Chapter 46
46
DEAN
Nine Months Later
S eth leaned in from his seat at my right, barely containing his shit-eating grin. “Déjà vu, huh?”
I exhaled through my nose. “Shut up.”
He chuckled, reclining in his chair like he was watching the best damn show in town. “Just saying, it’s a hell of a lot funnier watching it happen to you now that I’m not the family disappointment anymore.”
I shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. Nine months had changed my brother. The reckless kid who’d nearly gotten himself locked up doing some real time, replaced by a man who showed up for work at the bike shop every damn day and hadn’t touched a drop of liquor since his release. Bringing him tonight had been a test—one he was passing with flying colors. I wanted to see how he would handle himself surrounded by alcohol and the party vibe. Although this wasn’t exactly his old vibe. Most of his buddies were either in jail doing their own stints for stupid mistakes or had moved away.
I may have encouraged the latter. I couldn’t pay off officials, but helping the degenerates that were bad influences on my brother get a fresh start somewhere far from Larkspur Lake was worth every penny.
It was great that Seth was doing better. But it sucked that we were here at all.
The server slid the plates in front of us. I nodded my thanks, not bothering to look up. Seth picked up his fork and inspected the steak before slicing into it.
“So,” he said after swallowing. “I’ve been working on that custom build for the client in Asheville.”
I raised an eyebrow, slicing into my own steak. “Yeah? How’s it coming along?”
There was pride in his eyes, something I had never really seen before. Seth had always stumbled through life. He’d had no direction. But since he got out a few months ago, he had been a changed man. I, of course, had him come to work at the shop. I told him it was because I needed help. Truthfully, it was a way for me to keep an eye on him and keep him busy. And I could pay him well. He needed to feel like he earned the money. Not that I was just giving him money.
“It’s going better than expected,” he said. “Got the frame welded last week. Added some custom touches—reinforced the suspension, tweaked the exhaust system. It’s gonna be a beast.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. “Sounds like you’re getting the hang of it.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get all sentimental on me, old man.”
“Old man?” I shot back, feigning offense. “You’re lucky I don’t drag you back to the shop and make you redo that wiring harness.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Watching me suffer.”
“More than you know,” I deadpanned, but there was no bite to it. Truth was, I was proud of him. For once, Seth wasn’t just scraping by—he was building something real. Something that mattered.
He took another bite of his steak, chewing thoughtfully before speaking again. “You think this could turn into something bigger? Like my own shop someday? Open a chain?”
The question caught me off guard, but I didn’t let it show. “You’d want to run your own shop?”
“Maybe. Not tomorrow, but I think I could handle it. That makes you nervous, huh?”
I chuckled. “Not at all. I’m not sure a second shop is the thing right now. But I’m all for you taking on more of the day-to-day at the shop now.”
“Thinking about retiring?” he asked. “Shit, you’re getting old.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “Retirement’s not in my vocabulary. But I’ve got other projects I’ve been putting off. Could use the time.”
Seth studied me. “Other projects, huh? Like what? Finally fixing up that bike you bought years ago? Or maybe…” He paused, his smirk widening. “Something or someone else?”
I shot him a warning look, but he just laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop. But seriously, Dean, you’ve been wound tighter than a two-dollar watch lately. You gotta loosen up.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I said dryly, stabbing a piece of steak with more force than necessary.
Seth shrugged, unfazed. “Just saying. You can’t work all the time.”
“I don’t,” I muttered, though even I knew it was a lie. Work had always been my escape, my armor against everything else. It was easier to focus on engines and blueprints than to deal with anything else.
The conversation lapsed into silence for a few minutes as we ate, but Seth being Seth, he couldn’t let it go for long.
“I think you should get out of town,” he said.
“What? Why?”
“You’re grumpier than usual.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think I’m the same level of grumpy.”
“You’re withdrawn.”
I shrugged. “I’m just doing my thing. I’m here, aren’t I?”
We finished eating. Again, I had the thought I might be able to escape. I could just write a check and be done with this nonsense.
“Gentlemen, please come on up,” the auctioneer called out.
Shit .
I was certain I could make it to the door before anyone would be able to stop me. But that would not set the example I wanted Seth to see. This wasn’t about me. This was about the kids. The charity. I had to bite my tongue and suck it up.
“Get your fine ass up there,” Seth joked. “Or else these women will drag you up there.”
I shot him a glare. “Next year, your ass is taking my place.”
He chuckled. “No one is going to bid on me.”
“I would,” a random woman that had been eavesdropping chimed in.
Seth grinned and immediately sat up a little straighter. He was turning on the charm. Seth had stopped drinking and getting high, but his one vice, womanizing, was still running strong. He claimed he had a lot of time to make up for.
I didn’t want to know.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I warned him, keeping my voice low to prevent the eavesdropper from overhearing. “That one is married. I do not want a pissed-off husband coming after you or me. Or the shop. Keep it in your pants. Or find a single one.”
