Page 19 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

The man was smooth. The way to my heart was by talking about my sister, fondly.

Shut up, Dee, he’s looking to get into your pants if he is, and not your heart.

“You know, Dee.” He turned to me and locked his eyes to mine. Even in the dim streetlight that spilled out from the pub, I could see he was serious. “That man didn’t strike me as someone who deserved you.”

I stared at my glass, the whiskey catching the light. “He didn’t. But that didn’t stop me from wasting nearly three years on him.”

Jax didn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue.

I sighed, leaning back against the bench. “Cillian and I grew up together. His family’s loaded, and mine…well, we weren’t. His parents never liked me—they were always a bit hoity-toity, all notions and no warmth. They thought I wasn’t good enough for him. We started seeing each other, and…it was comfortable, I suppose. Familiar.”

“And then?” Jax prompted gently.

“And then Maggie got sick.” My voice caught slightly. “I spent every waking moment either at the pub or taking care of her. Cillian didn’t like not being the center of attention. I found him fucking Aoife in his office three days after Maggie died.”

“Dee!” Jax’s voice was low, full of sorrow for me.

I shrugged, forcing a smile. “It’s ancient history now. Maggie’s gone, and so is he. Good riddance, I say.”

“But it still hurts.”

I was ready to say something flip and caustic, but instead, I spoke the truth. “Yes. Not because he broke my heart. I think I stopped loving Cillian while Maggie was sick. He was selfish and spoiled, and I saw it more clearly than ever. Still…after losing Maggie, I thought we’d find our way back. I thought we’d sort ourselves out. But when I threw his ring in his face, I realized it wasn’t heartbreak that cut the deepest—it was the loss of trust. It was knowing that while I was drowning in grief, the person I should have been able to rely on was making a mockery of me behind my back.”

“He’s a fucking fool, Dee.” Jax cupped my cheek. His hand was warm, big, comforting. I resisted the urge to stroke my face against his skin. “You’re beautiful, warm,feisty, wonderful—he was lucky to have had a chance with you and a damn fool to have squandered his good fortune.”

I swallowed, desperate to lighten the air between us. “Ah now, Jax, I already gave you my good whiskey—there’s no need to be butterin’ me up any further.”

Jax stroked my cheek, not letting me succeed in removing the tension between us. “A big fucking fool, that’s what he is.”

He dropped his hand, and we sat in silence. I finished my whiskey and thought it was the perfect excuse to get up and leave. Instead, I found myself saying, “What about you? Any Cillian’s in your closet?”

“You think I’ve got skeletons, darlin’ Dee?”

“Well, yeah,” I replied airily. “You’re cocky, rich, and handsome. Bet you’ve left a trail of broken hearts from Charleston to Dublin.”

“You think I’m handsome?” His eyes twinkled, and his dimples…aye, they should be feckin’ illegal.

“And cocky.”

He groaned. “I could say something now, but it would come off as crude, and I’d prove your point that I am indeed a cocky asshole.”

“Jax, were you goin’ to make a joke about your cock?” I teased.

He made a sound like he was being strangled. "Ah, Dee, you’re a tonic, so you are,” he said in a bad Irish accent.

“You saying I’m an astringent?”

“No, darlin’, a dose of good medicine.” There were those insidious dimples again, and that, combined with the kindness in his blue-blue eyes, was enough to make any lass’s head spin.

“I had a Cillian. Her name was Dani. We were high school sweethearts. In love. She was my first and only for a long time.”

Dani was a hussy. I was certain of it.

“What happened?” I urged.

He took a deep breath. “She wanted me to be a Caldwell. My family has some businesses, and she saw me running one of them. I saw myself swinging a golf club.” The memory appeared hard as he ran a hand through his hair. “My father disowned me, and Dani left.”

“What?” I was outraged on his behalf.

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