Chapter 18: The Renegade Billionaire: Chapter 18

The problem with this fundraiser is that you have no idea what order the auction will go in. People get called up in groups, but Braxton hasn’t been called yet.

Cian was in the first batch, and Elle let ninety-year-old Ada Bowman win. He wasn’t happy about Elle refusing to bid, but when Ada let out a little whoop of happiness, he caved. Ada’s been lonely since her dog died, and no one was going to begrudge her of this, even if it means Cian will likely be replacing light bulbs and fixing shutters while she talks his ear off the entire time.

“Why won’t you tell me what group you’re in?”

“What would be the fun in that?” Even Braxton’s words are wrapped in joy. It’s annoying in the most unfortunately cute way.

“You’ll see how fun it is when I let Bethany win.” I nod toward the woman in front of us. She’s a little aggressive with her flirting, and he cringes as the scene plays out.

“You wouldn’t.” Even his mock outrage is charming. “I thought we had a deal, sunshine? You don’t want to go back on your word with me.”

A cold chill runs down my spine. Does he mean tonight? Or with the inn?

Dang it. I hate that Harry’s turned me into such an untrusting shrew. Brax doesn’t even sound menacing, so why am I immediately searching for a way to make him the bad guy? Savvy would have a lot of thoughts on this, I’m sure.

“I…”

“I’m talking about tonight, Madison. If I could gift you back my portion of the inn right now, I would. I’m not looking to take it from you, if that’s what just put those shadows in your eyes.”

God, I must be an open book now. How the heck does he always know what I’m thinking?

I pluck at the elastic on my wrist, then drop both arms to my side—I don’t replace pain anymore. Not since Harry’s actions had me nervously picking at my wrist until my skin bled.

“Madison—”

“Can group F please come to the stage?”

“Fuck. We’ll circle back to this. Do not allow anyone to outbid you, Madison.” He turns to leave, then says, “Please,” in the most gentle, pure tone that knocks down my walls faster than a wrecking ball.

“Fine,” I manage to say. “I won’t let anyone out bid me.”

His gaze blazes, and I have to look away or be incinerated by a desire I’m not sure I should act on.

Braxton Reyes nods, and I swear every woman in the room nods back.

This is getting messy.

Savvy hooks her arm through mine. “Good Lord, girl. That man wants to lick, suck, and devour every inch of you.”

“Uh-huh.” Well, he certainly makes me stupid.

“Do you guys see how everyone in the room looks at him?” Clover asks, clutching my other arm. “Do you think it’s because he’s so hot or because he’s rich?”

“It’d better be because he’s hot.” A deep, angry voice reverberates through my bones.

In slow-motion, we all turn to see a scowling but also hot as hell man glaring at us.

“Ah, that’s G-Greyson,” Clover stutters, then slips around to the other side of Savvy and away from the scary-looking GQ model. They’re physical opposites, but still, Greyson has a familiarity about him I can’t pinpoint. Unlike Braxton’s darker hair and eyes, Greyson has blond hair and pale-blue eyes that chill the air. He carries himself with foreboding darkness, something Braxton couldn’t pull off if he tried.

The three of us take a step back as one.

“If I find out that anyone here is using him or hurts him in any way, I will burn this fucking town to the ground. And I don’t make threats I don’t intend to keep.”

He bellies up to the bar and orders a double bourbon with Savvy right behind him. She’s too quick for me to catch, and the next thing I know, they’re nose to nose. Savvy is close to six feet tall, but Greyson towers over her.

“You do not get to come in here and issue threats or promises, you jackass. Madison’s put up with enough shit, and if you’re about to cause more, you can get your ass right back on a plane and go home.”

His brow furrows, obviously not used to someone speaking to him that way. “Madison?”

Both Savvy and Clover look to me in confusion.

“Madi.” Clover’s voice wavers as she points to me.

Shock registers for less than a second before every expression is wiped from his face. He stares me down while lifting his glass to his lips. “Well now, you’re not old.”

Pressing three fingers into my temple, I try to work out what he’s talking about. “Why would I be old?”

The man smirks, and even though it feels a little condescending, I get the distinct impression there’s loving humor hidden in it too.

“It would appear my best friend has been holding out on me.”

Savvy puffs up her chest, ready to say something so snarky it could shatter Greyson’s glass, but I place a hand on her forearm, and she relents. These two already mix about as well as oil and water, and the last thing I need is a perpetual fight between my best friend and Braxton’s.

“Holding out on what?” I ask, but the music seems to get louder, and every hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

Slowly I turn toward the stage, and out of my periphery, I see that Savvy and Greyson do the same.

“What the hell is he doing?” Greyson asks with an uncomfortable laugh.

I can’t peel my gaze away from Braxton. Time stops, and the entire room tunnels until all I can see is him singing ‘Stargazing.’ And not singing it off-key as the rest of us do, but singing it well.

Really well.

In a room full of people, his voice twists and turns straight to my heart. When he blinks, it’s slow, and I grab ahold of Clover’s arm for support.

