The Renegade Billionaire: A Small Town Romance (Happiness Ever After Book 1)

“Did you see that one?” Madison shrieks with delight—it’s such a departure from the woman who tries so hard to be everything to everyone that she forgets to allow her own joy to shine through sometimes.

She’s pressed up against me, under my arm, and the hand she’s pointing to the sky with falls back to my chest when she shifts up to search my face.

“I saw it,” I fib. The truth is, I haven’t seen one damn shooting star because I can’t take my gaze off her.

Who could with a woman like her in their arms?

The line forms between her brows as she scans my face. “Did you really?”

I couldn’t wipe the grin she causes from my face if I tried, but I nod.

“Which way did it shoot?” That feisty side I’ve seen glimpses of is returning.

I lift my brow and feel the laughter bubbling in my chest. “Down?”

“Ugh,” she scoffs, and slaps my stomach playfully, but she also returns her head to my chest, and all feels right with the world when we’re connected.

I have no idea what time it is, if Pops will be waiting up for her to return home, or if we are actually in danger of a bear attack. At this moment, the only thing I care about is how good her body feels snuggled into mine.

This, with her, in the bed of this old Chevy truck on a blanket borrowed under questionable circumstances, is exactly where I’m meant to be.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Her voice is wispy with wonder. She’s probably been up here a hundred times and still manages to sound so in awe, it could very well be her first time.

“It is.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

Such a simple question, but it stumps me, and I shrug. “I’m not sure I was ever given a choice.”

Her shoulders droop under my arm. “What do you mean? That’s so…sad. Didn’t you have dreams as a kid? An astronaut or a firefighter? A ballerina clown in a circus?”

It’s so damn easy to laugh with this woman. “You have a very active imagination.”

“So, no ballerina clowns, I take it?”

“No,” I chuckle. “No ballerina clowns. I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood.”

“What is normal anyway? Did anyone really have normal?” Her voice carries an edge of sadness to it that I feel deep in my bones.

“No, I guess not. We’re all weird in our own way.”

We’re quiet for a long moment, her watching the sky, me watching her. Very quickly, this woman has become my favorite obsession.

“I guess, at one time, I thought I’d play football with Greyson.” The admission twists something long forgotten in my chest.

She instantly rises onto an elbow, and I cover her other hand where it’s splayed on my chest so she can’t move it. I like it there—it fits.

“Hold up a minute. You played football?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.” I laugh, only slightly offended.

“I just, you, when you helped Ethan tape his laptop back together, you never mentioned anything.”

“No,” I agree. “I didn’t. It wasn’t a great time in my life.” Have there been many good times? “Plus, Grey was the athlete. I just worked my ass off so he didn’t leave me behind. Not that he would’ve ever done that.”

“He’s been a good friend to you.”

“The best,” I agree. “Greyson’s my family.”

“What about the rest of your family?” She slowly lowers herself back into position next to me, and I don’t waste a second before I’m pulling her in closer to my side.

But a familiar pang clogs my throat, and the sigh that escapes ruffles the flyaway hairs on Madison’s head. “My parents and siblings aren’t good people, Madison. They only ever saw me as a problem to pawn off on someone else.”

She swallows and tucks her head against my ribs. Is she hiding?

My hand skates down her back in what I hope is a soothing motion that’s probably more for my benefit than hers.

“My grandparents were amazing, though. Did you ever watch reruns of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood?” I ask.

“No,” she says quietly. “I was more of a Sesame Street kid.”

I nod, allowing my hand on her back to calm my racing thoughts.

“Well, my Nana loved it, and so did I. When I was six years old, I told my dad I wanted to be a helper when I grew up.” Madison’s chest stops rising in the calming rhythm I was taking strength from—she’s holding her breath.

“What did he say?” she whispers.

My jaw clenches at the memory, and I’m thankful she can’t see it. “That helping anyone but myself was a sign of weakness, and it was more proof that I was a mistake.”

“He’s a jerk.” She slides her chin up my side to look at me. “Sorry, but your dad is horrible. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Emotion rumbles deep in my chest—she’s defending me. But before I can comment on it, she nuzzles into my side and hides her eyes.

We lie in comfortable silence, and I finally watch for the shooting stars that make her so happy.

“My parents sent me to live with Pops because I caused too much trouble.”

