Page 74 of The Renegade Billionaire
“But he asked to keep it a secret,” she whispers. She blushes, and I know for sure that she’s finding all kinds of ways to turn this into her next thriller novel.
“And they did that so well.” Eye rolling has become a new habit of mine.
“Why do you think he’s doing it all anonymously?” She follows me into the pantry.
I quickly run through everything Ace ever told me about his grandson while I pull down dishes and the ingredients for Pops’ brownies.
“His grandfather was Ace.” I pretend I’m searching for something and don’t turn around, but her gasp speaks volumes.
“No. Way.”
I spin at the sound of Savvy’s voice.
“I just saw Braxton on my way in. Do I need to hurt someone?”
“No.” It’s all I can manage before Clover trips over herself retelling Savvy how and why Braxton now owns part of my inn.
“Shit.” Savvy chews on her hangnail, then flops onto a stool at the island. “Elle’s on her way over. She had to ditch Cian first. Braxton is really Ace’s grandson?”
“Yeah.” Ace spent time with her while he was here too. He helped her create her entire business plan. “At least we know he’s a good guy.”
“But why so secretive?” Clover asks.
Savvy and I make eye contact before I say, “Because he doesn’t trust very easily.”
“His family hasn’t been good to him,” Savvy says.
I lean against the sink for support. “And now we’re partners.”
“Pops is a menace,” Savvy says with a laugh.
My grandfather is the definition of the word menace.
And now I have to figure out how to get my inn back.
17
BRAXTON
“I’ve decidedI can’t really be mad at you.” Madison smirks after sucking down her cocktail in less than three minutes. “But what do you think our grandfathers’ plan was?”
The lights strung through the rafters of the old barn cast an ethereal glow around her face—she’s an angel.
“You can be mad at me, sunshine.”
Her lips twitch—the light catching on her sparkly lip gloss calling me home.
Those damn lips haunt my dreams.
She shrugs, backs her body into the bar between Elle and me, then rests her elbows on the shiny wooden surface. When she tips her head up toward the ceiling to look at me, I find moments that make a life worth living hidden in every expression she attempts to keep to herself.
“No, I can’t. It’s no more your fault than it is mine.”
“Want another cranberry juice, Mads?” Moose calls from behind the bar.
“Cranberry juice?” I lift one brow in her direction.
Madison places her hand flat on my chest. The contact scorches through my button-down shirt straight to my skin. It’s a branding and a warning all in one. She stares up at me withbright blue eyes that destroy all my walls to see the naked truth behind them.
