Page 29 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

I tilted my head. “And what do I want, darlin’ Dee?”

She met my gaze, her expression somber. “Whatever it is you’re looking for, Jax…I can’t give it to you.” Her voice was laced with quiet finality, which saddened me more than I thought possible.

CHAPTER10

Dee

“Dee, I swear to God, if you think I’m payin’ for that busted keg, you’ve another thing comin’!”

I groaned. Of course, it was Martin Glancy, Ballybeg’s walking complaint department and Ballybeg’s most mediocre (alas, only) beer delivery man.

Setting the pint I’d just pulled for Liam in front of him, I turned to face Martin, already regretting everything that was about to take place.

“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” I hissed. “And I don’t care whatyouthink. You delivered the keg; it’s faulty, so it’syourproblem.”

Actually, it wasmyproblem! Hell, I needed vendors and deliverymen I could rely on, or I was screwed.

“It’s not faulty! You must’ve tapped it wrong!” Martin bellowed, gesturing wildly, overreacting like I’d not insulted his dumb keg but his entire family.

“Tapped it wrong?” I scoffed. “This isn’t amateur hour. I’ve been tapping kegs since before you learned how to drive your bloody van!”

He went redder, spluttering as the entire pub tuned in to watch. Ballybeg loved a spectacle, especially when it involved me losing my temper.

I caught Jax turning on his stool, curious. “What’s going on?” he asked Ronan, who was leaning against the bar, looking entirely too amused.

“Keg’s busted.” Ronan shrugged lazily. “This happens at least once a feckin’ month. Dee’s sorting it. Martin’s just making it harder for himself,as usual.”

“You think she needs help?”

I glared at Jax, and Ronan snorted. “You sit right on down, Yank, unless you’ve got a death wish.”

Ignoring them both, I turned back to Martin, jabbing my finger at him. “You’re replacing the keg, Martin Glancy. Either you swap it out, or I’ll have every Guinness drinker in this village show up at your house and demand satisfaction, including your da.”

“You wouldn’t,” he muttered, but his confidence was cracking.

Martin Glancy Senior was a regularandcontinued to intimidate his twenty-eight-year-old son. Nobody said he was a good parent.

“You wanna test me?” I arched an eyebrow in challenge.

Before Martin could dig himself any deeper, Jax appeared at my side, hands in his pockets, wearing that infuriatingly casual grin. “Everything alright here?” he asked, not to rescue me, but just enough to let Martin know I wasn’t alone in this. I could tell the difference, and even though I wanted to tell him to mind his business, I liked that he’d made the effort.

“Stay the feck out of it, Yank,” someone called.

“Yeah, we’re having a laugh here,” another said.

I glared at the two offending patrons who were sitting at a table. “You ain’t gonna be laughing when I can’t serve you your pint of Guinness, not todayortomorrow.”

They quietly went back to their pints and card game.

Jax stood, his hands tucked in his pockets, trying his best not to laugh. Since this happened on the regular with Martin, there was some humor to be had, sure, but if I didn’t have a fresh keg here before the evening rush in an hour, there’d be ructions in Ballybeg fierce enough to wake the dead.

“Martin, my man,” Jax said softly and respectfully. “Do you want to keep arguing, or do you want to make some money tonight? “

“Jax,” I warned.

He winked at me. I’d been winked at by Jax more in the past three weeks than in the past three years by anyone.

Martin raised his chin. “Say what you got to say, Yank.”

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