Page 62 of The Renegade Billionaire

“How’d he get the jump on ya? That jackalope hasn’t been sober since he crawled home again.”

Braxton leans back into the sofa and crosses his arms behind his head. How can he look so…just…at home here? “I had more important things to protect than my ugly mug, Pops.”

My grandfather harrumphs in victory. “That’s right. And don’t you forget it. This staying out all night ain’t good for her reputation though. Whatcha going to do about that?”

Swinging my arms wildly in the air, I step in front of them both.

“I swear to all things holy, Pops. I’m not a teenager, and this is not the 1950s. The only one who should be worrying about my reputation is me. I’m going to start breakfast.”

Halfway to the kitchen, I spin back around and point a finger at my grandfather.

“What are your plans today, old man?” I narrow my gaze at the oldest child Happiness, Georgia has ever seen.

Pops tries to move me along with a flick of his hand. “I’m not your child, Madi. Don’t you go worrying about me.”

“Pops!”

“Fine.” He huffs. “The boy and I have a lunch date at the diner, and then we’re gonna check out the Chug. Haven’t been there in a while, and I want to catch up on things.”

My shoulders inch toward my ears with guilt, and the sass I’d been wielding escapes on a wheeze. “I know I haven’t had asmuch free time to take you to all your activities, but we really do have a budget to stick to.”

He ignores me as he always does when I attempt to talk about our finances.

“Patty’s fundraiser at the barn is tomorrow night,” he says. “Moose is takin’ me, but the boy here, he’s going to help us get set up today.”

Braxton doesn’t even flinch. It’s as though he couldn’t care less that he’s become my grandfather’s gopher. In fact, he nods as if he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Pops, Braxton’s knuckles are all cut up from whatever the heck you had him helping with yesterday. He isn’t your handyman or your rideshare driver. He has actual work he needs to do.” Turning to him, I frown. “Don’t you?”

“I have some phone calls to make today, but I’ve got time to be Pops’ steward.”

“You’re not helping,” I groan.

“He is. Now, do you want to talk about why you were out all night with the boy, or do you want to get on with our day?”

“Pops, it’s not like that,” Braxton says gently.

“Like what?” I ask, spinning on him. Why is it so easy to confront this man when I can’t even tell my lifelong best friends that I don’t want to go out for a stinking drink?

What am I doing? I’m losing my dang mind,that’swhat I’m doing.

Braxton’s jaw jumps, and whatever he’s thinking has his irises shifting to a darker shade of amber.

“I didn’t do anything to disrespect her honor, Pops. I swear to you.” He’s speaking to my grandfather, but his gaze is saying something completely different to me. Something like,I didn’t disrespect her honor, but I sure as hell wanted to.

He raises a brow in my direction, and my cheeks get hot and tingly.

“Madison showed me the Georgia moon, and she fell asleep trying to get me to count shooting stars. She’s been working so hard I didn’t have the heart to wake her.”

“Mm-hmm,” Pops says noncommittally. “And I s’pose you were watching for bears too.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ugh.” The urge to stomp my feet in frustration is only dimmed when Braxton pulls his phone out of his pocket, and I see his face fall.

“It’s three in the morning in California. I’m sorry, I have to…” He answers the call. “Grey? What’s wrong?”

Pops and I exchange a worried expression. I don’t know how much Braxton has shared with Pops about his life in California—in fact, I still don’t know much, but I do know that Grey is his family, and judging by the way Pops sits his chair upright and leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, he knows it too.