Page 50 of Surrender
“I can’t cook but I can wait tables,” she called into the kitchen.
Keefe glanced up from the grill, giving her that easy smile that always made her heart do a funny flip. “You sure you want to jump into this chaos, love?”
She winked, though the knot of guilt in her stomach pulled a little tighter. She’d tried to tell him who she really was a dozen times—last night while they cleaned up after closing, again this morning over coffee but every time she began, someone interrupted, or Keefe would look at her like she was the most important thing in the room, and her words would die on her lips.
Sophie was too busy to be surprised. She was just grateful for the help. She told Ruby where to start, said a genuine thank you, then hustled out the door carrying a full tray of food.
Before long, Gwen was weaving through the crowd, a notepad tucked into her apron pocket, and a tray balanced on her hand, laughing and chatting away.
A while later, Sophie ducked behind the bar and grabbed two glasses of water, handing one to Ruby. They both leaned against the back counter, taking a breath as the clatter of cutlery and hum of conversation filled the pub.
“Thanks again for jumping in,” Sophie said, brushing a damp strand of hair off her forehead. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Ruby smiled. “It’s either this or sit at home watching Mastermind and yelling at strangers through the screen.”
Sophie grinned, then nodded toward a man at one of the booths, practically oozing over the table toward Ginny. He was grinning and talking with his hands with his chest puffed out like a prize rooster.
“That one’s about two compliments away from pulling a muscle,” Sophie said low enough for only Ruby to hear.
Ruby took a slow sip of water. “Should we intervene?”
“Ginny can hold her own. He’s about thirty seconds from getting a biology lesson on where she’d like him to shove that smile.”
Right on cue. Ginny turned on her heel and the rooster, now deflated, sat down.
They both laughed—tired, breathy, but genuine.
Ginny joined them and Sophie poured her a glass of water then passed it to her.
“Nice work over there handling that guy,” Gwen said.
Ginny flapped her hand in the air as she took a long drink of water. “He’s harmless. He’s proposed to me every week since I came here. It’s those other guys over near the fireplace that worry me. They were having words a minute ago. Something about a horse.”
Gwen set down her empty glass just as someone called her name from the kitchen window. “Order up!” She slid back into the flow, grabbing the tray and balancing it with ease.
Sophie smiled, watching Gwen weave through the crowd, with a calm, collected energy that made her look like she’d been doing this for years.
The din of the pub buzzed around her—glasses clinking, laughter bellowing. It was an easy, untroubled sound… until a sharp, too-loud voice sliced through it.
Two men at a nearby table stood abruptly—chairs screeching, drinks sloshing. One of them bumped Gwen as she was setting a plate down, nearly knocking the tray from her hand.
“Oi!” she snapped, steadying it. “Watch it.”
They didn’t even look at her. Chest to chest, voices raised. They were about to blow.
“All right,” said Gwen, setting the tray down on the nearest table. “You want to act like cavemen, do it somewhere else.”
The first man—tall, slicked-back hair, and probably full of piss and nonsense—shoved his chair back with a screech. “What did you say to me?”
“I called you a lying, cheating, prick of a bollocks,” the second guy slurred, his cheeks blotchy and hands twitching.
Gwen was there before either could make a move. She stepped straight into the space between them, eyes hard, jaw locked, heart pounding but feet steady. “Take. It. Outside,” she said, low and lethal. “Or sit down, shut your mouths, and drink like grown-ass men.”
“Move, sweetheart,” the slick one snarled, swaying slightly. “This is between me and him.”
Wrong answer.
“I said you’re done.”
