Chapter 29: The Renegade Billionaire: Chapter 29

“Hey, Pops, guess what?” Sage asks, walking into the room with a large duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Today he’s wearing his eyeliner again, and secretly I’m relieved. I don’t want him changing himself to fit in.

If the people in his world can’t accept him, then we’re living in the wrong environment. He said the ‘guys on the team’ don’t care, and so far, that seems to be the truth.

Kids are truly more tolerant in some ways than they were when I was young, but choosing a path that’s different than the majority will never come without friction.

“What the hell’s all over you?” he asks, pointing to me, Grey, and Cian.

We’ve just come down from the attic and are covered in dust and cobwebs. This place is a modern-day money pit from hell.

“What’s that?” Pops responds to Sage’s first question before any of us can answer his second. Pops is reclining in his chair again, as happy as I’ve ever seen him—I think he enjoys having a full house.

Sage spares a quick glance my way with mischief in his gaze while inching closer to the front door. “Uncle Brax’s been sleeping in Madi’s room every night this week.”

I take a step in his direction. I truly want to throttle my nephew, but he escapes out the front door, howling with laughter.

“That so?” Pops says, pressing the button to sit his recliner up.

“I guess we’ll talk budget after practice,” Grey says, backing up to follow Sage out the front door.

“I’m staying right here for this one,” Cian chuckles.

“Did you think about Coach B.’s offer?” I ask Grey, attempting to divert Pops’ attention.

“Grey.” Pops leans forward in his chair. Maybe it actually worked. “You’ll take the coaching job, least for the rest of the season. It’ll be good for you, and you can keep an eye on our kid there—ya know, make sure no Harry Turds give him any trouble.”

“Fuck,” Grey curses. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Mm-hmm.” Then Pops turns a stern glare my way. “And you. You been sleeping with my grandbaby?”

“Good luck,” Grey calls over his shoulder. “That’s for leaving that present on my desk.” I try not to laugh as he shuffles out of the house, slamming the door on his way by. I guess he didn’t find the box of extra-small condoms to be as funny as I did.

“Well, Pops. She is my girlfriend.”

“That so? I don’t remember you asking my permission.”

Cian snorts but makes no move to save me.

“I thought I only had to ask permission for marriage.”

“Well, what the hell you got a girlfriend for if you’re not looking to marry her? Don’t go fucking around with my grandbaby, boy. I don’t care how friendly I was with your granddad, she’s my priority.”

“I’m not,” I say with hands raised. I’ve never seen this fiery protective side of Pops before, but I knew it was in there.

“So you are lookin’ to marry her then.”

“I, well, we’ve only been dating for a week, Pops.” Tugging on my collar, I have the urge to blow cool air down my shirt.

“When did you know you were going to marry Elle?”

Cian stands up straighter, suddenly not looking so pleased with his decision to stay for this conversation.

“You know how that went down, Pops.” Cian’s face flushes. At least I’m not the only one in the hot seat.

“When did ya know?”

Cian curses out the side of his mouth before looking right at me and saying, “I knew I’d marry her on our second date, but I was young and an idiot.”

“I married Madi’s grandma after three dates. You know when it’s right. So I’m asking ya, is it right?”

I’m having a hard time swallowing, and it’s hot as balls in here. Sweat gathers at the base of my neck, making me itchy. “I mean, it feels right.” I scan the room, searching for a tissue and wondering if I can crack a window without being suspicious about it. “But I’ve never had a girlfriend before. We’re taking it slow, I guess.”

“And sleeping in her room is taking it slow?” Cian’s smirk makes his eyes squinty, but I’m past being intimidated by him. The guy is as soft as a teddy bear.

I practically hiss in his direction. “You’re supposed to be on my side here.”

“Nah,” he says flippantly. “We’re all team Madi in this town.”

“Good,” I say. “She deserves to have everyone on her side. But I think she wants to take things slow too. We’re just…getting to know each other.”

“By sleepin’ in her room,” Pops muses. At least his lips are starting to curl at the corners. “Well, are you giving the hatch a cover?”

This is one of those moments in my life when I feel the need to search for hidden cameras. “Ah, what?”

Cian chokes on a laugh.

“Rolling on the overalls.” Pops is fucking with me. I can see it in his ruddy cheeks, but I have no clue what he’s talking about. “Outfitting the old chap.”

Heat spreads through my body as he directs weird rapid-fire words my way.

“Donning the safety suit.” Cian howls.

“Suiting up the rooster.” Pops’ entire body is bouncing with each word.

“Loading the cannon cover.”

My gaze jumps between these two fools when it hits me—they are fucking with me.

“Yes, I’m sheathing the sword,” I growl.

