I frowned. “How?”
“By messy, I mean to put public pressure on the county.” His blue eyes were full of mischief and glee. “The council’s already made their decision, but that doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. If we can make enough noise—get people talking about what the resort will do to Ballybeg, how it’ll destroy the village’s character and hurt the locals—we can push the council to reconsider.”
“Jax, we’ve tried that,” I protested, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “We’ve written letters, we’ve gone to meetings?—”
“Not like this,” he interrupted. “I’m talking about going bigger. Social media, local news, and even international coverage, if we can get it. People love stories about small communities standing up to big corporations. We can turn Ballybeg into a symbol of what’s worth fighting for.”
“How will we do that? No one cares about Ballybeg.”
“They will when a two-time PGL Golf Champion asks them to save his girlfriend’s village.”
I felt everything inside me seize into a painful ball. “But you don’t ever talk to the media about your personal life.”
He was militant about it. I knew that. Hell, if you did even a little bit of research on him, you’d know that.
He smiled, stroked my cheek withhis finger, and, with love shining in his eyes, floored me by saying, “This is too important.”
“And you don’t think bringing the media here could ruin Ballybeg? Make it the tourist trap we’re afraid that it’ll turn into when those gobshites turn my pub into a parking lot.”
“It could,” he admitted. “But we’ll control the narrative. We’re not inviting the paparazzi in to turn this into a circus. We’re using the media to shine a light on what’s happening here. It’s a risk, I know. But it’s better than sitting back and letting the developers win without a fight.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, the weight of his words pressing down on me. “And what happens if the council doesn’t budge?”
“That’s where Plan B comes in.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Plan B?”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “We buy up land, strategically.”
I blinked, my stomach dropping. “Jax, I couldn’t even pay the taxes on my land until you helped. How the hell are we supposed to buy anything?”
“That’s whereIcome in.”
I stared at him. “Jax, no. You’ve already done enough—more than enough. I can’t let you?—”
“Dee, this is about saving Ballybeg,” he cut me off. “If the developers get their hands on this village, they’lldestroy it. But if we can help pay everyone’s taxes—and even buy up any land we can that they’re relying on for the resort—they won’t be able to build. It’s as simple as that.”
“It’s not simple.” I was freaking out. “You’re talking about spending God knows how much money on a place you don’t even belong to. Why would you do that?”
“To repeat myself because I love you. And you love this village, it’s your home. I’m not going to stand by and watch it get destroyed when I can do something about it.”
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
Who the hell was this man, and what had I done in a previous life to have him lay down his life and his money for me?
“Jax Caldwell, you’ve earned yourself the nastiest, dirtiest blowjob known to man,” I promised.
“Argh, can you not talk about blowjobs?” This came from Ronan, who stuck his head out from the kitchen. “You’re like a sister, and I don’t need that mental image, you understand?”
I flipped him off. “Then stop eavesdropping.”
“I wasn’t dropping no eaves.” Ronan winked at me and came into the bar, wiping his hands on the towel he kept on his shoulder while he cooked. “You gonna pay everyone’s taxes, Jax?”
“I am,” Jax confirmed. “I spoke to Paddy and Mickey, and they’re not able to paytheir land taxes because Cillian increased the land value assessment to the point that it’s unaffordable.”
“It’s a waste of your money,” I whispered.
“Dee, it’s not. I have way too much of it, and I can’t imagine a better way of using it. And if you’re worried about how much we’ll have once you marry me, I can assure you, we’re not running out for a few generations to come.”
