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

I saw the change in her as soon as she recognized the scumbag who waltzed up behind her as if he had every right to be there—to touch her.

The worry lines that mar her beautiful face on a daily basis had finally disappeared. She looked free, and happy, and so fucking perfect my chest actually ached.

Then that Harry Turd slithered his way up against her and everything changed. Her expression nearly gutted me. In an instant, I saw that the pain, fear, and betrayal she carries is bone-deep, and I have no doubt that fucker was the one to cause it.

Savvy saw him before I did, but my body was propelled toward Madison as if by magic. And now that she’s in my arms, I wonder how I’ll ever let her go.

Me, the guy who has only ever trusted his best friend.

Me, the man who didn’t know what he was missing out on until she fell into his lap.

This can’t be healthy, the obsession I have over my innkeeper, but the longer I spend in Happiness, the more the parts of my life that I’ve felt drowning me loosen their grip.

“We all have a past, Madison. It’s okay to leave him there.”

She stares at me with watery eyes, and when a tear slips free, I catch it with my thumb. The drop melts into my skin, filling me with a desire to make sure she never cries again.

Jesus, maybe Savvy drugged me. That would make more sense than the shit flying through my mind.

Madison nods, sending an electric shock through my unsteady pulse. What did he do to her that turns my strong, stubborn woman into a meek, sad girl?

The song ends and a new one begins with a slower beat that has her relaxing into my hold. But when she rests her head against my chest, I think I might explode because nothing, and I mean nothing, has ever felt this right.

“Do you know how to dance?” she asks. When she tilts her head back to look up at me, my heart melts. Those goddamn lessons my mother made me take in high school might actually come in handy.

“I’m a fast learner.”

The smile she graces me with breaks the rest of the tension her ex caused.

She raises her brow and nods toward everyone else on the dance floor. People have partnered up and are moving in a circle to a song that it seems they all know.

“It’s ‘I’ll Be Your Small Town,’” she says as I sweep her into the circle of people.

Holding her hand, I spin her so her arms are outstretched until she gasps, then I pull her back into my chest and watch as the light reenters her face.

“I accept,” I say, using my hand pressed into her back to guide her around the dance floor.

I dip her low, with our faces only inches apart.

“You accept what?” She laughs.

“You can be my small town. I accept.”

Madison’s laughter rings out over the music, and I can’t be sure, but I’m willing to bet that every person in this bar is praying to hear that sound again.

Scooping her into my arms, I hold her close, loving how our bodies fit together.

“I meant that’s the name of the song.” The light, tinkling sound of her voice as she laughs at me is a drug, and I’m already searching for my next hit.

My hands fall to her hips, and I lift her into the air, so we’re face-to-face. “I know what you meant, and I meant what I said.” I slowly lower her to the floor and love that her face flushes red as I do.

The pulse in her throat explodes, and it hits me then—I’m happy. Not the kind of happy my parents expected of me. Not the kind of happy I thought I was when fulfilling my role as the heir to my grandfather’s fortune, but the kind of happy that is so pure nothing can taint it.

The song changes again, the beat faster, and everyone steps into lines as they hop and jump into a dance.

“You’re a fast learner, huh?” Madison laughs.

I take a moment to watch as she taps the toe of her boot behind her, stomps on the floorboards, hops twice, swings her hips in time with her hand in the air, and then spins to face the other wall.

I wait until she spins again so she can see me next to her, and I jump right into the line dance.

I’m terrible. Truly and embarrassingly horrid, but I throw my entire body into it just to hear her laugh.

The guy on my other side taps my shoulder, and when I face him, he’s laughing too. “Follow the person in front of you. It’s four steps. You’ll get it.”

Knowing that people are staring at me is something that would have sent me into hiding anywhere else, but here, I let go and laugh right along with them if for no other reason than I’m standing by Madison’s side.

Just when I get the dance down, the damn song changes, and so do the moves, but I stay by Madison’s side, dancing like an idiot until I’m a sweaty mess, and she’s so carefree you’d think I had harnessed all the shooting stars to make her wishes come true.

“I need a drink,” she says, falling into my side when the music slows and people pair off again.

“One more dance.” I capture her hand. “Then I’ll get you whatever you want. I promise.”

Her smile falters so briefly I would have missed it if I wasn’t so focused on learning every inch of her face. But then she nods and steps into my space, places her cheek against my chest, and rocks in time with me as if this is the only place she’s meant to be.

I have no idea how long we’ve been dancing, but now that we’re barely moving, I notice that the crowd has thinned out. Clover and Savvy sit happily at the bar giggling with each other while Elle leans against Cian O’Brien, who I saw again at the hardware store on my fourth time in there.

