Chapter 17: The Renegade Billionaire: Chapter 17

“I’ve decided I 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 with bright blue eyes that destroy all my walls to see the naked truth behind them.

She’s intoxicatingly beautiful.

“Contrary to what you may think, I’m not a big drinker.” A sexy pink flush crawls across her cheeks as she speaks. “The Firefly was a lot for me.” I watch the color bloom down her throat and into the neckline of her shirt.

When she tilts her head, I know she’s caught me, so I mentally remove the cobwebs and attempt to behave as though I’m a grown man with a little restraint.

“Jesus.” I run a hand through my hair. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Regretting your stay already?” Her voice wobbles, betraying a hint of vulnerability that makes me want to hold her all night long.

Every night.

Lowering my lips to her ear, I inhale her light citrus scent and allow my breath to caress her bare neck. “I may end up with a lot of regrets in my lifetime, sunshine. But it will never be spending time with you.” She shivers, and heat radiates down my spine.

“Never?” The fairy lights above reflect on her beautiful face, and I soften my features. The very last thing she needs is a Neanderthal crowding her space.

“Never,” I vow, then take a step back.

“Easy there, big guy. The auction’s about to begin,” Elle says, cutting in. She places a hand on her ginormous belly and motions toward her husband. “You can head up with Cian.”

“The feck he can. I’m not part of the deal,” Cian grumbles as he approaches the group.

Elle glares at him, then wobbles off her stool to stand with one hand on her hip and one pointing at her husband’s chest. “Yes, you are.”

“Ah, come on, Tink. I’m not eligible anymore.”

I mouth the word Tink to Madison, and she giggles. It’s such a delicate sound, I almost lose it in the loud bass reverberating through the floorboards.

Goddamn, how can I be so affected by simple sounds?

She reaches up on her tiptoes, and I bend to meet her. When her lips reach my ear, a fissure of electricity runs through my body at the contact.

I’ve been a live wire my entire life, and she’s the grounding I’ve been searching for.

My hands immediately fall to her hips—to keep her steady. “They broke up once senior year of high school around Halloween. Elle showed up to the football party dressed as a slutty Tinker Bell.” She pulls back an inch to make sure I heard her. My face is screwed up into a permanent smile when she’s this close, and her eyes sparkle in return. “I’m not saying the costume did it, but he didn’t leave her side again for about three years.”

“Smart man.”

She lowers back to flat feet, her body rubbing against mine as she does.

“This year, the event is for Patty.” Elle has both hands on her hips now. “That last hurricane ruined her paddocks, and she didn’t have flood insurance. So march your ass up there, wave at the ladies, and pick a song.”

“Ah, what’s happening?” I ask, trying to gauge the situation, but no one seems too keen on giving me answers.

Cian snaps his gaze in my direction. “Aye, no one told you what the fundraiser was, did they?”

I look to Madison, hoping for a save, but she smiles sweetly and crosses her arms.

“That would be a no,” I grumble while lifting my hands from Madison’s hips. I instantly feel hollow, and I’m not sure what to do with that information.

“All the eligible men are getting auctioned off,” Elle says.

Now I’m paying attention.

“Auctioned off for what, exactly?”

Madison’s gaze turns downright sinister. “Three of the winners get a night at the inn, and those are just the runners-up prizes.”

“A night. At the inn. With whoever wins the bid?”

Madison bites her bottom lip until it turns white, then nods, twisting the toe of her shoe into the floor behind her while staring up at me through heavy-lidded lashes.

“You’re telling me we have to sleep at the inn with someone?” Without my consent, my voice turns downright feral. “That’s not happening, sunshine. Not unless you’re planning to bid, so someone had better start explaining right the fuck now.”

When everyone around us sniggers, I square my shoulders, bend at the waist, and bring Madison eye to eye with me. “That can’t even be legal. It’s prostitution. What do the other winners get?”

Her grin splits her face in two.

“Only the bidders get rooms, ya bubbletwat. Ya have dinner, say goodnight and go on yer merry way. You don’t even have to stay at the inn if you don’t want to,” Cian barks.

Stepping into Madison’s space until she backs up to the bar, I bracket her in with my arms and feel my lips tilting up on one side. “Is this why you’re not mad at me?”

She tips one delicate shoulder up. “Maybe.”

“Oh, you sweet, misinformed troublemaker.”

“Hey,” she huffs.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my wallet, and remove a credit card. “Sweetheart, I’ve got enough on my plate, so there’s no way I’m spending a night with anyone else.”

I run my credit card along the column of her neck and across her collarbone, then watch as her throat bobs while she swallows. I’d give my left nut to lick the pulse point that’s running a marathon beneath her skin.

Instead, I try desperately not to stare at the buttons undone on her flannel shirt that show a hint of cleavage or the way a sliver of her stomach peeks out where she’s tied the front into a knot as I slide my credit card into the breast pocket of her shirt.

“I’m trying to keep a low profile here, sunshine.” When she opens her mouth to argue, I lower my voice and go with the truth. “I don’t want to be taken advantage of, not here. I want people to get to know me for me, not for what my grandfather built. Can you help me do that?”

