Page 38 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

DEAN

The shop was quiet. Just the hum of the overhead fan as I sorted through a stack of invoices. I hated paperwork. Always had. It felt like a waste of time when there were bikes to build and engines to tune. But business was business, and even I couldn’t ignore it forever.

The rest of the staff had the day off. The festival was basically a holiday around town. I wanted the guys to have the time with their families. People thought I was an asshole. I probably was, but that didn’t mean I didn’t appreciate families.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms above my head. The festival was going strong down by the lake. I could hear the faint strains of music drifting through the open bay doors. Normally, I wouldn’t give a damn about something like that. Festivals, parades, town gatherings—all just excuses for people to stick their noses in each other’s business. But this year was different. This year, she was back.

I had plans to do my paperwork and go home to my solitary life. But there was something pulling me back to the beach and the park. Not something, someone.

I finished up my paperwork and stood. I had two options. Go home, crack a beer, and maybe go for a swim in the lake. Or go home, shower, and head back to the festival.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

I grabbed my keys off the workbench and headed out. The drive home was short, but it gave me too much time to think. I didn’t like thinking. Thinking led to decisions, and decisions led to complications. And I’d had enough of those to last a lifetime.

By the time I pulled into my driveway, I’d already convinced myself this was a bad idea. But my feet carried me inside anyway, like they had a mind of their own. I stripped off my sweat-stained shirt and headed for the shower. The water scalded my skin. I scrubbed and rinsed.

I stood there longer than I needed to, letting the steam fill the room until it was almost suffocating. I turned down the heat to a lukewarm spray. When I finally stepped out, I caught a glimpse of myself in the fogged-up mirror. My reflection looked back at me with the same tired eyes I’d been seeing for years. I ran a hand through my damp hair, messing it up even more, and sighed. I felt like I was in a rut. Same shit, different day.

Dressing was automatic. A clean pair of shorts, a black shirt, and sneakers. I didn’t bother with anything fancy. This wasn’t a date. But maybe I was hoping things could end with a kiss.

“No,” I murmured.

That was not going to happen. I had my chance with her. I shut it down because I knew it would just lead to complications. I didn’t want to get mixed up with a woman I was pretty certain would get under my skin if I let her.

My sense of self-preservation was strong. I was the only one looking out for me. That meant I guarded my heart like it was Fort Knox.

I decided to walk to the festival in case I did decide to have a beer or two. With the number of people in town, the police were going to be looking for those that were drinking and driving. I smelled the festival before I heard it. It felt strange to be headed to the busy park.

I hated these things. Too many people. Too much noise. Too many eyes on me.

But here I was, walking onto the festival grounds, already regretting every decision that led me to this moment. The Lake Festival was exactly the kind of chaos I usually avoided. Boats lined the shore, some anchored out in the lake with music blasting from their speakers. Kids ran past with dripping ice cream cones, teenagers tossed a football near the docks, and the scent of BBQ and fried food filled the air.

The beach was packed, the sand dotted with colorful umbrellas and blankets. Families lounged in the sun, kids splashed in the water, and vendors lined the grassy area above the shore, selling everything from handmade jewelry to funnel cakes. The stage I’d helped build was set up near the water. A local band was playing, their music drifting over everyone. A small crowd was gathered in front of the stage. There were blankets spread out with moms trying to corral toddlers.

People were dressed in their best summer outfits—floral dresses, shorts, and tank tops. The energy was infectious. Everyone was laughing and talking. People were enjoying corn dogs, nachos, and the messiest burgers ever. It was a full-blown affair, the kind of event the town looked forward to all year.

And I hated every second of it.

Clearly, I was a glutton for punishment. I could have stayed home. No one was forcing me to be here. This was my choice. And I refused to acknowledge why I dragged myself out of the comfort and cool of my home to be in this chaos.

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my khaki cargo shorts. I scanned the crowd and told myself I was just getting a feel for the place. Not looking for anyone in particular. But then I saw her.

Portia was standing near the food tents, laughing at something Alexis said. She was holding a drink in one hand, the wind tugging at the hem of her sundress. She looked lighter. Happier. Like she belonged here. Like she never left.

I barely had time to process that thought before Seth appeared at my side, grinning.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” Seth took a drink from what he was trying to pass off as cola. I could smell the rum in it. “What, finally decided to be social?”

I ignored him, my eyes still on Portia. “Stay out of trouble for once, huh?”

Seth laughed. “No promises.” Then he nodded toward Portia. “She looks good, doesn’t she?”

I gritted my teeth. “What’s your deal with her?” I asked.

Yes, I was trying to feel him out. If he was going to make a play for her, I wanted to know. And I would absolutely tell him to back off. He was not good enough for her. Never had been. Back in the day, she thought he hung the moon. He treated her like shit then and I knew he would be an absolute asshole to her now. He treated women like toys, and he didn’t treat his toys well.

Seth smirked. “Want to make a friendly wager about who can get her into bed first?”