Chapter 47
47
PORTIA
Earlier that night
I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing my hands over the white dress Alexis had made for me. The fabric was soft but structured, hugging my figure just enough to make a statement without screaming for attention. It was a version of a summer dress but just fancy enough to also serve as a gown for any black-tie occasion.
Alexis stepped back, her critical eye scanning me from head to toe. “You’re going to blow the room away,” she said finally, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. “No one will know what hit them.”
I turned to the side to check out my ass. “You sure? I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”
“Trying too hard?” Alexis threw her hands up. “Portia, you’re walking into that auction knowing exactly who you’re bidding on. If anything, you’re not trying hard enough. I would be showing way more cleavage.”
I shot her a glare in the mirror, but she just laughed. She had a point, though. I did know who I was bidding on—Dean Jackson. Again. And no matter how much I tried to play it cool in my head, my heart wasn’t fooled. It hadn’t stopped racing since I’d made the decision to go through with this.
“You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. Last year was… well, it was chaos. You guys have avoided each other all this time.”
“It’s time,” I said. “I hate doing this dance. Anytime we see each other on the street, we pretend we don’t. It’s better now that I moved out of the city limits and on the total opposite side of his place, but it’s still hard.”
“I know.” She nodded. “You guys haven’t talked at all?”
“Not really. I saw him at the grocery store once. He asked how I was doing and it was so weird.”
“Have you heard anything about his dating life?”
I shook my head. “Nope. As far as I know, he’s still single.”
She laughed. “If he’s not, his girlfriend is about to have some serious competition.”
“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” I asked.
“Portia, if he didn’t want to see you, he wouldn’t be avoiding you.”
I frowned. “That makes zero sense.”
She laughed. “Think about it. If he really didn’t care, he wouldn’t go out of his way to steer clear of you every time you’re in the same room. You don’t avoid something—or someone—if they mean nothing to you. You just exist around them. And Dean? He’s not just existing. He’s dodging. Big difference.”
I stared at her, her words sinking in. “So what does that mean?”
“It means he cares,” she said matter-of-factly. “Maybe too much. And maybe it scares him.”
I chewed on my lip, turning back to the mirror. The woman staring back at me looked confident, put together, like someone who knew what she wanted. But inside, I felt like a storm of uncertainty, all swirling questions and no answers.
“What if this is a mistake?” I whispered.
“Then it’s a mistake you need to make. But I don’t think it will be. Look, Portia, you’ve spent months trying to move on, but you haven’t really been able to, have you? And neither has he. Maybe it’s time to stop running from whatever this is and face it head on.”
I nodded slowly, letting her words settle over me. She was right. I couldn’t keep living in this weird limbo, pretending I didn’t care or that everything was fine when it wasn’t. Whether tonight ended in disaster or something else entirely, I needed to know. I needed to know if there was still something between us, or if I was clinging to a ghost of what might have been.
The drive to the auction was a blur of nerves and second-guessing. I thanked the Uber driver and climbed out. If things went well, I wouldn’t be leaving alone. If this whole silly plan blew up in my face, I would be going home in another Uber.
Inside, the room was already buzzing with energy. The air smelled faintly of wine and expensive perfume, and the low hum of conversation filled the space. I didn’t approach him. Instead, I found a spot near the back of the room and lay low. The servers were clearing tables. I had planned it that way. I didn’t want to have dinner. My goal was to sneak in at the last minute.
The auction started, but I stayed seated behind a very tall man. My palms were clammy. I wiped them discreetly on the side of my dress. I should’ve stayed home. Should let someone else win him. Anyone else.
But when his name was called and he stepped onto that stage—tall, brooding, and as unreadable as ever—something in me snapped. Maybe it was the way he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. Maybe it was the way his jaw tightened when the bidding started to climb. Or maybe it was the memory of him and what I thought could be and then never happened.
“One thousand to the lady in blue!”
“Twelve hundred from table nine!”
I took a deep breath and raised my hand.
“Twenty thousand.”
The room went silent.
Dean turned, his blue eyes locking onto mine like I was the only person in the room. The announcer’s gavel cracked. “Sold! To the determined lady in white!”
Applause erupted, but I barely heard it. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears it drowned out everything else. I’d done it. Again. Why? Stupid, stupid, stupid. That was what this was. Pure stupidity. My heart was pounding in my chest so hard I didn’t know if I was going to puke or pass out.
Dean was already striding toward me, ignoring the announcer calling after him for photos. The crowd parted for him like he was Moses at the Red Sea. I couldn’t move. My feet felt glued to the floor. Was he going to yell at me? Demand I withdraw my bid? Unlike last year, I did have the money. I had closed on a very high-end piece of property and my commission check was very, very good.
He stopped inches away, his breathing heavy.
“We have to stop running into each other this way,” I said, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
His lips parted. “What the hell?”
It wasn’t exactly what I hoped he would say. But then I saw it. It was a faint smile. With Dean, that was the equivalent of an ear-to-ear grin.
I shrugged, unable to stop my own smile. “Couldn’t miss my chance to buy a hot date. It’s for charity, after all.” I tapped his chest with one finger. “Don’t let it get to your head.”
A smirk tugged at his mouth. “That’s what this is about? Charity?”
I gestured to the banner overhead. “Um, yes?”
Dean chuckled, low and warm, the sound curling through me like smoke. Damn, I had missed him.
“Can we get all our buyers and bachelors on the stage!” the auctioneer called out over the speakers. “Everyone, please report to the stage.”
