Chapter 34: The Renegade Billionaire: Chapter 34

When I pull into the Hideaway’s driveway, I’m nearly blinded. The lights that cover the outside could rival National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. I’ve never seen so many decorations on one property before and the inn hasn’t ever been so…bright.

Apparently, Braxton was too ambitious, and the reno is going to take much longer than he anticipated, so I’m not sure why he asked me to meet him here.

“What the hell has he done?”

Cian walks around the side of the house, holding a bunch of extension cords, so I jump out of the car to greet him.

“Hey, Cian. Ah, what’s going on?”

“Ask your boyfriend. He’s pushier than six-year-olds at an Easter egg hunt.”

“I thought he didn’t celebrate Christmas.” A gust of wind has me pulling my cardigan more tightly around me.

“No, we always celebrated for Sage’s sake, even when it was hard,” Grey says, coming from the opposite direction. He and Sage are pushing a giant sleigh outfitted with lights.

“Like this?” My voice pitches higher than normal.

“When I was old enough to understand it.” Sage is wearing a Christmas sweater that actually jingles. “But the uncles always hired someone else to do it. Uncle Brax insisted we do it ourselves this year.”

I spin in a circle. “But…where is he?”

Grey laughs. It’s such a foreign sound it startles me, which is sad because he has a nice laugh—friendly, happy, kind, and completely at odds with the attitude he presents to the world.

“He and Pops are working on the inside,” Sage says. The kid is bouncing on his toes.

“Guys, Christmas is tomorrow. You’re doing all this work for one day?”

“Talk to your boyfriend,” Cian says again, then leans down to plug something into the extension cord. “I think he truly believes he’s Santa Claus.”

“What the hell is that?” I don’t think my voice can go any higher.

“A twenty-foot snowman.” Grey chuckles.

Is he drunk? He must be drunk.

Sage runs up the porch steps, opens the door, and shouts, “She’s here.”

The interior of the inn falls dark a second later.

“Come on,” Sage says, waving wildly in my direction.

“Humor him.” Grey stuns me with a magnificent smile.

Not knowing what else to do, I allow Sage to lead me inside. Once he has me where he wants me, he counts to three.

Before I can adjust to the darkness, I’m blinded once again.

Christmas lights are everywhere I look. But it’s the ten-foot Murray cypress tree in the corner that has my heart stutter-stepping on my lungs. The scent of pine and cinnamon carries my imagination to what I always dreamed the holiday could be once I moved in with Pops and Grams. And even then, it was never like this.

Stockings hang on the mantel that’s decorated with snowman nutcrackers and snow globes that light up and spin glitter all around. Each stocking is embroidered with one of our names in gold lettering. There’s one for everyone, even Keela.

I peer down the hall. Every inch of the place has been decorated.

“How? Where did you get all this stuff?”

“Amazon,” Pops calls proudly. I move through the space and find him in the dining room that’s now open to the den.

“Oh my God. It’s all done.”

The intricate crown molding looks brand new. The floors are so shiny they reflect all the colored lights.

“Not all done.” Braxton stands in the doorway. “The first floor is done, but the furniture Elle picked out won’t be here for a couple of weeks.”

The den is packed full of camping mattresses and sleeping bags. A quick count tells me there’s nine of them, and a twin cot is pushed up against one wall.

“What’s going on here?”

“We’re making new memories,” Braxton says.

“It was all his idea.” Elle walks in the door, wearing Keela, with Clover following behind, carrying a bunch of bags.

My lungs feel tight, and my chest flutters as though it’s about to have a panic attack. “What do you mean? What’s happening here?”

“Everyone you care about is here, Madison.” The warmth in Braxton’s tone makes my heartbeat feel heavy against my chest. “Everyone who loves you wants to start a new tradition, create new memories, here with you.”

“We’re all sleeping here? Over there?”

“That’s right,” Cian grumbles. “Instead of sleeping in my king-sized bed, we’re going to cram onto thin little mattresses and wake you all up every two hours when Keela cries.”

Elle swats him in the gut.

He grunts. “And we’re so happy to do it.”

“But why?” My chin wobbles, but I have no hope of controlling it.