Something like acid crawls across my skin.

“I guess I was a lot like Pops as a kid, but my parents never tried very hard. I think when I came to live in Happiness, I buried that side of me. I became the perfect kid so someone would love me. I also became obsessed with love.” She laughs, but it’s a hollow sound. “Why did some people get love but others didn’t? I wanted everyone to experience it, even our pets. I started having pet weddings when I was eleven. In middle school, I was setting up friends with the best boyfriends I could find. By high school, I was actually good at it…well, for everyone but myself. I’m still working on deserving that love, I guess.”

“Hey.” Without thinking it through, I drag her up to straddle me and cup her face. A single tear slides down her cheek and over my thumb. It’s a magical thread that weaves around my heart and connects my spirit to hers.

She lowers her chin but leans into my touch.

“That’s why I hate being called the small-town sweetheart. It makes me feel like a fraud.” Her words are so damn sad that my stomach clenches. “I know it’s terrible because they all mean well and want what’s best for me. What I’m saying is, sometimes parents suck.”

I nod, too angry and wound up to say anything useful. Instead, I pull her down to rest against my chest. She settles on top of me, and I wrap my arms tightly around her back.

Have I ever grown close to anyone else this quickly? Even Greyson had to follow me around the playground for two months before I agreed to be his friend, and our grandfathers were the best of friends. If our fathers hadn’t been bitter rivals, things probably would’ve been different. But holding Madison intimately is the most natural thing in my life.

“I’m sorry your parents made you believe you didn’t deserve love. But they’re wrong, so fucking wrong, sweetheart. You deserve love more than anyone I’ve ever met.” It’s not enough. Not nearly enough, but when I think about what I would’ve wanted someone to say to me every time my parents told me I was a mistake, I decide to go with honesty. “If I’ve learned anything from my shitty family, it’s that I am not their mistake. I choose who I want to be, how I want to be, and who I’ll be in the future. So do you, Madison.”

Her body sags into mine, and I rub her back. Eventually she relaxes even more and emits the most delicate snore I’ve ever heard. I press a kiss to the top of her head, then allow my head to fall back to the bed of the truck with a dull thud.

That’s when I see it—my first falling star under the Georgia moon.

Closing my eyes, I wish upon a star—I wish for happiness.

The inky night sky begins to glow, announcing the sun’s imminent arrival. The air is frosty, but luckily, I run hot, and Madison’s burrowed into me, soaking up my body heat. I glance down at her and smile. She’s left a small patch of drool on my shirt, but the beauty of her relaxed face is worth it and the backache I’m sure to have later.

I should’ve woken her up. Driven us home.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I chose to hold her all night long, watching the stars and conceding that she was right. There is nothing in the world that can compare to her Georgia nightscape.

A soft groan has the corners of my lips twitching. She wasn’t that drunk last night, but having seen her in action for the last few weeks, I know she doesn’t drink all that often. How will she feel today?

Her open palm slaps against the bed of the truck to my left, then my right.

“What in the heavens?” She cracks one eye open, then squeezes them both shut. A moment later, her hands lift to my shoulders, then my face, patting as she goes as if she’s reading my body with her fingertips. “Oh, God.”

I chuckle. “How do you feel, sunshine?”

“Not like sunshine, I can tell you that. Why am I passed out on your chest?”

“Take a deep breath. All we did was talk last night. Well, you did kiss me, and I’m pretty sure you got me drunk off the fumes of that kiss, but that’s all.”

Her head lolls side to side against my chest, and then she begins to sit up. “I’m such an idiot.”

I grip her hips and press her body back into mine until she gasps adorably. I love all her sounds.

“Explain.” I don’t intend to be a demanding prick, but there’s something about her talking down to herself that irritates the hell out of me.

“Seriously?” she grumbles. Her head pops up and her chin digs into my chest. It’s not painful, just a pressure point that tells me she’s real.

“Seriously. Please explain how you’re an idiot because maybe I am too, but I had a great time last night.”

Her brows furrow, and even in the early morning darkness, I can tell she’s blushing.

This time when she struggles to sit up, I let her go. She slips to the side and rests on her knees facing me, then raises one finger into the air.

