Page 90 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

Mr. Callahan handed me the lease with a wink. “Your dad already combed through it. Says it’s solid.”

Alexis appeared out of nowhere, camera in hand. “Smile for posterity!”

I groaned. “You’re ridiculous.”

But I posed anyway, holding the pen dramatically over the signature line. The shutter clicked, capturing the moment my dream became official. One signature, and this space was mine.

Dad kissed my forehead after I signed. “Proud of you,” he murmured before heading out.

Alexis and I walked inside. The door was propped open to allow the delivery men to bring in the boxes. I had dipped into my savings with the hope it paid off. If not, I was going to be moving in with Mom and Dad. I really didn’t want that.

Alexis popped open a bottle of champagne with a celebratory pop! “To the new queen of real estate!”

I laughed. “From your lips to God’s ears,” I said. “With that article in the paper, failure is not an option. They will laugh me right out of town.”

“You’re not going to fail.” She pulled a couple plastic glasses from her bag. She gave them to me to hold while she poured.

“To new beginnings,” I said.

We clinked glasses just as the door swung open again.

Dean stood there, toolbox in hand, looking unfairly good in a pair of khaki shorts and a black T-shirt with his business logo on the front.

“Hi,” I said with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Figured you might need a hand putting together all the fancy furniture you ordered,” he said, eyeing the stack of boxes. “Unless you were planning to do it yourself?”

I grinned. “And let you rob me of watching you get all sweaty putting my office together? No chance.”

Alexis whooped. “I’m leaving before this turns into foreplay.”

I laughed. “Thank you for being here. And the champagne.”

“You guys keep the champagne,” she said. “Maybe invest in some blinds for the window.” She looked at Dean once again and clucked her tongue. “You’re a lucky woman, Portia Watson.”

Dean just smirked as she fled.

“Sorry,” I said. “No filter. Want some champagne?”

He looked at it like I was offering him mud.

“Sorry, not your thing.”

“Not so much,” he said.

“Are you really here to help?”

“Of course,” he said.

“You’re pretty amazing.” I stepped into his arms and gave him a kiss.

It was brief but electric. A promise of more to come. When I pulled back, he was looking at me with those piercing blue eyes, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips like he knew exactly what that kiss had done to me.

“Are you really ready to play handyman?”

“I’ll play whatever you want,” he said in a husky voice.

“Hmm,” I said, raking my eyes over him. “You in a toolbelt. Shirtless. I could absolutely get down with that.”