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“Uh-huh.” Keefe grabbed a tin off the counter. “In that case, it’s a good thing I made you these to make up for it.”
Sophie frowned as he popped the lid, revealing rich chocolate chip cookie brownies with creamy peanut butter centers. She hesitated, then reached for one as if she were handling the Koh-i-Noor Diamond. She took one luxurious bite and a low groan of delight left her lips. “You should put these on the dessert menu.”
“You think so?” he asked, smirking.
She took another bite, her eyes rolling back. Each bite would put a pound on her hips, but it was so worth it. “Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t love one of these bad boys as a treat? They’re like an orgasm in every bite. Women from here to Derry would be beating down your door, for one.”
The teasing tone vanished as his expression turned more serious. “You know, speaking of things that are off—you haven’t been spending much time with Liam lately.”
Sophie shrugged off the question. “We’ve both been busy is all. In case you’ve forgotten we open in a week and tonight we’re having a party for fifty people.”
Keefe didn’t buy it. “Busy with the grand opening, sure. But it’s weird, Soph. You two have been inseparable since you got together, you’ve been happy, and now suddenly, you’re not. What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” She sucked the peanut butter from her fingers a little too aggressively.
“Is he coming to the party tonight?”
He just had to ask that question. Dammit. She wasn’t sure how to skirt around it but she was going to try. “No. I didn’t invite him.”
“What? Why not? This makes no sense.”
“He’s working on something and wouldn’t be able to come anyway, so I figured I’d save him the trouble of having to say no and feel bad for not coming. Besides, Liam and I can’t be in each other’s pockets all the time, okay? He’s got his own shit to do. It’s normal. People do have their own lives, you know!” Well, that had all come out with a little too much sarcasm. Even she didn’t believe herself. Sophie looked away across the room to the window that she so dearly wished she could jump out of right now.
His gaze sharpened. “Right. And snapping at me every time I ask a simple question? Is that normal too?”
Sophie’s jaw clenched. He was trying what little patience she had. “I don’t have time for this.”
Keefe held up his hands. “All right, all right. But something’s off, and you know it. For God’s sake, I wish you would just tell me what it is. Maybe I could help?”
Sophie grabbed another cookie and stormed away to her room, effectively ending the conversation.
Or so she thought. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
* * *
Hours later,Keefe found himself stuck behind a herd of sheep, each one taking its sweet time crossing the road.
It was springtime—the kind of Irish spring that crept in slowly but beautifully, with wildflowers peeking up like they were just testing the air. The party was that evening, and Keefe had run out to meet with a potential new local supplier for the pub. Sophie had trusted him alone with the errand, but really, he was just glad for the excuse to get out into the countryside for a bit and enjoy the scenery.
The farmer had been good craic, full of advice and stories, and when Keefe looked at his watch and said he needed to get back to the pub quickly, the man had waved him off with a laugh and said, “Ah sure, take the shortcut—much faster than the main road.”
Shortcut, my ass.
As Keefe sat waiting in the car, letting the engine idle, he was forced to take a breath and actually look around. He had almost forgotten just how breathtaking it was out here. The mountains stretched out around him—massive, ancient, and wide open. Not a single house in sight, just endless landscape and the odd speck of a sheep in the distance. The road he was on wasn’t much wider than a dining table, barely enough room for his car. No truck on the planet could have made it up here. Winding and narrow and edged by barbed wire fences and boulders the size of cars, it wasn’t what anyone would call a main road.
He grinned despite himself. It was wild and rough and so bloody Irish—and he loved it.
The winter browns were giving way to patches of green, and here and there, wild flowers popped up along the edge of the road. Nothing fancy, just wild beauty.
He and Sophie had been so consumed with building O’Brians that they’d barely had time to enjoy being back. But this place—this stretch of wild nothingness with its stubborn sheep and sky so wide it could swallow you whole—thiswas home. Not Massachusetts. Not the suburbs or the polite little parks. Here.
That’s when he saw it—a ram, head fully stuck between the wires of the fence just off the road to his left. The thing was struggling, horns twisted in just the wrong way, its body jerking in frustration as the other sheep milled about, some already crossing the road like it was theirs—which of course, it was.
Keefe muttered a curse as he stepped out into the wind that nearly bent his car door. It was sharp up here, the kind of wind that cut through even his coat, and he had to tread carefully across the uneven ground littered with rocks and tufts of coarse grass.
The ram snorted and kicked as he approached. “Easy now,” Keefe said, squinting as he examined the situation. Barbed wire. Of course, it was barbed bloody wire. One wrong move and he’d slice his hand open. Still, the poor creature wasn’t getting out on its own, and he couldn’t leave it.
It took a few minutes, some careful maneuvering, and one particularly close call that snagged his sleeve, but eventually Keefe managed to angle the ram’s horns just right and guide its head free. The animal gave a grunt of gratitude—well, more like annoyance—but bolted off to rejoin its mates on the other side of the road.