“One, I passed out on top of you. Two,” she lifts another finger. “I have a sneaking suspicion that not only did I kiss you, but you kissed me back. Three.” My grin grows wider as she thrusts three fingers toward my face. “I said some really embarrassing crap that I don’t talk about ever, with anyone. Four⁠—”

I snatch her hand before she can continue and hold it to my chest. “Four,” I say, “I’m thankful for every conversation we had last night because I can’t tell most people about the shitty people I grew up with. Well, I could, I suppose, but who the hell wants to hear that? Five, I can’t dance to save my life, but I’d cut off my own hand if it meant I got to dance with you again. Six⁠—”

“Braxton,” she whispers.

“Six, I’ve never dated, but if I were to describe my perfect date, last night would’ve been it, so please don’t say you regret it.” The thought of that burns. “Please.”

“You’ve never been on a date?”

“I spill all my secrets, and that’s what you focus on?”

“But…” She frowns. Does she not believe me? “But how is that possible?”

“It didn’t take me long to figure out that most people were more interested in what my family could do for them than they were in me. Never knowing if people want you for you or for what they think they can get from you, that motivates you to put up walls pretty quickly.”

She huffs and mutters something that sounds like “assholes,’ but I’m not sure I’ve heard Madison swear before.

“Madison.” I wait until she lifts her gaze to meet mine. “My family is…”

She lunges forward and covers my mouth with her hand.

“I don’t give a crap about your family, Braxton. In fact, I’m sorry to say this, but I already know more than I need to. I have no desire to know anything about your family unless they do anything else to hurt you in the future.”

“They don’t hurt me, Madison.” The words are a mumbled mess against her palm, so she releases me. “I’d have to care about them for them to hurt me.”

“I know firsthand that families can infect faster than cancer, even when we’ve taken all the steps to cut them out. What I’m saying is that unless you’re asking for support, the only thing I want to know about is Braxton Mitchell.”

Fuck. I need to tell her my real last name.

“Is that so?” I ask with a bravado I don’t feel at the moment.

“Yes.” She crosses her arms over her chest and frowns, but the sunshine radiating from her still heats my body against the cool morning air.

“Well,” I spread my arms wide. “What do you want to know?”

“Have you really never been on a date?”

“That was quick.” Leaning side to side, I stretch out my achy back. “Don’t get me wrong, I go out with Grey, and have occasionally…” Shit, this makes me sound like a dick. “I haven’t been celibate, but I guess I never met anyone that made me want to try for…more.”

Until now.

Her cheeks plump up as her lips curl at the edges. “What is it you want, Mr. Mitchell?”

I lift a brow and fight the ever-present chubby I have in her presence. “I want a lot of things, Madison.”

“So greedy.” Her gaze dances with mirth in the early morning sun. Fuck me, do I love it when she flirts with me. “What would you like from me? Right now?”

A groan of desire starts in my gut, then rumbles and rolls through my chest. Did she intend for that to sound so sexual?

“Braxton.” Her tone carries a warning, a light flashing orange. She isn’t telling me to stop, but I haven’t earned the green light yet either.

“A dance,” I say, standing and fishing the phone out of my pocket.

“A dance? Now? Here?” Her words follow my back as I jump down off the back of the truck, then spin to face her.

“Right here, right now.” I scroll on my phone until I find the song I’m searching for, then press play and hold out my hand to her.

“What song is this?” she asks but stands and places her palm in mine. When she reaches the tailgate, I wrap my arms around her thighs and let her slide down my body slowly. It’s the best kind of torture.

I make a point of staring at the brightening sky. “It’s called ‘Stargazing’ by Myles Smith.”

Madison throws her head back and laughs.

Her arms wrap around my neck as I guide her in a slow dance that doesn’t fit the song. “I had a really great time last night,” I tell her honestly.

“Yeah?” Why does it always sound as though she doesn’t believe me?

“Madison, I don’t say things I don’t mean. Any man would die happy if they got to watch the sunrise with you every morning.” Her cheeks tinge pink, and it sets fire to desires I’m struggling to control.

“Any man, or you?”

“I should be so lucky,” I say gently. It’s a tone I’ve come to equate with Madison.

“I think you’ve been wasting your talents by not dating,” she mutters. “You’re a natural charmer.”

“You think so?” I laugh. “I think I’ve just been waiting to find someone worth charming.”

“Smooth, Braxton. Real smooth.”