“Because from here on out, holidays will mean more than what we’ve lost.” Braxton watches from across the room, and I feel his gaze tracking every inhale I take. “They’ll be a celebration of life and love. Ace wanted me to find happiness in Happiness, Georgia. And I’m going to spend every day making sure those I love experience it too.”

“Aw, mate. Ya love us. How sweet,” Cian teases. “Where’s the eggnog?”

It’s as if that one question puts the party in motion. People move all around me while I’m still trying to catch up.

Elle and Clover set up some sort of folding crib in the den while Grey hands out mugs of eggnog and spiked cider—he’s definitely been imbibing in his creations for some time. Sage finishes hanging the garland that Pops was working on, and I can hear Savvy banging around in the kitchen, so I finally snap out of it and go to help her.

The kitchen…

“What happened in here?”

It’s brand new and so much better than I could have imagined, but every available surface is covered in pans, tinfoil-covered items, and mixing bowls. There’s so much stuff I can’t imagine there’s even one kitchen item not in use at the moment.

Savvy stands upright with a guilty expression lining her beautiful face. Her hair is falling out of its braid, and her cheeks are flushed.

As I stare at her, her gaze keeps darting from me to something over my shoulder, and when I turn, I find Grey smirking in our direction over a mug of cider.

“Oh my⁠—”

“Don’t say it.” Savvy practically jumps over the counter to shush me. “I got stuck cooking with him all day. That’s it.”

“That’s it? Savvy, your leggings are inside out. And your hair is…”

“Fine. Fine. I don’t want to talk about it. Help me get the ham out of the oven.”

“Ham?”

“Yeah, Braxton decided we’d have ham on Christmas Eve and turkey with a crown lamb thing on Christmas. That’s all him though. I’m not cut out for this shit.”

“But why?”

The kitchen is an absolute disaster. It’s as messy as my mind right now.

Christmas music begins to play softly from the ceiling.

“He put in surround sound. Isn’t that cool?” Savvy is obviously desperate to keep the topic of conversation off herself.

It’s just as well—I don’t have room for anything else in my head at the moment.

She wraps me in a crushing hug. “This is for all of us, hon. I don’t know if one person in this house has ever had…” She pulls away and waves around the room. “This. A house full of love. He’s trying to give it to us all.”

“Braxton.”

“Yeah. He’s head over heels for you.”

“He is?” I’m still in a state of shock.

“Yep, so snap out of it and enjoy this gift.” She physically shakes me to get my attention.

“You’re right. Sorry. It’s just…”

“A lot. I get it.”

“Yeah. What didn’t you and Grey get up to in here?”

Her face pales.

“I mean food-wise, you pervert, though I hope whatever else you got up to wasn’t near any food. I love you, but that’s disgusting.”

She laughs uncomfortably but doesn’t confirm or deny anything.

“Savvy,” I hiss.

“We didn’t. I didn’t. The food is safe,” she rambles, then turns toward the oven. As soon as she opens the door, nostalgia wafts around me.

“It’s Maisie’s recipe. Pops found it in a box of kitchen stuff,” she explains. The scent of maple syrup makes my mouth water. “Can you mash the taters? The recipe calls for four sticks of butter. Four. I’m going to gain a hundred pounds before New Year’s.”

“It’s how Pops likes them,” I say, finally getting on board with the night.

Savvy was right. This is a gift. It might be the most meaningful gift I’ve ever been given, and Braxton knew me well enough to know that this was exactly what I needed.

I am truly and completely in love with that man.

“I can’t believe they got the fireplace to work,” I muse, staring into the crackling fire. “We’ve used the gas insert for years now.”

I’m sitting between Braxton’s legs on one of the camping cushions, and everyone I love is in a semicircle around the expanded fireplace. It’s truly a work of art. The stonework goes all the way to the ceiling, and the hearth is made of stacked stone.

I couldn’t have dreamed something so perfect.

“One of the first things they did after fixing all structural elements was rebuild the fireplace. If you go upstairs, you can see it’s still exposed but fully functional,” Cian says. He stands next to the fire, swaying side to side with Keela in his arms.

“It’s really beautiful,” I tell Braxton and nuzzle my cheek against the arm he has draped across my shoulders.

