Page 27 of The Renegade Billionaire

“My treat,” he says as he walks out the door, and I immediately spin on my grandfather.

“Pops. What are you thinking? You know we can’t afford all this stuff.” I point to the sheetrock. “And I need a warning before you invite the town over. We can’t afford to be the local pub right now either. Why did you invite the Collins brothers, your poker pals,andCian over for dinner?”

Instead of answering, he pulls me in for a hug. We stand there for a long moment, enough that my racing heart slows, and the anger or anxiety that was tightening my muscles relaxes. Then he kisses the side of my head before releasing me.

As he’s walking back out to his friends, he drops the next bomb on me. “We’re all right, Mads. That boy just paid for a six-month stay. In full.”

The girls and I all spin to face each other. I can see Savvy working the numbers in her head, while Clover is most likely evaluating the emotional toll it will take on me having him in my space for—for six months. Elle has found a bag of cookies and sits at the island, downing two at a time while crumbs land on her belly.

“That’s…thirty-one thousand dollars, Madi. Thirty-one thousand.” Savvy’s voice rises along with my blood pressure.

“Thirty-six even,” Pops corrects. “He insisted on two hundred a night because we’re including meals.” When thekitchen door snaps shut behind him, I return my shocked and bewildered gaze to my girls.

“Something is definitely wrong with him,” Savvy mutters.

“You could put a down payment on a condo or something for that amount. Well, almost.” Clover sounds as confused as I am.

“Who pays thirty-six thousand dollars to stay in a run-down inn in the middle of nowhere, Georgia?” I ask.

“Someone with a lot of secrets, that’s who.” I can almost see Clover’s mind twisting this into a new thriller novel in her mind.

“Well, if he’s got them, we’ll find them,” Elle vows through a mouthful of chocolate chips. Where the hell did those come from?

“Let’s Google him.” Savvy’s already pulling out her phone.

“Sav, you know how I feel about that.” I groan. When you’ve been the victim of cyberbullying, you try your hardest not to engage in any kind of snooping or clickbait.

But when my friends hover around Elle, staring at Savvy’s phone, I watch their expressions go from suspicious and curious to confused and back to suspicious.

“There’s not much about him online,” Savvy says with her face turned down into a frown. “He doesn’t even really have a current social media presence. It’s all from high school and college. Who doesn’t have social media these days?” she mutters. Her frown deepens the more she scrolls.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation,” Elle says cheerily. “There’s no such thing as secrets in Happiness. He’ll find that out one way or another. Come on, Mads. Let’s finish this up. The sooner we serve it, the sooner the night will end.”

“Maybe.” Clover is wearing her thinking expression, with her brows furrowed and her bottom lip pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “What?” she asks when she finds us staring at her. “Brax is getting beer and wine, and Pops hasn’t had a guy’s night in months. This could be a long night.”

I groan because she’s one hundred percent correct. “Please pour me a glass of Sunny’s.” It’s the cheapest wine in town, and I don’t even care about the headache it’ll bring me tomorrow. Anything to get me through the next couple of hours.

But even as I place the pies in the oven, my mind is screamingthirty-six thousand dollars.

Who can afford to do that?

And why is he spending it here?

7

BRAXTON

Never in all mylife have I experienced a beer run that was so unrelated to beer. I’m sitting in Madison’s driveway now, trying to process it before I go inside.

I need a few damn minutes to figure out what the hell happened.

My head is still in my palms when there’s a light knock on the truck window.

I’m not sure I have enough energy to meet more new people, but reluctantly, I lift my head. Nope, scratch that—I’m up for anything.

Madison stands on the other side of the glass. She’s wearing an uneasy smile, but there’s something in her worried expression and pinched brows that has me wanting to know…everything.

She makes a rolling motion with her hand, and internally I groan while I do as she asks. It only took me an embarrassing few seconds to realize that it is, in fact, an actual crank to roll the window down.