I looked at Dean to see how he felt about that. As expected, he felt the same way I did. He clearly would rather be anywhere else.
I grabbed Dean’s hand. “Come on. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t resist as I pulled him toward the exit. “Where exactly are you taking me, Watson?”
I shot him a look over my shoulder. “You’ll see.”
When we made it outside, I remembered I didn’t drive.
“Is your bike here?”
He frowned. “Of course.”
“Let’s go.”
He looked at my dress. “You want a ride on my bike wearing that?”
I glanced down at the white dress and then back at him with a smirk. “Why? Think I can’t handle it?”
“I’m not sure I can,” he said gruffly, heading toward the parking lot.
I trailed behind him, my heels clicking against the pavement. He didn’t look back to check if I was keeping up, but I could feel the way his pace slowed just enough for me to stay close. When we reached his bike, he stopped and turned to face me.
“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice low.
“Positive,” I said, stepping closer. “Unless you’re worried I’ll distract you.”
That earned me a sharp look, but the corner of his mouth twitched again. “You’ve always been trouble,” he muttered, handing me his helmet.
I took it and secured it over my head, fumbling with the strap until he reached out and adjusted it for me. His fingers brushed against his cheek, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me.
But instead, he just climbed onto his bike. I slipped on behind him, the dress, pulled up and exposing my legs just above the knee.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
I gave him the address. He nodded and we were off. The engine roared to life beneath us, vibrating through my body as we sped down the quiet streets of Larkspur Lake. I leaned against him, feeling the heat radiating from Dean’s back as I held on to him. My arms wrapped tightly around his waist. I relished the way his muscles tensed and relaxed as he maneuvered the bike through the turns.
When we finally pulled up to the address I’d given him, Dean cut the engine and turned his head slightly. I smiled, climbed off the bike, and pulled off the helmet.
The lake house was beautiful with a wraparound porch begging for Adirondack chairs and a view that made my breath catch every time. At least, it would be beautiful with a little TLC.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Come with me,” I said.
I led him up the walkway and onto the porch. I punched in my code and removed the key from the lockbox. I opened the door and gestured for him to go inside. I turned on the lights and followed him in.
Dean whistled, taking in the vaulted ceilings. “Nice place.”
“I just landed this listing,” I said. “The owner retired years ago and lives in Florida. She thought she’d come back more often, but she hasn’t. So, she called and asked if I would sell it for her. After a walkthrough, we decided I could list it for a lot more and open up financing options if there were some improvements made.”
He nodded and stepped inside. “Needs work,” he said, trailing his fingers along the dusty banister.
“I know,” I said. “Which is why I told the client I’d handle the improvements pro bono .”
“I wasn’t aware you were a painter,” he said.
“I’m not, but I’ve been learning a lot the last few months,” I said. “And I used to help my dad doing some fixes when he took on a property.”
“I heard you bought a house,” he said.
“I did. A fixer-upper. I’ve spent a lot of time fixing it myself. Me, Home Depot, and a lot of YouTube tutorials.”
He chuckled. “And that’s what you plan on doing here?”
“Not me,” I said. “Last time I bid and won you at an auction, you put me to work in your shop.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I remember. You barely knew a wrench from a ratchet.”
“Now, I’m putting you to work. This place needs some elbow grease. That would be you.”
Dean turned to me, an amused expression on his face. “In other words, you’d do it with free labor?”
“Technically, not free,” I said. “It just cost me twenty grand.”
“You know I’m a mechanic, right?”
“I think you’re handy enough,” I said with a shrug. “A little paint here and there. Fixing some loose floorboards and greasing some squeaky hinges.”
“And you want me to do that?”
I snapped my fingers. “Exactly.” Stepping closer, I brushed imaginary lint off his jacket. “Better lose the suit, though. Wouldn’t want to ruin it.”
His eyes darkened. “That so?”
I held his gaze as I backed toward the staircase. “Mmhmm. There’s something in the master bedroom that needs testing.”
Dean followed. “You’ve got this all planned out, don’t you?”
I reached the top step. “Nine months of planning, actually. A lot of thinking and reflecting.”
He stilled. “Nine months?”
“Turns out timing wasn’t our problem last year. Fear was.” I started down the wide hall. “I was afraid of failing again. You were afraid of holding me back.”
“And now?”
“Now I have my own business.” I reached for his hand and led him into the master bedroom where I had set up some LED candles and spread a blanket on the floor.
He glanced behind me. “Did you set this up?”
“I did.”
“You went into tonight with a mission in mind,” he said.
“I did.”
“Why now?”
“You have your brother back,” I said, pushing his jacket off his shoulders. “I’ve grown. I’ve got my footing. I don’t have one foot out the door. I stayed because I wanted to stay for me.”
I jerked his shirt from his pants and started to unbutton it.
“And you’re not going anywhere?”
I popped the last button, pushing the fabric aside to reveal the hard planes of his chest. “I’m staying. Before, I was afraid of failure. But now the only thing I’m afraid of is wasting another second without you.”
Dean’s hands found my waist, pulling me flush against him. “Portia?—”
“I learned something this year,” I whispered, looping my fingers through his belt loops. “How to go after what I want.” I rose onto my toes, my lips brushing his jaw. “So here’s my offer, Dean Jackson. Take it or leave it.” I nipped his earlobe. “I want you. I want us.”
His growl sent shivers down my spine as he spun me, pinning me against the wall. “No takebacks.”
Then his mouth was on mine, hot and demanding.