn’t like her at all.
Keefe stared at her, unimpressed. “You’re mad over cookies? That’s your story? That’s really the hill you want to die on?”
“What? It’s a perfectly valid reason to be upset.” She propped her fists on her hips. She didn’t have a leg to stand on and she knew it but she wasn’t about to back down.
