Page 78 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

PORTIA

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, holding up one bikini after another, each one feeling more ridiculous than the last. The turquoise one made me look like I was trying too hard, the black one felt like I was auditioning for a spy movie, and the pink floral? Way too perky. I groaned, tossing them all on the bed in frustration. Why was this so hard? It wasn’t like Dean would care what I was wearing. If anything, he’d probably grunt something dismissive and then ignore me entirely.

Or strip it off me.

Still, I couldn’t help but want to make an impression. Not that I’d admit that out loud. I rummaged through the pile again, pulling out a simple navy-blue set with white trim. Classic. Understated. Not trying too hard. I slipped it on and adjusted the straps, turning to check myself in the mirror. Okay, this might work. It hugged my curves without being flashy, and the color brought out my eyes. Not that Dean would notice.

He was a boob man. He’d definitely be looking at my boobs and the bikini was the kind that pushed things up and together. My tits looked great in the thing.

I grabbed a lightweight cover-up from the closet and pulled it on. My favorite cut-off jean shorts were resting on the bed. I pulled them on and then slipped on my sexy, strappy sandals.

My tote was already packed with sunscreen, a towel, and a book I probably wouldn’t read. My stomach fluttered as I glanced at the clock. Dean had texted me and told me to meet him at the dock at five.

I stepped outside and put on my sunglasses. He was down by the dock wearing a pair of shorts and his typical black T-shirt. I took a moment to just watch him load an ice chest on the boat. I took a deep breath and made my way down the gravel path toward the dock. Dean didn’t look up as I approached, his focus entirely on the rigging.

“Hey,” I called out, trying to sound casual.

He glanced up briefly, his piercing blue eyes locking on me for just a moment. “Hey.”

So much for a warm greeting. I stepped onto the dock, the wood creaking softly under my weight. “Need any help?”

“Got it,” he said curtly, hoisting the cooler into the boat with ease.

Gone was the man that I had woken up with this morning. He was back to his old self.

“Look, if you don’t want to go out, that’s fine,” I said. “I’ve got a book to read.”

Dean finally straightened up, wiping his hands on his shorts. “Sorry, just a lot on my mind. I do want to go out. I thought we’d head over to Crescent Cove. It’s quiet there.” His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was giving a report rather than inviting me on an outing.

“Sounds nice,” I said, forcing a smile.

I hoped his mood improved. A little time out on the boat with a little kissing and touching and maybe other things and he would be in much better spirits.

Dean helped me onto the boat and quickly untied it before stepping in. The engine roared to life. Dean stood at the wheel and carefully steered the boat away from the dock, the water churning behind us. I sat on the bench near the bow, letting the wind whip through my hair as we picked up speed. Dean stood at the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed on the horizon. He looked like a man carrying the weight of the world, and I wondered what had happened since this morning to put that storm in his eyes.

“Crescent Cove, huh?” I called over the noise of the engine, trying to break the tension. “I haven’t been there in years. Remember when we used to have bonfires there back in high school?”

“Mm,” he grunted, not even glancing my way.

Okay, so small talk wasn’t going to work. I shifted in my seat, pulling my cover-up tighter around me as the breeze picked up. The lake stretched out in all directions. It was beautiful, but the silence between us felt heavy, almost suffocating. I really hoped he was going to change his mood. I could be sitting at home alone making plans for the future.

I finally gave up on conversation and leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment. The sun warmed my skin. Dean wasn’t just grumpy—something was wrong. And if I knew him at all, he wasn’t going to talk about it unless he was good and ready.

We reached Crescent Cove a little while later, the boat slowing as we approached the secluded inlet. Dean cut the engine and dropped the anchor. The cove was just as I remembered it—quiet, shaded by trees, and relatively secluded.

I didn’t care what kind of mood he was in. This was heaven. This was the kind of moment I used to dream about during those endless New York nights. It was everything New York wasn’t—quiet, peaceful, real. The kind of moment that made my chest ache with how badly I’d needed it without even knowing. But the man at the helm wasn’t sharing my golden mood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or do I have to guess? I know you didn’t bring me out here so I could watch you brood.”

Dean exhaled and stepped away from the wheel. The sudden silence felt heavy as the boat drifted, rocking gently with the lake’s rhythm.

“Seth turned himself in today.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. “Oh, Dean…”

“Lawyer’s already lined up.” He rubbed a hand over his face like he was trying to wipe away the feelings. “It’s the right thing. Still feels like hell.”

I got up, swaying a little and reached for him. “Because you love him,” I said quietly. “It’s tough love. It’s the right move.”