Chapter 12
Sunlight spilled across tangled sheets as Keefe and Gwen lay side by side, arms wrapped around each other. Time was suspended—four perfect nights and three perfect days had run together like one long, breathless dream.
Each morning, they made breakfast together in his kitchen, moving around each other like it was something they had always done.
He flipped pancakes with ridiculous flair, grinning at her laughter even as batter splattered across the counter.
She teased him, her eyes soft, and he soaked it in like sunlight.
Later, they wandered the property hand in hand, their steps unhurried, their conversations stretching from playful memories to quiet, tender hopes—things neither of them had dared to say out loud in years, until now.
And every night ended the same—Gwen tangled in his arms, breathless and glowing, discovering new ways they fit together so perfectly that it scared her.
But it was the softer moments that really mattered: Keefe brushing a stray lock of hair from her face as they listened to the rain, Gwen making him laugh so hard he had to catch his breath, the quiet contentment of shared coffee in the morning with no words needed.
Yet under the sweetness and fire, Gwen felt the weight of her secret. Every kiss, every look, every time Keefe pulled her close—it all pressed a little harder on her conscience. She hadn’t meant to stay. Hadn’t meant to let someone in like this.
She’d come to the village chasing a thread of truth, a shadow of a connection.
What she found instead was a man who made her laugh until her sides hurt, who kissed her like he was memorizing her soul, who made her believe—against every instinct—that she could belong somewhere. That she could belong to someone.
And the more she fell for him, the more she dreaded the moment the truth would come out. Not just about her name but about why she’d come here in the first place.
For three perfect days, they’d been tucked away from the world—shacked up in their own little cocoon. Mornings spent in bed, afternoons wandering hand in hand, evenings tangled up in each other until the lines blurred and nothing else existed.
But today, the spell would break. The pub reopened, and with it, the outside world would come rushing back in. Keefe would have to leave after breakfast. And their private world, the one that had felt like a dream, would no longer be just theirs.
This morning felt heavier somehow. Still and quiet, like the moment before a confession. Her head rested on his shoulder, their legs a warm knot beneath the blanket, sunlight painting soft gold across the room. It was the kind of moment that didn’t just welcome the truth—it insisted on it.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She wouldn’t.
“Keefe, there’s something I need to say.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. He slid his hand gently to her waist, fingers curling around her like he couldn’t bear to let go. “If you say it, I’ll say it back.”
She hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. He looked so certain, so open, so heartbreakingly hers in that instant. And for a second, she let herself believe that maybe he did know. Maybe he’d guessed the truth and was giving her an opening. Maybe he could love her anyway.
“I love you, Ruby.”
Her breath hitched. “That’s what you thought I was going to say?”
“Wasn’t it?”
She blinked. Once. Then again. And again. She did. She loved him. Madly. Fully. Maybe it wasn’t what she’d planned to say, but it was the truth.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I do. I love you, Keefe. Maybe it’s crazy, but I do.”
Keefe broke into a grin so wide it nearly undid her. He pulled her on top of him, wrapping both arms around her like he never meant to let go. “It’s fast, but when you know, you know.”
“When you know, you know,” Gwen echoed, laughing into his kiss as it deepened, soft and slow and full of wonder.
But even in the joy, the secret hung between them like a ghost at the edge of the bed. Waiting. Watching. Gwen knew it wouldn’t wait forever.
Later, she lay curled beside him, his bare chest rising and falling beneath her cheek.
He felt so good. So real. She closed her eyes, trying to tattoo the moment into her memory—the morning she truly fell in love.
Not just because of the way he touched her, or how he kissed her like she was air—but because he saw her. Knew her.
But every last one of those perfect moments was shadowed by a lie.
She slipped from bed, pulled on one of his T-shirts, and walked barefoot into the kitchen.
The garden stretched out before her like something from a dream. Hydrangeas as large as her head bloomed in every shade imaginable. Roses, foxglove, lilies, and other blossoms she didn’t recognize burst from the soil in joyful disarray.
She opened the window, letting in the scent of dew and green things. And then, a solitary magpie landed on the birdfeeder in front of her.
She saluted. “Hello, Mr. Magpie. How’s your wife today?”
Behind her, came Keefe’s amused voice: “Did you just salute that magpie?” he asked on the back of a yawn.
“Yes.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Because that’s what you do. One for sorrow, right? So, you salute and ask after his wife to imply there’s a second nearby. Two for joy.”
“Didn’t know you were so superstitious,” he murmured, kissing her neck.
“I just don’t want anything ruining what we have.”
She meant it. Deep down, she knew the only thing that could ruin this was her.
“Keefe, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you?—"
“And what’s that, my beautiful darling?” he murmured against her skin.
Then the smoke alarm shrieked.
“Shit! The toast! I was trying to make you breakfast in bed!”