She stares into my eyes, back and forth as though she’s reading all my secrets. “You know you’re not really doing a very good job of staying incognito. It’s only a matter of time before everyone figures out who you are.”

“You already know who I am,” I counter.

“Do I? Because your social media presence doesn’t give anything away.”

That information cracks my heart wide open for her. “Have you been googling me, Madison?”

“Of course we have,” Savvy interrupts, bursting our bubble. “And something’s not adding up.”

Lowering my hands to my sides, I attempt to keep the annoyance from my tone at being interrupted.

“You won’t find much about me online,” I say smoothly. “My family didn’t appreciate any reminders of me. Probably because I was my grandfather’s favorite. But they all fought to give me privacy—my parents for purely selfish reasons, my grandfather to give me some semblance of a normal childhood. But anything else you want to know, you ask me.”

“Let’s go.” Cian curses. “Time to get this over with.”

Madison steps forward, and I put my finger through her belt loop as though it’s the most natural place for it to be, and I gently tug her toward me. “Do not allow anyone to outbid you. I don’t care how much it costs.”

Savvy smirks, then pushes between me and Madison, pulling my card from Madison’s left breast pocket. “This round is on Brax.” She laughs, and I clench my jaw until it aches but allow Cian to drag me toward the front of the barn where a makeshift stage has been set up.

We stand in a semicircle awaiting instructions, and it takes all my self-control not to stare at Madison. It isn’t until I’m handed a karaoke book that I feel a glare on me. Scanning the crowd, I see why a second later.

Harry stands across from me with pure hatred coating his expression.

“Fuck me. Does he ever take a hint?” I mutter.

Cian follows my line of sight and grunts. “No. But he will. Pick your song.”

“I’m sorry. What now?” I feel a little cartoonish as I say it, and judging by the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, it’s not too far off from what he sees as I attempt to shove the book into his hands.

“Your song,” he rumbles, pushing the book back to me. “We sing and dance and make a fecking fool of ourselves while they bid on us.”

“What do the women have to do?” I glance into the crowd again. The ratio of men to women is certainly skewed higher on the male side.

“Don’t worry. The ladies go next.”

This gives me pause. Suddenly it feels like a much better idea for only me to be auctioned off.

“Really? You’re okay with that?”

He scans me with a dangerous gleam in his expression. “You’re asking the wrong questions, Brax.”

My skin is starting to sweat, and I think I should’ve sat tonight out. I could’ve just stayed home and waited for Greyson, but he didn’t think they’d get here until early morning since they had to make a stop in New York first.

“Oh, yeah? What should I be asking?”

“What we get when we win.” Cian’s voice booms over the crowd of people milling about, and I know the instant Harry hears because his face turns volcanic.

Without taking my gaze off Madison’s ex, I ask, “Okay, I’ll bite. What do we get?”

Cian’s chest puffs up three sizes as he crosses his massive arms and widens his stance as though he’s preparing to be attacked. Absentmindedly, I mimic the big guy’s stance.

“Well,” he says, glaring in the direction of our current mutual enemy. “Madison has brought in the highest bid for three years running, so there’s a good chance she’ll be in the top two winners again tonight.”

“And…”

“And no one dares bid on Elle.”

“Cian! What do I win?”

“Ya each get a weekend getaway to the mountains. It’s one of Madison’s favorite spots. And I happen to know that there’s only one bedroom available in the cabin right now due to construction.”

Jealousy heats my blood, and the rushing in my ears drowns out the noise of the party. There’s not a chance in hell I’ll allow another man to win Madison. “How do you know that?” I ask through clenched teeth.

The giant winks at me. “’Cause it’s my cabin.”

“You mother⁠—”

“Take it easy. You really think anyone can outbid ya?”

“I…”

“Pick your song, mate. You’ve got a girl to win.”

Spinning in place, I try to locate Madison and am pleased to find her watching me. She’s picking at something on her wrist with her head angled toward Elle as though she’s listening, but her eyes are the siren song that makes my pulse race.

“Turd alert,” Cian says on a fake cough.

The scent of cheap whiskey burns my nose hairs, but I don’t take my gaze off Madison. The worry line is back between her brows, and it makes me irrationally angry that he has this effect on her.

“She’s not yours,” Harry slurs in my general vicinity.

I smile brightly at Madison, hoping my body language emits a calm demeanor because inside I’m boiling over. No one should be able to cause this much pain. I nod toward Madison. The gesture has her sucking in a large gulp of air that lifts her chest.

She chews on the inside of her cheek, but Elle and Savvy keep her in place. I guess their meddling isn’t always such a pain in the ass.

“Last I heard,” I say without raising my voice, “Madison’s her own woman. She doesn’t need either of us making decisions for her.” Turning my back on him, I trust Cian to support me.

It nearly knocks the air from my lungs. I haven’t trusted this blindly since I was a child, yet here I am with Cian.

“I’ve got you,” Cian mutters quietly enough that only I can hear. “Go give them your song. I got your back and the girls in my sight.”

Does he have any idea how big of a step this is for me? If he does, he doesn’t make a big deal about it, and that more than anything hits me with the force of a sack of bricks to the side of my head.

“Thanks,” I say, then head over to the DJ, already knowing what song I’ll sing. Madison is going to hate it, and I can’t wait.