My face hurts from smiling so much. It’s definitely a first.

“Too cheesy?” I use my hand at the small of her back to press her closer.

“Maybe a little. To be fair, I haven’t had many opportunities to be charmed, so you could be nailing it and I have no idea.”

The song ends, but we continue to sway to a beat that vibrates between us.

“That needs correcting. I’ll have to talk to Pops about charming and wooing you. Something tells me he isn’t going to let last night slide without a discussion.”

She laughs so hard, tears dot the tips of her lashes. “He really likes you, Braxton.”

“And you?” I drawl. “How do you feel about me?”

Her cheeks are a delicate pink that reminds me of cotton candy.

“I think I’m worried that you’re some kind of mirage. You know, too good to be true.”

“Ah,” I say. “Were you always a pessimist, or is this lingering fear from whatever Turd did to you?”

It was the wrong thing to say. She shrugs and attempts to pull away. “That wasn’t a dig, sunshine. That was me, asking you to show me your skeletons so I’ll know how to bury the memories.”

“Braxton, you don’t even know me. What if my skeletons have already filled the cemetery?”

Hitching at the waist, I bring my nose in line with hers. “Then I’ll cremate the fuckers and spread the ashes wherever you ask me to.” As soon as I say it, I know I mean it more than anything else I’ve ever said.

Ace always talked about how love struck him with the precision of a whip the first time he saw my grandmother. I don’t even know if I believe in love at first sight, but whatever this connection is with Madison, it definitely feels as though I’m headed in that direction.

“That’s pretty intense for a man who’s never even been on a date before.”

I shrug and stand upright. “Not true. That was pretty intense for a man who went on the best date of his life last night and hasn’t made it home yet.”

She scoffs. “This wasn’t a date, Braxton.”

Holding up one finger, I correct her. “One, I’ve been called worse things than intense. Two, we had drinks.”

“I. I had a drink. You didn’t.”

“Three,” I tap her nose with my fingers. “We danced. A lot.”

Madison rolls her eyes, and I have a momentary vision of tugging her over my lap and spanking her bare ass for the infraction. I’ve never had a spanking kink.

This woman is bringing out all kinds of interesting shit in me.

“Four, I fought for your honor.”

“My ex was being an epic twatapossamus. That’s not fighting for my honor.”

I tap my jaw where a light bruise has formed. “Five, we talked about our shitty childhoods. Six, we snuggled—all night long while watching for shooting stars. Seven, we’re dancing to the sunrise. I know I’m not an expert—yet—but I’ve seen enough movies to know that this could rival any Heartmark first date.”

“You have a strange obsession with Heartmark, Mr. Mitchell. Plus, you weren’t even watching, so you didn’t see any shooting stars.”

She loves to bicker with me.

With a hand pressing into her back, I dip her low and allow my body to follow so our mouths nearly touch. “Au contraire, mon amour. I did see a shooting star, and my wish already came true.”

She searches my expression for the truth.

“You wished on a shooting star, and it already came true?”

“I did, and it did.”

Who knew that my happiness looked like Madison Ryan?

Unable to stop myself, I press the gentlest of kisses to her soft lips. When she gasps for air, I lift her upright.

She exhales. “We missed the sunrise.”

“I guess we’ll need a do-over then.” I lead her to the driver’s side door and help her into the cab, then wait until she slides to the middle. “I’ll see what I can do for date number two.”

“This was not a date, Braxton.” The exasperation she was going for isn’t quite packing the punch she intended. “A date requires you to ask me if I want to go.”

“I did. I asked if you wanted a ride last night. And this morning, I’m taking you home,” I smirk.

She drops her head to the back of the seat. “I swear you’re doing this on purpose. The entire town probably thinks we spent the night together.”

Now it’s my turn to groan. “I don’t give a shit what the town thinks, Madison. But when we do spend the night together…” I bite my lip until she looks at me.

“What?”

“When we do spend the night together, you won’t be going home carrying all this…frustration, I can promise you that.”

She gapes at me. “Pretty confident in yourself for someone who doesn’t date.”

“Baby, dating has never had anything to do with it…until now.”

When her mouth falls open and her face darkens to the pretty shade of red I’m starting to believe only happens for me, I put the truck in drive, more confident than ever that my shooting star wish is Madison Ryan.