“It would appear that Happiness is good for him,” Greyson says, standing at my side. Is it shock or wonder in his tone? I’m not sure because I can’t tear my gaze away from the hottest man I’ve ever seen singing a song that we danced to at sunrise.

And I feel every word, every emotion, every plea he pours out deep in my bones. He’s asking me not to hurt him. To allow him into my life and to trust him while my pulse beats erratically, violently throughout my body.

Because I do want to trust him. I want…

“Two hundred dollars,” Bethany shouts while standing on her chair.

“He isn’t even finished singing yet, Bethany. You’re being so rude,” I shout, which makes Braxton’s smile eat up his entire face.

“Two fifty,” someone shouts from the other side of the barn.

“What the heck is happening here?” My hands are on my hips, and I’m tapping an angry foot exactly as my gram used to do to Pops.

Oh my God. Maybe I am an old lady.

Braxton holds the last note longer than necessary, and everyone in the room cheers. Freaking cheers—standing ovation cheers!

“Who knew he could sing?” Savvy laughs next to me.

“He’s good at everything he does.” I peer up at Greyson. “Apparently, he trusts you enough to let you see that. He hasn’t had that opportunity often.”

“Two seventy-five,” someone else shouts, and now I’m getting angry. Cian went for forty-five dollars. Forty-five.

“Three hundred,” Jessa shouts next to her mom, who is trying desperately to get her to put her arms down.

“Jessa,” I scold. “You’re sixteen. You’re not even old enough to bid.”

“I’ll bid for her.” Bethany sticks out her tongue at me, and my jaw drops. Everyone has lost their dang minds. “Three hundred.”

“Bethany. You don’t have an extra three hundred dollars lying around.”

“No, but I’ve got a credit card, and a night with him would be worth it.”

Anger boils over in my gut. “It’s dinner, Bethany. D-I-N-N-E-R. Dinner.”

She waggles her brows in my direction. “We’ll see.”

“Three twenty-five,” Betty from the diner says, holding up a stack of ones that’s probably her tip money for the month.

“This is getting out of control,” Clover whispers in my ear.

Turning in place, I shoot eyeball flames at those who are bidding, but my jaw drops to my chest when I find everyone in the room staring at me with amusement sparkling in their ridiculously happy eyes.

“Three fifty.”

“Was that Moose? Did freaking Moose just bid on Braxton?”

“Three seventy-five.” That was one hundred percent my grandfather.

When I turn back to Braxton, he’s drinking me in, and when our gazes connect, he simply raises a brow.

Oh crap. I’m supposed to enter this insanity. But four hundred dollars? Seriously?

“Is he worth four hundred dollars?” I mumble. “That seems excessive.”

“Madi,” Clover screeches while Savvy hides behind me laughing—I can feel her body shaking against mine, the traitor. Where the heck is Elle? She’s the only sensible one, and that’s saying something since her hormones are all on a different roller coaster with this pregnancy.

Braxton offers a crooked smile that has a scuffle breaking out on my left. Bethany is going head-to-head with Jane from the library. They’re counting through a stack of pooled money, then Bethany jumps up and down in place. “Five hundred.”

“Do something.” Clover pokes me in the side.

“What? What do you want me to do? Five hundred dollars is freaking unreasonable.”

“It’s for charity,” Savvy reminds me.

“Five twenty-five.” This comes from a new bidder I can’t see.

I’m starting to sweat, and flapping my hands under my pits so I don’t end up with a sweat stain. Then I remember that Braxton is watching, and I almost die when he throws his head back and laughs.

“Take a stand, Madi. Do something,” Clover hisses.

“Take a stand? What?”

“Claim him before someone else does!” Savvy nudges me again, and I stumble forward a step.

Braxton mouths, Bid, sunshine, and just as someone yells, “Five fifty,” I stomp toward the stage shouting, “One thousand. One freaking thousand. That’s it. I won. Call it off.”

Moose bangs a gavel and says, “Going once.”

“Moose,” I admonish. “You’re holding the gavel. You’re not allowed to bid, and I heard you do it.”

The old man winks and points me toward the stage as if I hadn’t just spoken.

I don’t bother walking up the steps. I get to the edge of the stage and point to the floor as though I’m scolding a dog.

And Braxton hasn’t stopped laughing. He jumps down and stands before me.

“You won.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “The entire town has lost their minds.”

“You won me.” He inches closer so the toes of our shoes are touching.

Is everyone staring at us? Why is it suddenly so quiet in here?

“You own me now, sunshine. What will you do with me?”

Oh my God. Everyone is totally listening in. You could hear a pin drop in here. Or maybe it’s just that the blood rushing through my ears has drowned out all the other conversations that should be happening.

“Um…”

“Kiss him.”

I’m going to kill Savvy.

“Don’t touch her,” Harry slurs somewhere behind me.

