Page 83 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

“It’s not myanything. And what can I say? Some of us have ambition.”

“Is that what you call it?” I arched an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like screwing people over.”

His smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he spread his arms wide as if he were making a statement. “It’s called business. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand plenty,” I mocked. “And I’m telling you right now—stay the hell away from Ballybeg.”

Cillian laughed outright at that, the sound grating on my nerves. “And what are you going to do, golf me into submission?”

“I’m giving you fair warning that once this deal falls apart, which it will, I’ll make sure your reputation is so fucking ruined that you won’t be able to sell a patch of grass to a man with a goat.”

Cillian’s smirk faltered, and I pressed on.

“You think you’re untouchable, but I’ve got contacts,arsehole—and by the time I’m done, you’ll be lucky if you’re flogging parking spaces in the arse end of nowhere.”

On that note, feeling rather pleased with myself, I walked into the jewelry store and bought my future wife’s engagement ring and some other jewelry that I knew would look amazing on her.

CHAPTER32

Dee

Ballybeg was a mad place on the best of days, but this? This was something else entirely.

The pub was the unofficial headquarters forJax’s Plan, and by the time I walked in that morning, it looked like the Gallagher barn after a storm. Tables were shoved together and covered in papers, laptops, and cups of tea. Mrs. Nolan was barking orders at Seamus, who was struggling to untangle a mess of wires for the sound system. Ronan was in the corner with Liam Ryan, debating whether they had enough paint for the banners, while Jax leaned against the bar, looking far too relaxed for someone orchestrating a borderline revolution.

I looked at Jax. “This looks like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“It’s organized chaos,” he replied as he leaned over to kiss me softly.

“Organized, my arse,” I muttered.

“You have a gorgeous and juicy arse, darlin’ Dee.” He patted saidarse,and I growled at him.

“Hands to yourself, Yank.”

“You let Liam Murphy pinch your arse, and I can’t even pat it?” he challenged.

“I don’t let Liam do anything,” I ground out. “He’s just an eejit who doesn’t listen, and since he’s dying, he knows I won’t break his hand.”

“And since you love me, you won’t break mine.” He slid an arm around me and kissed my hair.

The plan was ambitious, to say the least. We were going to stage a protest—a big, loud, unapologetic protest that would draw attention from every corner of the county, maybe even the country. There would be banners, speeches, music, and enough noise to wake the dead.

I’d contacted various villages in County Clare thanks to Jax’s new friend Fiona, who would also have their own protests and parades in support of Ballybeg.

If everything went according to plan, according to Jax, the developers would be left scrambling to salvage their image. I wasn’t so sure. These bastards didn’t care about things like reputation or morality, now did they?

Things were heating up in the media.

Jax’s interview on ESPN got a lot of attention—especially when he talked about how hisgirlfriend’svillage was in fear of being sucked dry by greedy land developers.

“Ballybeg sounds like a very special place,” the interviewer said.

“It is,” Jax replied with his heart in his eyes.

“And so is Dee Gallagher, from the way you talk about her.”

“She certainly is.”

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