“But you believe it.”
“I do,” I murmured.
I thought he’d kiss me then.
And he did—on my nose.
“You’re very beautiful, very charming, intelligent, and….” Jax’s blue eyes were intense, bold, and bluer. “I’m getting an inferiority complex here, darlin’ Dee, ‘cause I think you’re perfect.”
I snorted and stepped away. “Perfect, I’m not, Jax,” I warned him. “I’ve enough flaws to fill a book, and baggage to match.”
He stepped forward, closing the gap, his face so near I could feel the warmth of his breath and catch the hint of his cologne. “Who doesn’t? It isn’t our baggage that defines us, Dee, but how we carry it. You carry it with grace.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but his look, the one that felt like he was peeling back a layer of mine I hadn’t meant to show, left me exposed.
“Come on.” I turned away before I took an irrevocably stupid step—before he could dig any deeper inside of me.
To give him credit, Jax didn’t push.
He was a pleasant companion who knew when to talk and when to be silent. As we got closer to the pub, he brought up the golf resort, and just like that, my back went up. It shouldn’t have. He was merely asking questions, but it did.
“About this golf resort…,” Jax remarked, his voice casual.
I stiffened immediately. “What about it?”
“Why don’t you want it here? Wouldn’t it help the village economically?”
I gritted my teeth. Money. That’s all these men thought about, men like Cillian, men like Jax. Disappointment was a spear in my heart. “Sure, it brings in money, but it changes everything, doesn’t it?”
“Change isn’t always bad, Dee.” His voice was soft, cajoling.
I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him. “Who have you been talking to? Your goodpal, Cillian O’Farrell? Did he give you a piece of the soul of Ballybeg to convince me to sell my land? To help him get the county council’s vote?”
Jax looked like I struck him physically. “Whoa, Dee! Where the fuck did that come from?”
“Oh, you think I’ve not heard it all before.” I made a face. “Dee, it’s not the worst idea, lass. The pub’s struggling, and a resort would do wonders, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t do wonders, Jax; it would take away what makes us…well, us. Do you think paving over our fields and turning Ballybeg into a playground for rich tourists would save the pub? Can’t you see how that will kill the village? Or are you so blinded by the desire for money?”
I was storming past him when he grabbed my arm and swung me around.
“Let me go,” I thundered.
“No,” he said simply, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into him.
The balls on this lad.
“I asked a question, that’s all. I have a lot of money, and I don’t need any more, not from some golf resort development project. That isn’t the kind of money that would add to my fortune.”
The nerve of this lad.
“Oh, you’re saying you’re so feckin’ rich this is peanuts for you.”
I tried to wriggle away from him, but he wouldn’t let me go. It annoyed me further that he looked amused. Was he making fun of me?The arsehole.
“Darlin’ Dee, yes, it would be peanuts, so when I tell you I’m just askin’ questions, that’s all I’m doing. I’m not interested in making any kind of money here.”
“Then what the hell are you interested in?” I gritted out.
“You.”
