Page 54 of The Renegade Billionaire

“I have somewhere I want to show you, and it’s still warm enough out to do it. Another month or so and it’ll be too cold, at least for me.” My voice quivers in anticipation. “It’s my favorite place in all of Happiness.”

The energy in the cab of this truck is incandescent. Even the windows are beginning to fog up, casting the streetlamps in a twinkling haze, but finally, he lets go of my wrist and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I think I’d very much like to see all your favorite places, sunshine.”

“Sunshine, huh? I shudder to think what you’ll call me when my clouds roll in.”

He puts the truck into reverse but leaves his arm resting on my thigh and his hand on my knee.

“Does that happen often?”

I don’t want to talk about my fears—and that’s all that seems to roll around in my mind these days, so I deliver directions instead. “Head toward the hardware store and take the second right.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He squeezes my knee, and then his thumb taps against my skin in time with the song on the radio as if he and I are the most natural thing in the world.

And sitting here, this way, with him, we just might be.

Braxton turnshis head to smirk at me. “This is where you wanted to take me?”

I glance through the windshield to the vast emptiness below us and shrug. There’s only one other vehicle up here, and I know their mamas would flip out.

“Madison, is this where the locals go to make out?” he asks in mock outrage. At least I hope it’s mock, because if he’s truly unhappy, I’m going to feign a horrible, debilitating illness until he leaves.

I scoff as if he didn’t just call me out. “If you’re sixteen, maybe. But I come here for the stars. There’s no light pollution up here. We can see everything, so back this truck up and let’s go.”

“Back it up?”

I nod, feeling lighter than air. “Yes, we have to get in the bed of the truck to look up at them, obviously.”

His wide, uninhibited grin should make the cover for the sexiest man alive. “Obviously,” he teases, then performs a perfect three-point turn until the tailgate is a few feet from the safety wall the mayor installed years ago.

Braxton turns off the truck and removes the keys.

“Come on, get out. You’re going to love it.” I playfully nudge his side with my elbow. Not that I moved him even an inch. The guy is a wall of muscle. I bet he doesn’t even have an ounce of body fat. Jerk.

With raised brows, he opens his door, climbs out, and offers me a hand. It was never a question that I’d follow him out his side.

“Now what?” he asks, closing the door behind me.

My back is pressed to the truck, and he hovers over me, so close our thighs are touching. I lift a hand to his chest and press. He backs up at my unspoken request, and I turn to peer into his back seat.

“Oh, Braxton,” I chide. “Old Fender here hasn’t been outfitted for small-town life yet.”

He presses into my back, cups his hands around his face, and peers through the glass over my head.

“What am I supposed to have back there?”

“A blanket, first aid kit, snacks. You always carry snacks. If nothing else, you can toss them to a black bear and make a run for it.”

I turn slowly, but his hands stay pressed to the truck on either side of me. “You get a lot of black bears around here?”

His voice is low, controlled, hungry.

I nod despite being full of crap. “We could. They’re in the mountains, and even Google says they could be in southeast Georgia.”

Braxton leans down, his words hot against my ear. “Have you seen any?”

“N-no,” I stammer. I’m pretty dang sure he just inhaled my hair. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not here.”