Page 95 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

“That’s not true. They’re here because of you.”

“They’re here because ofus.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Now stop worrying and enjoy it. You’ve earned it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Alright. But if Seamus drives the cart into the pond, you’re dealing with it.”

“I think that’s Ronan’s problem.” He then tilted his head. “I know it fucks up the cart and all that, but you can’t put a price on the entertainment value of Seamus screaming ‘Yippee ki yay, motherfucker’as he takes on the pond.”

Laughter bubbled inside me and spilled out. And just like that, Jax Caldwell did what he was so good at doing, which was making me feel better.

* * *

My fears had been unfounded.

By midday, the course was buzzing with activity. Players were scattered across the greens, laughing and cheering as they teed off. Volunteers from the village manned refreshment stations, serving tea and sandwiches to anyone who wandered past. Geraldine was playing Queen with Poppy in her arms.

When I met Jax’s friends, they weren’t Cormac the Barber or Cadhla the Baker—oh no, these were people I’d seen on television. After all, they were professional athletes. They were a mix of accents and energy, each somehow larger than life and completely down-to-earth.

“Dee Gallagher,” one of them said, shaking my hand with a grin. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with sharp blue eyes that reminded me a bit of Jax. He had a charming smile and a Nordic accent. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All lies, I’m sure.” I forced myself to smile through my nerves. I knew who this was. Nikolai Andersen, the Danish football star who played for FCK and the Danish national team. I knew my football, I did. This was the friend whose Porsche Jax had been driving when he ended up crashing into my life.

“Jax doesn’t lie,” he said with confidence.

“That’s true,” I agreed.

We ended up talking quite a bit. I liked him and it was obvious he and Jax had an easy friendship.

“You’ve got a good thing going here.” He glanced over the course. “Ballybeg is beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I puffed up with pride. “It’s been a lot of work, but the village has really come together to make this happen.”

His smile widened, and he nodded toward Jax, who was speaking with a tennis player who I think had won the American Open last year. How was this craziness my life?

“Jax has been praising your village nonstop. It’s clear how much it means to him.”

“I’m genuinely amazed at how all of this came around. Jax is a force to reckon with.”

“That’s what he says about you,” Nikolai teased before his expression became thoughtful. “If you ever need someone to help spread the word—or kick a football around for a fundraiser—let me know.”

“I will,” I said, genuinely touched by the offer.

By the time the last group finished their round and the auction started, my nerves had disappeared entirely. The atmosphere was electric—laughter and applause filling the air as people bid on everything from signed golf clubs to bottles of Aislinn’s homemade jam.

Jax stood beside me, his arm wrapped around my waist, grinning like he’d just won the PGA all over again.

“We did it.” I leaned into him.

“You did it,” he corrected, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I just showed up and looked pretty.”

“And you are so very pretty.”

He chuckled, tightening his hold on me. “You wanna get naked with me since I’m so pretty?”

“Sure, let’s get rid of all these A-list celebrities…well…all but one.”

“Me, right?”

“Well, that Danish football guy is pretty hot,” I teased.

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