Keefe chuckled. “You do know smoke detectors aren’t timers, right?”
“Apparently not!”
He fanned the alarm with a towel as she opened windows. “How about I cook? What do you want—a full Irish?”
“Somehow you made that sound dirty.”
“Well, we have worked up an appetite.”
She blushed. “I’ll make coffee. I can probably manage that without burning it.”
But as smoke traveled down the hall, more alarms went off.
“Jesus, Keefe! Are you trying to burn the house down?” Sophie’s voice rang out as the front door banged open. She stopped dead in the kitchen at the sight of a half-naked woman. “Shit!”
“Oh! Hiya,” Gwen said, smiling, only mildly embarrassed.
“Who the fuck are you?” Sophie demanded.
“I’m G—Ruby. We met the other day.” Gwen held out her hand to shake in greeting. Sophie hesitated but eventually shook it.
Keefe entered the kitchen, shirtless, hair rumpled. “Hey, sis. Remember Ruby?”
Sophie stared. “Right… Yes… Of course. Ruby. Nice to see you again,” said Sophie trying not to look at the practically naked woman in the kitchen or at her brother’s shit-eating grin.
No, this wasn’t the least bit awkward—not.
“Would you excuse us a minute? I just need to borrow my brother. Be right back.” She dragged Keefe into the hall.
“Shit, Keefe. A little warning would’ve been nice. ”
“What do you want me to do, hang a sock on the door? You don’t live here anymore. What are you doing here anyway?”
She rolled her eyes. He did have a point. “I was just missing my brother so Liam and I were going to surprise you with breakfast.”
“That was nice. You should stay. We can have breakfast together and you can get to know Ruby. She probably has pants on by now.” He’d said it partly as fact and partly to bust his sister’s chops. “Where is Liam anyway?”
“He’s in the car. Had to take a quick call.” Something was different. Keefe looked… happy. Between the goofy ear-to-ear grin and the twinkle in his eye. Make that really happy. Sophie took it down a notch. “I didn’t handle that very well, did I?”
“I’ll say you didn’t. But you’re forgiven.”
“She seems nice.”
“She is. Really is. We?—”
Sophie held up her hand begging him not to finish his sentence, whatever it was. “Please! Don’t give me any details. I beg you.”
Keefe stopped talking but couldn’t stop grinning.
Now, back in the kitchen, Gwen—now clothed—was pouring a cup of coffee. “How about a coffee, Sophie? It’s fresh.”
“No, I should go. But thank you. And sorry about earlier. I was just surprised.”
“Understandable. I’d have done the same.”
Sophie nodded and just couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with Ruby for more than a second. This was just too awkward. She said goodbye again and apologized for a second time—never mind that she was looking at the floor while she said it—then quickly left.
Out at the car, Liam hung up the phone and raised a brow. “Are we not having breakfast? Jesus, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What happened in there?”
Sophie stared at the dashboard, trying to wrap her head around what she’d just witnessed. “Not a ghost. Just a naked woman. He’s in love.”
“Keefe? With who?”
“Ruby. That redhead I told you about? The one who came into the pub? She’s in there prancing around like she owns the place in nothing but a—well, never mind that. He’s in love.”
She said it like a curse. Like something she needed to scrape off her shoe.
Liam laughed. “After what, seventy-two hours? That was fast. Although, now that I think about it, that’s kind of the O’Brian way. Not one of you knows the word slow .”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“What?”
“Keefe is in love with a woman he barely knows! Do you know what that means?”
“How do you know that? Did you ask him?”
Liam already knew the answer. Keefe didn’t need to say it out loud—Sophie would know . Twins didn’t need words. Still, rule number one of being married to Sophie O’Brian: never interfere in twin business.
But in this case, he dove in anyway.
“I don’t need to ask him,” Sophie snapped. “Shit, Liam, this isn’t just a fling! He’s looking at her like she’s the answer to every question he’s ever had. And she—God knows what she wants. He’s too trusting. Too good.”
Liam put the car in reverse, easing them out of the driveway while giving her a chance to breathe. “You love your cousin Connor, right?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“And Simon?”
“Of course.”
“I’m just saying love at first sight isn’t exactly rare in your family. It’s happened before to good people. People you trust. You trust Connor, right? And Simon? Maybe Keefe deserves the same grace?”
She crossed her arms tightly and stared out the window at a hedge blooming with wild fuchsia. Her voice was quieter, but no less fierce. “It’s not just love. It’s the one. He thinks she’s it. I saw it all over his face.”
Liam reached over and laid a comforting hand on her knee.
If Keefe had really fallen—truly fallen—then Sophie would have to find a way to make peace with it. She’d protect him, as always. But if Ruby wasn’t who she claimed to be… if she so much as flinched in the wrong direction…
Well. Sophie would deal with her.
And it wouldn’t be pretty.