Maybe it’s Savvy’s encouragement, Harry refusing to move on, or the way Braxton immediately tugs me into the protection of his arms when he hears my ex, but whatever it is, I hope I don’t regret it.

Because the next thing I know, I’m clawing at his shirt, tugging him down, and kissing him. Again. For the second time in less than forty-eight hours, I’m kissing this man, and instantly my sex throbs as though it’s been deprived of attention its entire life.

But this time, he doesn’t hold back. The instant our lips make contact, he takes full control of my mouth.

If we weren’t in front of a crowd of hooting and hollering neighbors right now, I think I’d probably be rubbing myself all over him like a cat in heat. And when his tongue parts the seam of my lips and demands entry, I fall into him, head, lips, and heart.

This kiss is not PG. He does things in my mouth that I feel on every private nerve ending I possess until I’m lightheaded and gasping, yet he still doesn’t pull away.

His lips are firm and soft, with a hint of Cheerwine on his tongue, which makes my heart thunder. You don’t get more Southern than Cheerwine.

He parts our lips, just a millimeter separating us as he commands my body, and when I suck in air, he dives back in. I’m flying from this kiss, higher than any drug could take me. Is this what it means when they talk about lightning strikes and butterflies? If so, I’ve been struck down and came back to life as a whole kaleidoscope of monarchs.

The music finally brings the world into focus, and when I find shining eyes in varying shades of happy, my entire body goes up in flames, and I hide my face against him.

“I cannot believe I just made out with you in front of half the town.” I moan into his chest.

“Totally worth it.” He sounds distracted though, and when I peer up at him, I find his attention over my head.

That’s when I remember Harry.

“Let’s go get a drink.” Braxton tucks me protectively under his arm. I should tell him that Harry wouldn’t hurt me here with everyone we know in attendance. I don’t think it’s in him. His specialty is in the wounds no one can see, but I don’t get the chance because Braxton stops short right in front of Greyson and Savvy, who are nearly chest to chest and angry as hell.

I’ve never seen Savvy this worked up, not even when she was attempting to knee Harry in the balls—any of the times.

Clover stands off to the side with Elle, pulling her cardigan closer to her body. It’s what she does when she’s nervous.

“Greyson?” Brax says his name, but Greyson is in a verbal sparring match with Savvy.

“He’s the best man I’ve ever known. I would, and I did, give up everything for him. That’s what brothers do. That’s what I’ll always do. So don’t go throwing around accusations that have no basis in reality because you, you could never understand what it’s like to be me.”

“I…” Savvy’s mouth opens and closes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her flustered before either. Not even when she flat-out told her sexual health professor that he didn’t know a woman’s G-spot from her butthole.

“Grey?” Braxton repeats, this time stepping between our two friends.

Greyson blinks rapidly, as though Braxton is out of focus, and then he tips his glass back until he’s drained its contents.

“It’s been a shit day, Brax. I just came to let you know we arrived early, and I brought Mercutio with me because he said he missed his ride.”

“Mercutio?” Braxton appears thoroughly confused.

“Pops,” I say.

“Like Romeo and Juliet?” Braxton asks.

“Yeah, he really lives up to the name too.”

“I refuse to call someone I just met Pops,” Greyson says stiffly.

“Wait, Pops’ real name is Mercutio?” Braxton asks.

“Pops is what he prefers to be called,” I tell Greyson with a hint of annoyance. First, he yells at my best friend, who’s looking a little ashen, and then he disrespects my grandfather. Who does he think he is?

“Stand down, sunshine. He didn’t mean anything by it. Greyson’s just a little…formal.” Then Braxton turns to Greyson. “I can’t believe he told you his name. I’ve been asking every day since I arrived.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not as friendly as you.”

“Apparently,” Savvy mutters.

Greyson cuts a glare her way that’s so cold I shiver. Without taking his gaze off Savvy, he says, “I can’t deal with this.” Then he turns to me, and for the first time since he walked in, I see a hint of the warmth he must reserve for his family. “Thank you, truly, for opening rooms for us. My nephew—” He sighs with the weight of the world on his breath. “I appreciate it.”

It’s been such a whirlwind since he arrived, I’m not sure how to answer.

“I’ll come with you,” Braxton says. But then he peers around the room, and I feel his muscles bunch. “I don’t want to leave you here with him though. I don’t trust him.”

My heart thumps against my chest, and that similar sensation from earlier washes over me.

“It’s okay, I’ll come too. I wasn’t expecting them until morning, and I’m sure Pops’ welcome wasn’t exactly professional.”

“What about the auction?” Elle asks. I hadn’t even noticed that she and Cian had moved closer.

“I was the only one who was ever going to win her. I’ll pay for both our bids on our way out,” Braxton says, engulfing my hand in his.

Even though the concept of him winning me is not at all politically correct, there’s something about it that excites me.

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt cherished before. Loved, yes. Hated, yes. But cherished? That’s a whole new level for me.

“Is that okay with you?” he asks, and I melt for him completely. He takes charge but remembers to ask me what I want.

I’m a goner.