Page 65 of Return
Keefe straightened slowly, brushing dirt from his jeans and letting out a long exhale. He looked around again—really looked. There were no power lines. No distant houses. No sounds except the roaring wind and the low bleating of sheep. The view stretched on forever, soft mountain slopes rolling out like a painting come to life.
This place had a heartbeat. And for the first time since coming back, Keefe could feel his own syncing up with it.
It wasn’t until he climbed back into the car, grinning despite himself, that he realized just how long he’d been up there. The clock on the dash blinked at him. Shit was he late!
The “shortcut” had cost him time—and a clean jacket—but something about it made him not really care. The pub could wait. The guests could wait. His sister might kill him for it, but the mountains had given him something else entirely.
And if Sophie asked him why he was late? He’d just tell her the truth: “There was a ram. A fence. And the goddamn shortcut from hell.”
He sighed. At this rate, there was no way he would make it in time for the food delivery.
Meanwhile, Sophie—who had stormed out while he was still in the shower—was already at the pub.
He picked up his phone, surprised to see that he had service, and called to let her know he’d be late and to keep an eye out for the delivery.
“It’s here now,” she told him. “I’m handling it.”
His sister had always been very fastidious, so he knew she could handle the order. He just worried that with her altered state of my mind that she might miss something. But there was nothing to be done about that now. He would just have to let her handle it and trust that all would be well.
* * *
Keefe stood in the kitchen,arms crossed as he surveyed the newly delivered order. His stomach sank. “Sophie, I need you in here a minute!” Keefe called to his sister who was in the dining room setting the tables.
She came bustling into the kitchen. “What is it?”
“We might not have dinner for our guests. At least not on time.” He gestured to the meat delivery. “This is the wrong cut of meat. This takes hours to cook. I’ll have to get these roasts in right away now.”
She frowned. “Well, it’s not my fault. The guy must have left the wrong meat and then you called and distracted me.”
Keefe exhaled sharply. “Soph, this isn’t like you.” His concern deepened.
“Damn right it’s not like me. I know how picky and fussy you are about your groceries.”
At least she’d admitted her mistake and didn’t bite his head off. But now, he needed to know what was going on. They couldn’t go on like this. Not with their grand opening just around the corner. “All right, that’s it. What’s going on with you? You better just tell me now because you’re not leaving this kitchen until you do. And no more lame excuses either.” Keefe said it and he damn well meant it. He didn’t care if he started World War III. They were having this out here and now!
She swallowed hard, staring at the order she’d messed up—one mistake that could ruin their party. Keefe was right, of course. She was upset and distracted. She just hadn’t realized how much it had seeped into her work. And now, on the night they were supposed to be celebrating with friends and family, thanking them for their support, dinner might end up being nothing but sides. Keefe had put so much thought into this meal, and because of her negligence, it could all fall apart.
Keefe stood, waiting, expecting her to throw another tantrum. Then, suddenly, she blurted, “I found a ring in Liam’s drawer.”
Keefe’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen that coming. No wonder she was distracted. “What? You mean an engagement ring?”
She nodded.
“Oh,” he said slowly. This explained everything. “And he proposed, and you said… no?”
She shook her head. “He hasn’t asked. He doesn’t know I saw it.”
“Do you want him to ask you?” Keefe wanted Liam to ask her!
“I don’t know.”
Keefe studied her. Until recently, she had been the happiest he had seen her in many years. “I think you do.”
She blinked at him. “You do?”
He smiled warmly at his sister. She wasn’t riled up because she was angry. She was conflicted and second-guessing herself. “Yeah, sis. I do.”
She bit her lip. Okay, so maybe he was right. “But what if?—”
