Page 9 of Surrender
She turned again, but before she could close the door?—
“Ginny?”
She peeked back in.
“Before I forget, there’s going to be some construction out back soon—we’re building a flat so we can rent out your room upstairs?—”
“You’re firing me?” Her eyes went wide. “Please don’t! I can do better, I swear!”
“No, Gin?—”
“I’m sorry about the glass I broke. I’ll pay for it!” The words came so fast Keefe couldn’t get a syllable in.
“Ginny!” He held up both hands. This time, she stayed quiet. “We’re not firing you. I was going to ask if you’d like to move into the new flat. Live there.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re building me an Irish cottage? Oh my God! I’m getting my very own Irish cottage in Ireland!”
“Not exactly a cottage, more like?—”
“I’m so excited!” She bent down and nearly lifted him out of his chair in a hug. “I’ll have you over for dinner in my Irish cottage kitchen!”
“You really have fallen for this place,” he said with a chuckle.
“Oh, I truly have. When I took a buggy ride through the Gap of Dunloe, we stopped at this place—white walls, red windows, flowers everywhere.” She snapped her fingers, trying to recall. “Kate Kearney’s Cottage. Have you been?”
Keefe grinned. “Yeah. Used to go cliff-jumping into a pond near there. Nearly gave my parents a heart attack.”
She stared at him like he was completely insane—who leaps off a cliff into a pond?—then shrugged it off. “Well, now that’s all I want. And now I’m getting one!” She squealed. “I gotta call my daddy!” She kissed his cheek with a loud smack and hurried off.
Keefe shook his head. She’d be disappointed when she learned it wasn’t her dream cottage. In fact, the Irish would call it a “granny flat”—but he wasn’t about to ruin her fun.
“Hey, Ginny?” he called after her.
She leaned back in, nearly bumping the doorway with her forehead.
“I was thinking, would you—” His phone buzzed. “Sorry, it’s Aunt Nan. I have to take this.”
“All right. Goodnight—again.”
He answered, then covered the receiver. “Hey, Ginny?”
She stopped one last time, hand on the doorframe.
“How about an early lunch tomorrow? I’ll make steak sandwiches.”
Her smile lit up her whole face. “You’re on.”
And then she was gone, her footsteps light on the old wooden floor as she danced upstairs.
Keefe leaned back in his chair, the silence settling in again—but it didn’t feel quite so heavy now.
Chapter 5
The lunch rush was finally over—thank God. It had been one of those relentless midday stampedes where the orders never stopped coming, the fryer never shut up, and the plates seemed to multiply on their own. But somehow, they’d made it through without a single disaster. No spills, no fights, no customers storming out. A small miracle.
Keefe rolled his shoulders and ran a hand down his apron as he pushed through the swinging kitchen doors, already tasting the cold beer he planned to grab from behind the bar.
What he hadn’t expected was to walk straight into a front-row seat of Ginny at full wattage.
