Page 69 of The Renegade Billionaire
“Yeah, but what’s with the DDD? That’s fecking weird.”
“No, it’s not.” I tug on the collar of my shirt. “It’s…listen. I don’t know what I’m doing here. After my grandfather passed away, his attorney handed me a postcard of the inn. On the back, he’d told me to go find my happy, and I’m trying, but it’s also the first time people don’t treat me as though I’m the bank. Does that make any sense at all?”
Pops pats me on the back. “You’re a good kid, boy.”
Freakingboy. “Pops, do you know that I’m thirty years old? I haven’t been a boy in years.”
“You’re a boy until you prove your salt. But your secret is safe with us, right, Cian?”
Cian nods but doesn’t look happy about it. “What are you going to tell Madi? You haven’t exactly been sly around here, you know. People don’t just drop the kind of money you have to stay at the Hideaway.”
The deed in my hand weighs me down much more than a piece of paper should. “I did that before I knew I owned the damn place.”
“I’m still trying to figure out why you did. What did you think you were getting from any of this? Because I have to tell ya, if you hurt Madi, I will fecking skin ya alive, you hear me?”
“Yeah, I got it. And I wish I knew. But I don’t know what to tell you other than I feel alive when I’m here. I don’t have to hide or pretend to be someone I’m not. I’ve never had that before.”
Cian nods, then raises his brows and gestures at the deed.
“So, what are we going to do?” he asks.
“Easy, we’re going to tell Madi she has a new business partner.” Pops says it so fucking merrily that a stranger looking in would think this was his plan all along.
“You’re what?” Cian chokes on his words. “Just like that? You’re going to drop this on her? This is her dream, Pops. Her life.”
“It ain’t like the boy’s a stranger—not really. Madi and I owned the inn fifty-fifty. I only sold Ace forty percent, that way she maintains control of all the decisions.”
Holding up my hands in surrender, I inch closer to the door. “I’m going to gift it back to her.”
“Nope, ya can’t do that. It’s all in the contract Ace’s lawyer drew up. Ya have to get the inn back to fighting shape, then it has to turn a profit for three full years before you can even think about dumping it.”
My chin drops to my chest. “What were you two troublemakers scheming up here, Pops? That’s not a sound business deal in any way you look at it.”
“Well, you already made a deal to dump a shit ton of money into the place. I guess it would go over better if you were an owner. A silent owner,” Cian’s tone leaves no roomfor argument, but I meant what I said—I’m not looking to take Madison’s inn away from her.
“All settled then,” Pops says, edging past me toward the shed door. “Now all you got to do is tell Madi.”
The tension in my neck crawls up into my forehead. “Me? Why do I have to tell her?”
Cian belly laughs at my side, then claps my shoulder a little too forcefully, and I hitch forward. “That man has nine lives and then some. If you thought for a minute he was going to face Madi’s wrath over this, well, then you’ve still got some learning to do here in Happiness.”
I snap my mouth shut, but not before a grin pokes through.
“I don’t know why Pops has taken such a liking to you, Brax, and it’s not my place to question it, but what is my place is protecting Madi. She’s been like a sister to me for half my life, and she doesn’t deserve the shit she’s been dealt. So I’m going to tell you now not to hurt her. And listen when I say that, because if you do hurt her, you’ll never see me coming.”
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
He stops and scans me head to toe, but when he meets my gaze, I find a kindred spirit who is ruled by his protective instincts. “I hope not, Brax. I don’t hate ya, so it would be a real bitch to have to kill you.” He starts walking again, then calls over his shoulder, “Oh, and a piece of advice?”
“What’s that?”
“If you’re going to spread good deeds in town and want to stay anonymous, stop dropping off twenty-thousand-dollar checks with your signature on them, you fecking boob.”
A bark of laughter rips through me. The neighboring town was having a fundraiser for girls in STEM, and I drove over there yesterday to drop off a check since they didn’t have any way to submit donations online. “I didn’t think anyone would be able to read my signature.”
“Oh, you’re making a name for yourself here, Brax. Don’t worry about that. But if you truly want your anonymity, then come to me and I’ll help you out.”
I stop on the grass. “You will?”