“Dressing the pickle.” Cian clutches his stomach at his own idiocy, and Pops finally breaks into a belly laugh.

“Securing…the…sausage…wrapper.” Pops wheezes between each word.

I cross my arms over my chest, attempting to keep a straight face, but laughter is freaking contagious—especially his.

“Are you done?” I ask Cian because I’m fairly certain Pops could go on for days.

“Getting a glove for the love shove.” Cian falls into a chair, swiping at tears on his cheeks.

“The love shove!” Pops cackles.

“Getting the goalie ready.” I honestly didn’t know Cian had this in him. “Okay, okay, stop. I can’t breathe.”

“Stop?” I ask, incredulously. “You’re the one keeping it going.”

The two of them blubber incoherent words with tear tracks staining their faces. It’s quite the sight to see, but I can’t get over the fact that Pops is asking me if I’m having safe sex—at thirty years old.

“Okay. I think we’re good,” Cian says when he’s semi-composed.

“I’m so glad.” The sarcasm in my tone does nothing to keep them in check.

“Well, boy. Are ya?” Jesus. He actually wants me to answer him.

“Yes, Pops. I’m using a condom. I always use a condom. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I should shoot you right in the ass for having sex in my house.”

My jaw drops to the floor.

“But seein’ as this ain’t my house anymore, there’s not much I can do ’bout it now, can I? But I’m watchin’ you.”

“I would expect nothing less,” I say truthfully.

“Now don’t go telling Madi I asked ’bout none of that. That’s her business, not mine to go messing around in.”

I’m fully dumbfounded. “Madi’s sex life is her business, but my sex life is up for interrogation?”

“Damn straight, skippy. You ever tried to interrogate Madison?” The old man shivers with a shit-eating grin. “You’re much easier to rile up.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I pray for patience because dealing with Pops requires all the tolerance in the world.

“Can we get back to the inn now?” I ask. “We need to insulate the attic and probably gut at least the entire third floor. Is that where we stand now?”

Cian nods. “Structurally, we’re sound, but technically we still need the report from the engineer before we continue. Cosmetically, if you want to do it right, I think you need to gut the entire place and start over. Update the electrical and the HVAC, all of it.”

“Right. Okay, but we can keep true to the original design in most cases, right? Madison loves this place the way it is. I want it to be safe, but I don’t want to take away all the charm that makes it hers.”

“That’s probably a question for someone like Elle. Not Elle because her due date is quickly approaching, but you can work with an interior designer to keep the elements you want.”

“Not me? Are you out of your damn mind?” Elle scolds from the front door. I hadn’t heard her come in, but I can tell immediately that something’s off.

She’s gripping the doorframe so tightly her knuckles are white, and she’s a little ashen. Did she walk over here? They’re literally next door, but it’s a hike through the field that connects the two properties.

“No one will be working in here but me, so stop trying to push me out, Cian.”

He rushes to her side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, damn it. I have a bowling ball on my bladder. How does that sound to you?”

Pops, Cian, and I all grimace.

“Braxton.” She says my name with the vehemence of a curse. “Don’t you dare hire any other decorator. This job is mine. I’ve known Madi since we were nine years old. I know every dent and bump in this house because most of the time, I was the one getting into trouble with her, and I love this place as much as anyone.”

I hold up both hands. “That’s fine, Elle. The jobs yours.”

“Good,” she huffs. “And you,” she says in a deep, guttural voice that’s more demon than woman. “If I hear you trying to put me out of business again, you’ll walk around with blue balls for a year. A year.” She groans, and her knees tremble.

“Um, Elle? Are you in labor?” I ask.

“No, I’m not. It’s too early, she’s not due yet. And I think I’d know, and I’m not ready. I’m not ready. There’s too much shit to do, and⁠—”

We all glance down at the puddle that splashes to the floor beneath her.

“Holy shit. Your water broke.” Cian spins in a circle with one hand on his head, so I move to Elle’s side in case she falls over. “We practiced for this. I’m ready, you’re ready. The bag is ready. Oh my God. The bag is at home. Did you bring the bag, Elle? Did you?”

“Yeah, Cian. I waddled my fat ass over here with a bowling ball trying to push out of a pea-sized hole with my delivery bag slung over my shoulder. No, I didn’t bring the damn bag,” she shouts. Her eyes fly open and stare me down while she grips my hand in a crushing hold.

“Contraction,” I say. “Breathe, Elle. Breathe through it.”

“You fucking breathe through a pinhole, you fucker,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Hospital,” Cian says, running out the front door.

“He’s lost his mind,” Pops says with a chuckle.

“Cian O’Brien, get your big ass back in here and help me,” Elle shouts.