Others have taken up tables in corners. But straight ahead, puffed as a peacock with his arms crossed over his disgusting beer belly, is Harry Turd, glaring at me as though he’s plotting my murder.

I raise my brow when I catch him staring on our second spin, and though his curses don’t reach our ears, I can tell by the spittle flying that he’s going to be a problem—for me. I’ll do whatever I can to keep that fucker away from Madison.

My Madison.

“Let’s get you that drink,” I say when Turd takes a step in our direction. The sooner I can get her to the bar with her friends, the easier it’ll be to protect her if he turns out to be a bigger prick than I expect.

When Madison Ryan slips her hand into mine and allows me to lead her through the bar, I know I’m going to fall for her.

We reach her friends, and I can tell by Savvy’s expression that we’re being followed. With one hand at Madison’s back, I usher her to the bar in between her two friends who immediately angle their legs to box her in.

The only person who has ever protected me that way is Grey. Madison has an army at her side. I’m not jealous—envious maybe, because the love these people have for each other is something I haven’t seen much of in my life.

Out of the corner of my eye, I recognize a couple of guys heading in my direction. On my other side, a group of football players, including Ethan and Trevon, are closing in too.

Fuck me. Are they all about to beat my ass for dancing with Madison?

“I don’t have time for this.” I groan to the ceiling, then square my shoulders and turn toward Turd.

Within seconds, I’m flanked on either side as a human wall of protection is formed.

“We’ve got you, Mr. Brax,” Ethan murmurs.

On my other side, Cian rumbles something deep in his chest. He’s about my age but a mountain of a man who makes my 6’4’ frame seem small.

“We haven’t seen Madi this happy in years. You hurt her, and we’ll gut you faster than a fish and feed you to the pigs,” he growls.

I chuckle until I realize he isn’t joking. “I’m glad she has all of you.”

“He’s an oxygen thief who can’t take a hint.” Cian nods in the direction of Madison’s ex.

Turd stops a few steps away, and both Ethan and Cian nudge me forward with their elbows.

Well, I guess this is my fight now. At least they know I’m better than this asshole.

I rest my hands on my hips and wait. I’m not a fighter, but I can hold my own and I know how to handle egos like this—I’ve been doing it my entire life. If I give him enough time, he’ll stick his foot in his mouth before I have to do anything.

“You going to say anything?” he snarls.

I shrug. “I’m not the one with the problem.” Making a show of glancing left, then right, I ask, “Any of you have a problem?”

About ten heads shake no.

“Only with that gobshite.” Cian’s voice booms over the music that slowly lowers to a whisper.

Remind me to never get on his bad side.

“Fuck off, Cian. You taking this dipshit’s side shows what a traitor you really are. And you boys, I’m your fucking coach. Show some respect.”

“Respectfully, Mr. Harry, you’re our ball boy,” Trevon deadpans. “You haven’t been able to…coach in years.”

“I’m on the fucking coaching staff,” Turd bellows.

My side sizzles when a tiny hand lands there, then pushes me aside.

Madison barrels in between me and Cian. I reach out for her and only manage to fist the waistband of her skirt, but it’s enough to slow her down so I can step in line with her.

Unfortunately, it does nothing to calm down her ex.

“What are you doing with him, Mads? I told ya I came back for you. We can work this out.” He’s so drunk he sways in place, and when he attempts to reach out for her, I tug her back by her belt loops.

It is probably all kinds of inappropriate for me to be fisting the top of her skirt like a caveman, but it’s also keeping me from swinging at a man for the first time in my life, so I don’t worry too much about it.

With her left hand, Madison reaches around and covers my fist with her own until I’m calm enough to release it, then she steps forward again and pokes her ex in the chest with her other hand.

I’ve been here long enough to know that Madison never sticks up for herself. She’s a people pleaser to her core, so she’s either had one too many cocktails or something has given her the confidence to fight back tonight.

It’s incredibly arrogant to think that I may have something to do with it, but it doesn’t stop me from hoping.

“You came back after six months, Harry. Six freaking months, only to return with excuses and not a single apology. And let’s not even discuss the lies you told, the damage you caused, or the fact that you skipped town so you wouldn’t have to face the repercussions of your actions—both times.”

“Mads—”

“Don’t,” she growls. “Don’t you Mads me. You see this?” She points to the line of men and women who have closed ranks around her. “They’re doing this, protecting me, because every person in this town knows you’re a liar, a cheat, and a miserable excuse for a human being. They were the ones here protecting me. Picking me up off the bathroom floor when I was convulsing from crying and being too scared to leave my house. They’re here for me because you’ve burned all these bridges one too many times. Even Cian stayed with you for a week to help get you sober, and he can’t stand you. And how did you repay him?”