“Lila said she was going to be here tonight.”
I glared at him. “You stay far away from that troublemaker. She’s a pain in the ass. Don’t forget that piece she wrote when you got out of jail. She wants you in her bed to pick your brain for her next story.”
He flashed a grin. “I don’t have to talk and?—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” I got up and made my way up front with the rest of the poor schlepps that had agreed to be auctioned off. The spotlight burned hot against my skin as I stood on the stage, sweat trickling down my back. I had no business being here tonight. Absolutely none. Yet here I was, back under the same hot lights, in front of the same damn crowd, with women eyeing me like I was a prize stallion at the county fair.
The auctioneer’s voice boomed through the hall as he announced the first man. I should have been used to this by now. The bids flew fast and furious.
“Five hundred to the lady in red!”
“Six hundred from table twelve!”
I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension crawling up my spine. The energy in the room was different this year—thicker, more charged. Like the air before a summer storm. I did my best not to make eye contact with anyone. I stared at one of the fluffy decorations hanging from the ceiling. For the life of me, I could not understand why I submitted myself to such torture.
I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to last year’s auction. Things had been just as bad. The muggy heat. The suit. The cloying perfume and cologne in the room. It was like Groundhog Day. Nothing changed.
“He’s worth a fortune, you know,” a woman murmured to her friend just below the stage.
“I heard he’s impossible to pin down,” the friend whispered back. “A challenge like that is worth every penny.”
“Like breaking a bronco,” the other one tittered.
“Yippee kay yay,” the friend said.
My jaw clenched. Last year, this had been a joke. A stupid charity obligation I’d half-assed my way through. Then Portia had won by accident and my entire world had tilted on its axis.
Now?
I stood there while one of the other men was auctioned off. I knew him. Good family. Old money. But soft. The women were bidding, but the enthusiasm was dull.
A local banker with a receding hairline and a smile that screamed “I’m friendly, but don’t touch my money” was up next. He was a decent enough guy and would appeal to some of the older ladies looking for love. He had a steady job, clean record, no drama. Exactly the kind of man women in this town fawned over. Predictable. Safe. The bidding started slow but picked up when a woman in her mid-forties shot her hand up. “Two thousand dollars!”
Tom grinned like he’d just won the lottery, which only encouraged the bidding war. By the time the gavel came down, he’d gone for six thousand.
The crowd was eating it up. Bids flew in fast, and within minutes, another man was auctioned off. I watched them walking off stage, one after another.
And then there was one. I forced myself to grin and bear it. I’d get bought by one of the ladies in town and suffer through a dinner. I could do it.
“Folks, you all remember Dean Jackson,” the auctioneer said. “Last year, he went for the highest amount. Let’s beat that number! I’m going to start the bidding at one thousand. Don’t be stingy, ladies. Look at this guy. He’s worth every penny.”
I wanted to melt into the floor. Given the lights burning into me and the heat in the room, it was entirely possible. Worse things could happen.
The bidding started slowly, which was a small mercy. A few hands went up, but the numbers were modest—fifteen hundred, two thousand. I kept my eyes fixed on the back wall, willing this to be over. If I could just get through the next few minutes, I could retreat back into the shadows where I belonged.
But then, someone had to chime in.
“Five thousand,” a woman called out.
“Five thousand! Do I hear five-five?”
Another hand shot up. “Five-five!”
“Seven.”
The bidding war escalated from there. Another woman—someone I didn’t recognize—chimed in at seven-five. My stomach churned as the numbers climbed higher and higher. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Last year had been a fluke, a mistake. This was intentional.
I hoped they didn’t expect me to put out.
“Ten thousand dollars!” the auctioneer crowed.
Seth let out a low whistle from his seat at the table. “Damn, big bro. If I’d known you were worth this much, I’d have put you up for sale myself.”
I smirked. “You’d have to split the profits.”
“Hell no,” he shot back, grinning. “Finders keepers.”
I opened my mouth to retort when the room suddenly went still. Not quiet. Not hushed. Still. Like every molecule of air had frozen mid-breath. The auctioneer’s voice faltered for half a second before recovering, but I didn’t need to hear the stumble to know why everyone had stopped breathing. I felt her before I saw her.
Then her voice cut through the silence like sunlight through storm clouds. “Twenty thousand.”
Clear. Confident. Unmistakable.
My heart squeezed and I turned my head. There she was. Portia. Standing at the back of the crowd in a sleeveless white dress that glowed under the lights, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Like no time had passed at all. Like she hadn’t walked away from me nine months ago with the taste of her kiss still burning on my cheek.
And she’d just bought me. Again.
The auctioneer’s gavel cracked. “Sold! To the determined lady in white!”
The crowd erupted into applause, but all I heard was the blood roaring in my ears. Portia didn’t move, didn’t cheer with the others. She just held my gaze from across the room.
Seth clapped me on the back as I stepped off the stage. “Well,” he said, dragging out the word. “Ain’t that something.”