Page 44 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

DEAN

“Oh, there’s my parents,” Portia said.

She was blowing me off. I didn’t blame her. “I’ll see you later.”

“No, come with me,” she said.

“Why?”

“Why not?” she asked. “You said you were thirsty. Let’s get a drink.”

Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting across from Portia’s parents at a folding table, a plate of BBQ in front of me, and Portia at my side. It was hard to resist the ribs Old Man Wilson made every year. Alexis was there too, along with her parents. These were people I had grown up with. Pillars of the community.

Except I was never a pillar. I was the kid that lived in the house with the troublemakers in town. The house with the overgrown yard and at least three cars parked out front. Of course, none of the cars ran. My parents loved to drink and smoke and had zero qualms about being obnoxious. Twenty years ago, I would never have been invited to sit at the table with these good people. Unless it was out of pity. I knew most of the adults knew my parents were losers. They always tried to help me and Sean out. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d been invited to church or Sunday dinner. It was all charity. Back then, I resented it. Now, I understood. They were good folks just trying to lend a hand.

The vibes around the table were good—light, easygoing, the kind of casual atmosphere I usually avoided. But for some reason, I didn’t mind it tonight. It was nice not to have to keep my guard up. None of these people had their hands out. They were all just enjoying some ribs.

I reached for the pitcher of water, topping off everyone’s glasses. Alexis gave me a playful smirk as I filled hers.

“Look at you, playing host,” she said, her tone teasing. “Who knew Dean Jackson had such manners?”

I shot her a look, but I couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at my lips. “Don’t get used to it.”

Alexis laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, I won’t. But I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.”

I liked her edge. She was unashamedly herself, and in a town full of people who cared too much about what others thought, that was refreshing. I realized she had a hiccup and nearly succumbed to the bullshit, but something changed. She was letting her light shine through.

The ribs were good—smoky, tender, falling off the bone. I wiped my hands on the cheap paper napkin, but it didn’t do much against the sticky glaze. Portia was laughing at something her dad said, her fingers just as messy as mine. She caught me looking and held up her hands, wiggling her fingers like some kind of BBQ monster.

“Dean, you’ve got sauce on your cheek,” Alexis said, pointing at me with a grin. I reached up, missed the spot entirely, and she rolled her eyes. “Other side, genius.”

Portia leaned over, her own bib crinkling as she grabbed a napkin and swiped at my face. “There. Fixed.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, feeling odd. It was such a casual gesture, but it felt like she’d just shone her inner light on me for a few brief seconds. It left me with a weird, funny feeling inside my chest.

Her mom was chatting about the weather, how it’d been unseasonably dry this year. “Hope we get some rain soon,” she said, picking at her cornbread. “The lake’s lower than usual.”

“It’s good for the speedboats,” Portia’s dad joked, his bib already stained beyond saving. “Less weeds to get caught in the propellers.”

Alexis snorted. “Yeah, but it’s terrible for the fishing,” she said, leaning forward. “Dad and I went out last weekend, and the bass were practically ignoring the lures. It’s like they’re on strike.”

Portia’s dad chuckled. “Maybe they’re just smarter than we give them credit for.”

“Or lazier,” I added, earning a laugh from the table. It felt strange, participating in this kind of easy banter. I wasn’t used to it. Most of my conversations were either about business or brief exchanges with Seth, usually laced with some kind of tension. This was different. Nice, even.

Portia’s dad cleared his throat, drawing my attention as he wiped his mouth. “You still working on bikes?” he asked.

“Always.”

Portia’s mom smiled. “The empire you built from your passion is truly impressive. Few people get to do what they love. And fewer people get to do it and build such a successful business.”

I shrugged, not sure how to respond to the compliment. “Pays the bills.”

Everyone at the table knew I had zero trouble paying my bills. I wasn’t even sure how much money I had. I stopped paying a lot of attention once I crossed into the nine-figure realm. I figured anything after that was just money in the bank. I would never spend it all. All I knew was my bikes made people happy, and it made me happy to build them.

Her dad studied me for a moment, then glanced at Portia. “Didn’t expect to see you two spending so much time together.”

Portia smiled. “We’re just catching up. Dean is one of the few people who doesn’t mind hanging out with the talk of the town.”