Page 10 of The Renegade Billionaire

His gaze jumps to mine, and for the first time, I get the full experience that is his face in the sunlight—because it is an experience.

Oh, crap. He’s more than handsome. He’s freaking devastatingly beautiful. And then he goes and smiles again. Why the heck is he so happy?

“No thanks, Madison. I’ve got it covered.”

I’m thankful and perturbed that he didn’t accept my ride, but I walk down the steps to my car with a generic expression saved for strangers and police officers.

“Okay. Have a good day. I’ll be back to make dinner around six.”

He nods and waves as I back out of the driveway, feeling more unsettled than I have in a very long time.

3

BRAXTON

The scentof dirt permeates everything.

“Are you all right? You haven’t answered your phone for three fucking hours,” Greyson mutters.

I glance up at the sky and instantly regret it. It’s so damn hot that when I tilt my head, sweat rolls down the back of my neck. Even in the fall, it’s hot as balls here, a swampy heat I don’t believe I’d ever get used to.

“I spoke to you when I landed last night,Dad. I was exhausted and…” Images from my encounter this morning flash across my mind. “Sleeping. Then I spent the morning acclimating to Happiness, otherwise known as the devil’s asshole. Do you know that it takes two point five seconds before you sweat so much you need another shower? Two point five seconds outside. That’s it. I timed it this morning.”

His chuckle is comforting. “And where are you now?” he asks.

“Is that Braxton? Put him on the phone,” my mother demands. He must already be at the office because she hasn’t set foot in Ace’s home—our home—for years.

“No, it’s my food delivery order,” Grey says flatly. “I told you, I haven’t heard from Braxton since he followed the rules of the will and took off immediately.”

This makes me chuckle. Only Grey would dare speak to my mother that way, and it’s only because he knows a lot of dirt on her. He has an uncanny ability to learn and retain gossip.

“So.” He drags out the word, and I know he’s speaking to me again, then I hear the click of a door and his voice echoes as though he’s locked himself in a restroom.

“I used the Discreet Daily Deeds credit card and checked into the inn using my middle name. BraxtonMitchellslept like the dead, by the way, then I woke up to an interesting show, and stupidly walked three miles in armpit-sweaty air and ended up…” I glance around at my surroundings. “Here.” The air is so thick, I think I can taste the dirt. A faint breeze kicks up a dust storm that gets lodged in my nostrils and throat.

“And where is that?” He’s full on laughing now. “Do you even know?”

The sign over the falling-down garage says Blinky’s Used Car Sales. When I googled the closest car dealership, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it was within walking distance of the inn and the rideshare app had shown no available drivers for my area.

My thoughts immediately splinter, visions of the inn owner’s granddaughter filling my mind, and now I’m blinking as I imagine Blinky would do. There’s not even any dust to blame.

“Some place called Blinky’s.” I swipe at the sweat on my neck with my free hand.

I hear Grey clicking away on his phone, and then all falls silent. Even though it’s mid-morning, the lampposts shaded by a huge tree are flickering. It’s eerie as fuck out here and feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere—the chain-link fence trapping me in doesn’t help either.

The closest I’ve come to roughing it was with what my sister called glamping during her outdoorsy phase, when she thought she’d become a famous travel influencer, before I found out they were all running out of their trust funds but expecting me to support them. It was the only reason I’d been invited in the first place—to pay.

Familial manipulation is a special kind of hell.

“You’re…” Grey trails off, his voice sounding tinny and far away. “That’s a used car dealership. Did you know Happiness has less than five thousand occupants?” he whispers. “When the hell would Ace have been there?”

“No idea.”

“What’s it like?”

Madison’s face interrupts my train of thought. “Different.”

He laughs. “Well, that tracks.” He continues typing on his phone, and the click, click, click is oddly comforting. “Blinky’s is…something else. That’s where you’re going to buy a car? The place doesn’t even have a website.”