Page 21 of The Renegade Billionaire
One look into Marty’s conflicted expression tells me everything.
“Hey, ah, Marty?”
“Yeah, kid?”
I slip him my credit card. “Whatever Pops gets today, put it on my card, okay?”
He stares at it as if it’s going to bite him. His big arms cross over his chest, and everything from the line between his eyes to his rigid posture indicates he’s put up his guard. “Why would you do that?”
I shrug. Why am I doing it? I have no explanation other than I have the same feeling I got when I had Grey order Ethan’s laptop—it makes my bitter ass feel better.
And it’s what Ace would’ve done.
“Just helping out,” I say, then walk away to find Pops.
He’s already in the back of the store, talking to a man about my age.
“There you are,” he says to me. “Didn’t take you for a slacker though. Braxton, this is Hunter. He dated Madi in the eighth grade.”
I’m not sure who blushes harder, Hunter or me.
“That’s a bit of history you probably didn’t need to know,” Hunter says with an easy drawl. “Nice to meet you. Glad Pops has some help over at the Hideaway. Sure would be a shame to see it shut down.”
“Shut down?” The back of my neck itches.
“Oh, you run your gossip somewhere else. Boy, grab three of these sheetrock slabs and stick ’em in the truck for me.”
I glance between Hunter and Pops, then do as I was asked, stopping by the counter first so Marty can see what I’m taking.
By the time I find Pops, he’s got an entire cart full of supplies and is heading toward the checkout.
“I should probably tell you, Pops, I’ve never fixed anything before.”
“Pfft,” he grumbles. “Ya shut the water off this morning, didn’t ya?”
“Well, yeah, but Madi gave me instructions.”
“So will I. Marty, you got all this?”
Marty looks from Pops to me, and I give my best “don’t tell him I’m paying” look. Marty nods, peers into the cart, and rings us up while Pops struts—yes, struts—toward the door. It’s the only way to describe the way he saunters out to the truck.
“Thanks for that. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if we kept this between you and me.”
Marty stares at me for a long moment before his face relaxes. “You’ve never lived in a small town, have you, son?”
How the hell does everyone know that?
“No, sir.”
“Well, I’ll keep your secret, but those two over there have probably already told half the town. The other half will know by suppertime.”
I look to where he’s pointing and find two older gentlemen whispering to a third who’s staring at me.
“Great,” I say as my spine locks up like a zipper. “Thanks, Marty.” As I walk away, I’m assaulted by the gossip of strangers. Their hushed words peck at my skin, picking away at the confidence doing good deeds had awarded me.
At the truck, Pops is talking to a young couple who stand arm in arm. It’s like he knows every person in town.
“Braxton, this is Jenny and Peter Cowles. Peter dated Madi in, what? Was that the seventh grade, Jenny?”