“That was all Elle. She had a very clear vision for this place.”

“Not me,” Elle says. “I just knew what would make my girl happy.”

Braxton leans into me and presses his lips to my ear. “And what my girl wants, my girl gets.”

I pinch his arm.

“Ouch. What was that for?”

“I’m not convinced I haven’t dreamed this whole thing up.”

He chuckles, and the sound rolls down my back like a gentle caress. “Sweetheart, you’re supposed to pinch yourself.”

I smirk. “Next time.”

We fall into silence, listening to the conversations happening all around us. They’re loud, and happy, and all mine.

“This might be my favorite memory,” I murmur, not really expecting anyone to answer.

But I should know better when Braxton is around. Something deep in my gut tells me he’ll always hear me.

“I hope this is only the first in a long line of happy memories, sunshine.”

Settling back into his chest, I exhale the sadness that has followed me for years. But this time, when I turn to kiss Braxton, something on the wall catches my attention. Actually, it’s two somethings that steal all the air from my lungs.

I stand silently and step closer to the wall. I feel Braxton’s heat at my back, but he doesn’t say anything. He allows me the time to work through the feelings assaulting me.

“It’s, that’s me and—and Elle, before I moved here. A different photo used to hang here,” I say.

“Pops told me. I thought maybe one of someone who loved you would be a better memory than the one of your parents.”

We’re sitting on a swing Pops had hung from the tree out front. We’re staring at each other, our heads thrown back in laughter—we were only seven or eight here. It makes my heart so happy even as a tear slips down my cheek.

“It’s perfect. Really, it’s perfect.” I stare at it for a long moment, my finger tracing the memory, then move to the one next to it.

The girl is a younger female version of Grey.

“That’s Violet,” he says.

“She’s beautiful. And she looked so happy. I love that you did this.”

He pulls my back into his front and kisses the top of my head. “I want our lives to meld together, Madison. And I thought that maybe the first step was linking our trauma in a way that brought happy memories instead of sad. Violet loved to laugh, and your friends were here for you when you felt like you couldn’t. She would have loved you, and them.”

“This is all… I don’t know what to say, Braxton. I’m standing here, staring at a picture of my childhood before my parents threw me away and not sobbing. I don’t know that this has ever happened before.”

I spin in his hold and link my arms around his neck. He has to bend down a few inches for me to clasp my hands together, but he does it on instinct.

“The inn, you, all of it. How do I even thank you for this?”

His smile is lazy, and love shines in his amber gaze. “I have a few ideas, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. And honestly, you already have. You made me want to live for love, not just live to exist. That’s more than I can ever return.”

“Get over here, you lovebirds,” Grey calls cheerily.

“Is he drunk?”

Braxton chuckles. “I think so. But he’s happy, so I’m not going to stop him.”

I look across the room. Grey is more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. “How do we get him to live that way all the time without copious amounts of alcohol?”

“Time. We just have to give him time. I think Happiness will change him too, but he has to be ready for it.”

Grey presses a button on a remote in his hand, and a large screen descends from the ceiling.

“It’s for TV,” Braxton explains. “There’s a tiny projector in the wall over there.” He points to a wall as we walk back to our mats.

“Best Christmas movie of all time?” Grey asks the room.

The guys all say Die Hard, while the women say It’s a Wonderful Life.

“Girls win.” Savvy crosses the room to take the remote that Grey holds out of reach. “There are more of us, so we choose.”

He leans into her and whispers something that has her straightening, but she still demands the remote with an open palm. When Grey stands upright, he’s wearing a smirk I think is going to cause us a ton of trouble in the near future.

“It’s a Wonderful Life it is,” Grey says jovially, then swaggers to his spot on the floor.

Swaggers.

Savvy huffs as she searches for an open mat, but the only one available is the one next to Grey.

Grey pats the spot next to him, and Cian chuckles. “Good Lord. It’s going to be a long night.”

As if on cue, Keela lets out an ear-piercing shriek, and he hands her off to Elle, who wraps a blanket around one shoulder and begins to nurse.

Braxton and I settle into our spots on the floor, and moments later, he’s snoring.

He really is trying to give me a wonderful life, and I might be at a place in my life to finally accept it.