Page 2 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

The voice came from the bar—or rather, from behind it.

A woman, barely five-five but somehow appearing larger than life, stood with her hands planted on her hips, glaring at a red-faced delivery guy who looked about five seconds away from having a coronary incident. Her fiery auburn hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, stray curls sticking to her temple.

But even angry, anyone with eyes could see she wasstunning. A beauty with a body to match. She had tits that had the pub’s logo on it, and her jeans were molded to her, making her ass look like it could take a pounding.

“Dee, I told him, but he wouldn’t listen, so—" The dude tried to plead his case but was brutally silenced.

“You can tell your boss he can shove the whole order where the sun doesn’t shine,” she added, jabbing a finger at the poor man’s chest. “And if I see you in here again trying to pass off that muck as Irish whiskey, you’ll wish you were dealing with someone half as patient as me.Understood?”

The man nodded mutely, evidently embarrassedandterrorized, before he shuffled out of the pub, muttering something about how his boss was a feckin’ arsehole.

Oh yeah, she’d be one hell of a wild cat in bed.

I cringed at the thought. I wasn’t a horny teenager. I was a grown man of thirty-two, and I wasn’t supposed to look at women and indulge in locker room conversation, even inside my head. My Gran, may her soul rest in peace, would have my ass in a sling if she knew.

The wild cat…I meant Dee—exhaled sharply, grabbed a towel from the counter, and began wiping her hands like she hadn’t just verbally annihilated a grown man. And that was when she spotted me.

Her green eyes, sharp as broken glass, narrowed. “You’re in the wrong place,” she snapped, her accent rolling over each word like honey on a razor blade.

I raised my hands, palms up, because, for some reason, this felt like a hostage negotiation. “Uh…I think I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Paddy said?—”

Her gaze flicked to Paddy, who had just walked in behind me, rain dripping from his coat.

“You brought one of them Yanks to my place, Paddy?” She made it sound like it was a criminal offense. Then her eyes landed on the golf cap I was wearing, the one with the PGA logo embroidered across the front. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You a big golf fan or something?”

I blinked. “Is that a problem?”

She crossed her arms, leaning one hip against the bar like she was gearing up for round two of a verbal sparring match.

“He’s not one of them, Dee.” Paddy pushed me toward a bar stool. “Sit your arse down before she throws something at you.”

I wasn’t sure if I should sit because standing would make it easy to run or dodge if she did indeed throw something at me. Ireland was turning out to be a lot more dangerous than the travel blogs indicated.

“You sure about that?” She arched an eyebrow, looking down her cute little nose at me.

She had porcelain white skin, delicate, in contrast with her demeanor. She wore no makeup, none that I could detect, and her lips were soft, pillowy, pink, swollen…Angelina Jolie lips. She looked like someone who gave good head.

I mentally smacked myself for going down that path again. Twice in a span of minutes?Get a grip, Jax.

“Excuse me, who’sthem?” I asked, looking from Paddy to Dee.

“You know exactly who they are.” She gestured vaguely toward my cap. “Here to shake hands with the developers and ruin my village? Build your shiny new golf resort and call it progress?”

Her voice dripped with disdain, and I had no clue why. I felt like I’d dropped into a movie midway and was missing a few plot points.

“I checked, Dee, and he’s not one of them,” Paddy tried again.

“He’s got the look of them. Yankee. Golf shirt. Entitled. Probably thinks he’s God’s gift.”

Okay, where the fuck was this attitude coming from? And why was it turning me on?

Oh, baby, give me a chance, and I’ll show you how much of a gift I can be.

For fuck’s sake, Jax, get your head out of the gutter, will you?

“I’m Jax Caldwell,” I drawled, holding my hand out, “I will, however, respond to Yankee if that’s what you prefer.”

Dee didn’t shake my hand. Instead, she snarled, and I judiciously pulled back.

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