Page 61 of Surrender
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Do you want me to go in with you?”
Gwen nodded, squeezing her hands together tight.
Keefe took them in his and kissed her fingers, then laced their fingers together. With one last steadying breath, he opened the door and led her through.
Shamus, who had been sitting at the bar, stood the moment he saw her. As she approached, and he got a proper look at her, his breath caught in his chest.
It was like seeing his wife again.
She was every bit the image of his Caireann. The same long auburn hair. That soft, thoughtful expression. Those wide, gentle, sea-green eyes.
Tears sprang to his eyes before he could stop them.
“Gwen?” His voice was rough, full of disbelief and something deeper—something broken and whole all at once. “Jesus, love. It’s so good to finally meet you.”
She stepped forward, unsure what to say, and offered her hand. “You too.”
He took it in both of his, holding on as if he might never get another chance.
She didn’t understand why the look on this stranger’s face—this man she’d never met before—could make her throat burn and her eyes sting. But there it was. His tears… for her.
Her.
Gwen McKenna, the girl nobody had ever really wanted. The one who spent holidays alone. Who lived with secrets and half-truths and silence. The girl who lied to find connection—and who was now making a man with the kindest face she’d ever seen weep.
“Would it be all right if I hug you?” Shamus asked.
She nodded, and he pulled her into his arms without hesitation. Tears fell freely from them both.
“I’m so happy you found us,” he whispered. “Words can’t say how much. I’ve been looking for you, love. Did you know that?”
Gwen froze. “You… you were looking for me?” She couldn’t remember a time when anyone had come looking for her—certainly not like this. The tears returned in full force. “I’m so sorry for?—”
“No need for that, love.” He pulled back just enough to look at her face. “Keefe explained everything. You were brave to come here, not knowing us. That takes real heart. You must have been terrified.”
Gwen nodded, swallowing hard.
“But that’s all done now,” Shamus said. “Now, let’s just look forward, aye?”
She wiped at her eyes and met his gaze. “Okay.”
“Okay.” He hugged her again and gave her back a few gentle, bucking pats that somehow made her laugh through her tears. “Keefe, my boy,” he called over her shoulder, “how about some drinks? I think our Gwen here could use one—and so could I. Maybe something to eat too. Happy moments like this make me bloody starving.”
Gwen let out a shaky laugh and nodded. “I could eat.”
“Now that’s what I like to hear.”
Keefe smiled and headed toward the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “I’ve got just the thing.”
They moved to a table near the window where the sunlight poured in, golden and warm. Shamus pulled out a chair for Gwen before taking his own.
He didn’t press her with questions. Didn’t push or pry. Just sat across from her with a calm presence and an easy kindness that helped settle her nerves.
There would be time for stories. No need to ambush her.
Keefe returned with a spread of warm bread, cold meats, tapenade, and sliced fruit. He set it all down in the center of the table and poured three small glasses of whiskey from behind the bar.