“Fucking oxygen thief locked me in a bedroom so he could get beer,” Cian grinds out. His entire body appears to be made from stone. “You really are a twat. Move along, Harry. She’s not your girl anymore.”

“And she’s his?” the oxygen thief slurs.

Pulling Madison to my side, I step right up to this drunk bully. “Madison is her own woman. She doesn’t belong to anyone but herself. And while I’d love nothing more than to sit here and watch her berate you for another twenty minutes, you’re drunk, and we’re trying to have a good time, so why don’t you do us all a favor and head home.”

I barely get the last word out when he swings wildly. My entire focus shifts to tugging Madison out of the way, which means I allow his fist to connect with the right side of my face to ensure her safety. As soon as I know Trevon has her, I block the next hit—thank you, Ace, for making Greyson and I take so many years of self-defense courses.

Before I can hit back, all hell breaks loose. Savvy grunts like an animal as she attempts to knee Turd in the balls while Cian is holding him by his arms and dragging him toward the front door.

“Sav. Knock it off.” Cian chuckles. “Call the sheriff instead.”

The noise in the bar escalates until I can’t hear a word Madison is saying, even when I hitch at the waist and put my ear to her lips.

As the beast of a man drags out the belligerent jerk, people spin in their chairs and curse him out. There doesn’t seem to be one person in this place on his side.

My instinct is to feel bad for the guy, but I know that whatever he did to garner this kind of reaction in his hometown had to have been much worse than anything I can currently dream up.

“Braxton.” I barely catch my name but focus my attention on the woman before me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, thankful that with Cian outside, the angry voices are dying out. Slowly, the music filters back into my conscience.

“Me?” She scrunches up her nose and stares at me as though I’m not making any sense. I’ve never seen Madison pissed off. Not really. But the fire in her expression now could burn a man. “You’re the one who got punched in the face. Are you okay?”

“Mads?” the bartender calls.

She turns toward the voice and then catches a bag of ice out of midair with one hand.

“Come on, we’re leaving.” Madison takes my hand and leads me through the crowd.

Am I imagining it, or are people smirking and giving me not-so-subtle thumbs up as we pass them?

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Charlie. Grow up,” she says to a younger man who is definitely flashing two thumbs up in our direction. “Braxton, give me your keys.”

“Madison.”

She doesn’t listen and simply continues toward the door.

I glance behind us to see Savvy and Clover shimming in place and shooing me along.

“Don’t the girls need a ride home?” I ask.

“No, Cian doesn’t drink. He’ll drive them.”

“An Irishman who doesn’t drink?”

She stops at the door and lowers her chin to her chest. I can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying, so I usher her into a corner, then lift her face to mine.

I still have no idea if she’s laughing or crying. Her expression is…lost.

“Keys,” she demands again.

“Sweetheart, you’ve had at least two drinks. You can’t drive tonight.”

She stomps her foot and frowns. It’s so fucking cute I want to kiss every inch of her pouty face.

“Shoot,” she mutters. “I forgot. Freaking Harry⁠—”

“Hush. We don’t say that name around here.” The right corner of my lip twitches when she looks up at me. “It’s Harry Turd or oxygen thief from here on out.”

Madison’s face lights up our tiny corner of the bar when she smiles brightly. “That’s been Cian’s favorite insult since high school.”

“It’s a good one. It’s definitely been entered into my vernacular.”

“He’ll be so proud. Seriously, though. Are you okay?” she asks, holding up the bag of ice.

My jaw is swelling, and my cheek is on fire, but I don’t tell her that.

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

Flashing red and blue lights roll through the windows of the bar, and she groans.

“Does this happen a lot?” I ask.

“He’s…he doesn’t like to lose.”

“How long has he been bothering you?”

Madison shrugs, then takes my hand in hers again and tugs me outside where we find Cian sitting on Turd’s back while the officer cuffs him.

I stop to stare at him and laugh out loud. “Cian’s having a good time.”

“You have no idea how much pleasure this brings him,” she says quietly. “Cian was a late bloomer when he moved here in high school. This is him getting revenge on his high school rival.”

“Nice.” I chuckle.

We stand against the brick wall of the bar as another officer approaches. “You who he hit?”

I nod.

“You want to press charges?”

I look to Madison, who shrugs. “It’s up to you. I don’t think it’ll make a difference either way.”

“Can I think about it? I want to get her home.”

The older woman closes her notebook with a snap. “You’re a good egg. Take care of our girl. If you decide to press charges, just come down to the station.” She hands me a card, and I slip it into my back pocket.

“Thanks,” I say. “Madison? You ready?”

She nods. “Cian, can you get the girls home safely?”

He gives her a two-finger salute as if he isn’t sitting on top of a pissed-off donkey.

He and I should get along just fine.