Page 88 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

That tiny, two-letter word had never meant so much to me. No resort. No destruction of our village. And now, with the revenue office sniffing around to investigate how Cillian O’Farrell had manipulated our property taxes, Ballybeg could breathe again.

The news had gone through the village like hot whiskey on a cold night: The Banshee’s Rest was packed.

I’d never seen it so full, not even on St. Paddy’s Day. The doors were wide open to let the fresh spring air in. The tables were loaded with food—we’d decided on going buffet for the evening. Ronan had cooked up his best spring lamb stew, and Cadhla had made five different kinds of cakes.

Someone had even brought in a fiddle, and Seamus waspoorlyplaying tunes in the corner while a few couples tried their hand at dancing on the stone floor.

“Dee, love, this is the best party ever.” Liam Murphy tipped his pint toward me as he leaned on the bar. He looked frailer than ever, but his grin was wide enough to split his face.

I smirked. “You say that every time you have a pint in your hand, Liam.”

“And I mean it every time,” he shot back, winking.

There was a lightness in the air, and it was because we’d come together, fought like hell, and won. When I visited Maggie, I told her about all that had happened and how I wasn’t the Gallagher who’d lost the pub and farm.

“I think I’ve met the man I’m going to marry.” I touched her headstone. “Can you believe it?”

I watched the people of Ballybeg as I pulled pints.

Jax was dancing with little Fiadh on his toes and my heart filled with happiness. He’d make a good father.

We were planning on going to Charleston in a few months. He wanted me to meet some of his friends, and even though he knew I’d dislike them, he wanted me to meet his parents and brothers.

“Dee, Seamus needs to do something about Fergus,” Geraldine complained as she held Poppy, who was wearing a pink bow. “You’ve got to talk to him.”

“Fergus isn’t botherin’ anyone,” Seamus protested.

“Go away, both of you, and leave me the feck alone foronenight,” I told them sternly.

By the time the food had been eaten, most of us were tipsy and singing tunelessly. Jax was at a table in the back. When our eyes met, he crooked a finger, beckoning me over. I rolled my eyes but went to him anyway because, God help me, I couldn’t resist that man.

“You look beautiful.”

“Of course I do.” I winked at him. “I got this dress from a fancy store in Ennis.”

He put his hands on my hips and drew me close to him. “It’s not the dress, Dee. It’s you.”

“You’re laying it on thick tonight, Yank.”

He chuckled, standing and offering me his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here for a bit.”

We stepped outside into the cool spring air, the sounds of the pub muffled behind us. The stars were out, scattered like diamonds across the inky sky, and the bench by the stone wall looked as inviting as ever.

He led me there, his hand warm and steady around mine. When we sat down, he pulled me close, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. For a long moment, we just sat there in silence, the quiet of the night wrapping around us like a blanket.

“You did it,” he said finally, his voice soft.

I shook my head. “Wedid it.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Fair enough. But you’re the one who kept this place together, Dee. You’re the heart of Ballybeg.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He tipped my chin up, his blue eyes locking on mine. “Dee, darlin’, you’ll never have to do anything without me ever again.”

I shrugged. “I heard you talking to Brad. You’ve got to leave soon.”

“The championships are starting, and I need to train.”

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