Page 55 of Surrender
“Good.” Nan winked. “Took you long enough, you feckin’ eejit. I love you, Keefe.”
“Love you too.” He kissed her cheek and started for the door, then turned back. “Maybe, don’t tell the family where I’ve gone, okay? Especially not Sophie.”
“I’ll cover for you,” she whispered, touching her finger to her nose with a wink.
Once he was outside the door, Keefe practically ran to his car, patting his pockets for his phone. Not there.
“Shit,” he muttered, slamming the door. He tore through the glove box. Still nothing. With a groan, he put the car in gear and sped toward home.
He’d grab his phone and then head straight for Cian’s house. If she wasn’t there, he’d try Dublin. He’d drive all night if he had to.
But just as he turned onto his street, the sky cracked open and rain slammed down in sheets—fast, thick, blinding. He could barely see the road in front of him and the tires fought to keep traction.
By the time he pulled into his drive, he was soaked through just from dashing to the door.
And then he saw her.
Standing on his porch, soaked from head to toe, hair plastered to her cheeks, mascara smudged under red-rimmed eyes.
Gwen.
She looked up as he stepped under the overhang. Their eyes met.
Stunned, Keefe blinked at her. “What are you doing here?”
“I didn’t think you’d answer if I called. But I had to try. I just… I couldn’t leave things the way we did.” She took a breath and when he didn’t say anything, she continued. “Just two minutes. That’s all I ask. Please?”
Keefe stepped forward, heart thudding in his chest, the storm raging behind them. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her, tell her never to leave again. “I was just about to chase you across the whole damn country.”
Gwen gave a watery laugh. That was the last thing she expected him to say. “Then I’m glad I saved you the fuel.”
He reached for her hand and gently held it in his own. She didn’t pull away. “How’s your hand?” It was the fist she’d used to throw a punch.
“It’s fine now.”
“Come inside,” he said, voice breaking just a little.
“Are you sure?” she had barely gotten the words out without crying.
And just like that, he kissed her. Not hard or rushed. Just soft. Steady. A promise in the storm.
She let out a laugh-choked sob and collapsed into his arms. He wrapped her up and held her there like he never wanted to let go again.
Eventually, he pulled back, wiping her face with the edge of his sleeve. “Come on. Let’s get you warm.”
The door shut with a soft click behind them, sealing out the storm but not the wild storm still thrumming inside her chest. Rain drummed against the windows, the only sound besides their uneven breathing.
Gwen stood just inside the entryway, soaked to the skin. Water clung to her hair, her clothes, her lashes. She looked wild and beautiful and heartbreakingly vulnerable.
Keefe didn’t move for a moment. Just stared at her like she might vanish.
Then, suddenly, he was on her.
Starving for the taste of her, his mouth crushed against hers, hands in her hair, pulling her in. She gasped into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, her body pressed tight against his soaked suit.
He spun her until her back hit the wall, lifting her effortlessly as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands gripped her thighs, dragging her hips closer as he kissed her like a man who had lost and found her all in the same breath.
“God, Gwen…” he growled against her mouth. “I didn’t know how much I needed you until you were gone.”