There’s a clatter on the porch that sounds like him falling up the stairs, and then he’s back in the doorway with both hands in his hair and sweat staining the front of his T-shirt.

“I’m going to be a da—a dad.”

“Cian, if you don’t get me to the hospital in time for an epidural, you’ll be known as sperm donor for the rest of your life. I will teach this giant-headed baby to call you sperm donor. I swear it.”

Flashbacks of Violet make my stomach heave. “Let’s go,” I demand. “Cian, pick her up and put her in my truck. I’ll drive.”

He doesn’t bat an eye at following my directions.

Pops’ hand lands on my forearm as I’m digging in my pocket for the keys. “It’s different this time, Braxton. Elle has had prenatal care, and they’re ready for this.”

He knows about Grey’s sister. It shouldn’t shock me, but it does. I nod in response because my throat is itchy and I think I might throw up.

Thank God Grey wasn’t here. I have no idea how he would react, but my gut says it wouldn’t be good.

“I’ll call Madi, you get them to the hospital.” Pops nudges me toward the door, and I move on autopilot.

Elle will be fine.

She has to be.

She has to be because I can’t go through this again—ever.

“Braxton?”

Madi rushes through the door with Pops in a wheelchair.

“What happened to him?”

She glances down at Pops, then back to me. “Nothing. I can move faster if I’m pushing him.”

“She got in trouble for running twice,” Pops tattles, but by the glint in his eye, I’d say he loved every minute of it.

“Is she okay?”

I nod, then shrug. The truth is, I don’t know.

“I think so. Her doctor was ready for her when we got here, but I haven’t heard anything since she and Cian got whisked away.”

“Right. Okay, that’s normal,” she says, but her tone suggests her mind is elsewhere.

“Mads?” Savvy and Clover barrel into the waiting room, with Sage and Grey on their heels.

“We were finishing practice when Coach B. said Elle went into labor,” Sage says quietly. “Savvy was teaching a class, and we found her in the parking lot trying to unlock her car.”

“She couldn’t drive that way,” Grey grumbles. “So we picked up Clover on the way.” His jaw is tight, and tension has him coiled up tighter than a rattlesnake.

The only pregnancy we’ve ever experienced ended in trauma neither of us ever truly recovered from.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

He nods sharply. “I spoke to your mom earlier. You need to call her.”

The subject change gives me whiplash. Why would I call my mother, and now of all times?

“I fact-checked what she’s saying, but the call is yours.” My best friend’s voice is cold, robotic, and I don’t know how to help him.

This is not a situation I ever thought about, so I doubt he did either, but I know it’s bringing up painful memories that are never far away.

Madison is sitting along the back wall with her best friends on either side, and Grey hands me his phone.

“It’s time-sensitive, so you should go make the call now.”

“What did she want?” I ask.

“There aren’t enough beds or sleeping bags at the shelter, and it’s so cold outside they’ll freeze to death if they don’t have a roof over their heads. She’s asking you to help locate a larger space with more accommodations.”

“That’s…okay. We should do that, right?”

“Yes,” Sage says. “We’ll stay with Madi.” He understands our pain and has his own, but there’s excitement on his face too.

“Are you okay?” I ask him.

“Yes. They’re having a baby. It’s amazing. Think they’ll let me babysit?”

Grey turns to him, confusion clear in his expression, but he quickly schools it. Sage has always been his priority. He’ll bury whatever he needs to in order to support him. And if that means pretending to be happy about a new baby entering the fold, he’ll do it.

I just don’t know how long he can keep everything locked away like this.

“I’ll just tell Madison,” I say, squeezing both of their shoulders, then walking toward the three excited but nervous friends.

“I have to make a phone call. I’ll be right back. Do you guys need anything?”

Madison looks surprised, but then she tilts her head, looks from me to Grey, and frowns.

“We’re good. I just have to make a phone call,” I tell her.

“Okay. We don’t need anything.” She opens her mouth to say more, but I lean down and kiss her before she can.

“I’ll be right back.”

“She’ll be fine.” Savvy looks to me with a little bit of wonder in her eyes. “Labor can take hours and hours. We’ll be right here.”

Hours? Really? Sage was born so quickly, I never stopped to ask if it was normal. Nothing about his birth was normal.

My head is a cloudy mess as I exit the hospital and find a bench to sit on, and an image of Madison with a large round belly nearly knocks me onto it.

I don’t want kids. Do I? Does Madison? Is it too early for those kinds of thoughts?

What if she does want babies? Could I handle her being pregnant?

Grey’s phone vibrates in my hand, and my mother’s name flashes on the screen. Pushing everything to the back of my mind, I answer her call.