32. Dee
CHAPTER 32
Dee
B allybeg was a mad place on the best of days, but this? This was something else entirely.
The pub was the unofficial headquarters for Jax’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 said arse, 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 his girlfriend’s village 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.”
The interviewer became serious then. “You never talk about your personal life, yet you’re doing it now. I’m assuming this is a serious relationship.”
“Yes, I am serious about both Dee and the village of Ballybeg,” he replied cheekily.
By mid-afternoon, the village green was a hive of activity. People were everywhere, carrying signs, setting up tables, and hanging banners that read things like “SAVE BALLYBEG” and “BALLYBEG: POPULATION US, NOT A FECKIN’ RESORT!”
There were others like: “NO TO GOLF, YES TO GUINNESS!" and "RICH YANKS, GO BUILD SOMEWHERE ELSE!" (Jax took mild offense to this one.)
My favorite was: "BUILD A RESORT HERE it’s a community. It’s a home. And it’s worth fighting for. So that’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to fight for Ballybeg, for its history, for its people. And we’re not going to stop until we win.”
The crowd erupted into cheers, and I felt a lump rise in my throat as Jax stepped back.
The day was a blur of energy and noise after that. We marched through the streets, holding signs and chanting, while Finn trotted along beside us like the world’s grumpiest mascot. People took pictures, reporters showed up with cameras, and by the time the sun set, Ballybeg had made its mark.
Photos were posted on social media with the hashtag #SaveBallybeg. I was stunned to see that people around the world were talking about our little village.
By the end of the night, as we all gathered back at the pub for a celebratory pint, I felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time when it came to Ballybeg. It was hope .
As Jax and I lay in bed that night, my head resting on his chest and his arm around me, I felt the rightness of my life. I wasn’t a cuddler, even on my best day. I was the kiss goodnight and claim my space kind of person, but I didn’t feel that need with Jax. I loved being close to him. I loved falling asleep with his breath next to mine, his heartbeat steady under my cheek.
“How do you feel about renovating the farmhouse?” Jax asked out of nowhere as he idly made circles on my arm.
“What?”
“Darlin’, we can’t live here…not in the long term.”
I rose on my elbows to look at him. “What are you on about, Jax Caldwell?”
“I love how you say my full name when you’re annoyed.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jax,” I warned.
“Just sayin’ that if we’re living together, which we are, we need a place, and since you love your farmhouse, let’s work on it and get it fixed up.”
It was a mess and needed a whole lot of TLC.
“It’s going to be expensive and?—”
“And we have the money,” he interrupted.
I sighed. “Jax, we’re not even?—”
“We can’t keep having this same discussion, Dee,” he cut me off. “And you’re seriously pissing me off by bringing it up all the time. If you don’t want to live on the farm, that’s fine; we’ll find another place. But what’s not negotiable is us living together, and I want a big enough place so that when you get pregnant, we’ll be able to set up a nursery.”
I felt tears fill my eyes.
“Christ, what’s wrong?” Jax sat up and hauled me up with him. “Hey, look, you can keep arguing about the money thing, okay? Don’t cry.” A tear rolled down my cheek. “Fuck. No, no. There’s no crying after monkey sex.”
I sniffled. “You’re like the best thing that ever happened to me; you know that?”
“Of course I do. I’m usually the best thing that happens to all the people I meet,” he replied arrogantly.
“I’m still gonna cry,” I told him, “I’m feeling all…emotional.”
“No,” he said emphatically. “Don’t make me tickle you, Dee, ‘cause I’ll do it.”
I gaped at him, and then, when one of his hands came to my waist, I flinched and rolled away from him. “Stop it.”
“You stop crying then.”
“I can’t believe….” He had his fingers crawling around my waist, and I squealed. “Jax, cut it out.”
He didn’t listen, obviously, and soon I was laughing hard.
Right before I let sleep claim me, I told Jax, “Sure, let’s renovate the farmhouse.”
“Good girl.” He kissed my hair, and I fell asleep smiling because I was happy.