Epilogue
DEAN
The hum of chatter and clinking glasses filled the grand ballroom as I leaned against the back wall, arms crossed, watching the crowd. One year later, and somehow, I’d let myself get roped into this damn auction again. This was the epitome of being a glutton for punishment.
Only this time, I was calling the shots.
We’d moved the annual charity gala to the ballroom of the luxury hotel in town. I took over and reached out to wealthy donors from all around the state. If we were going to do this, we were going to do it big and right. For the kids.
Waiters in crisp black suits moved through the crowd with trays of champagne. The live band in the corner was playing loud enough to be heard, but not so loud to drown out conversation. Wealthy donors were all rubbing elbows and talking business.
I had done away with the old auction. Yes, we were still auctioning things, but things—not people. I had never been comfortable with that. Instead, Portia and I had worked together to solicit donations from local businesses. We had a few big items, including a car from the local dealership, but mostly small things. Those small things would fetch big dollar amounts because no one wanted to look like a cheap ass.
Seth caught my eye from across the room. He flashed a grin, teasing me. I rolled my eyes. My brother had been insufferable ever since I’d told him my plan. Portia was talking with her mom and dad. She looked stunning in the new gown Alexis had made for her, something that was becoming a tradition for them.
The new venue required something a little fancier than the sundress Portia wore last year. The shimmering champagne-colored dress had intricate beading and lace detailing. The A-line silhouette with a plunging neckline and delicate spaghetti straps made her look like a goddess.
She looked over at me and smiled. I nodded in return, enchanted by her.
The announcer stepped up to the mic, clearing his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a surprise submission for tonight’s auction. One that’s a little unconventional.”
The room quieted. I straightened, my fingers brushing the small velvet box in my pocket.
Portia looked up to the announcer on stage. She frowned as the spotlight swung toward her. Her frown turned to confusion.
“But there’s only one person who can place a bid on this item,” the auctioneer said.
Portia’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
I adjusted my tie and walked across the marble floor as I made my way toward the stage. The crowd parted just like it did last year, whispers following in my wake.
Portia’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, hell no,” I heard her say.
Her parents, who were in on the surprise, gently grabbed her and brought her up to the stage. She looked around the room as she climbed the three steps to join me.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face as I reached into my pocket. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I held up the velvet box between two fingers. “You started a tradition last year.”
Laughter rippled through the room. Portia folded her arms, that familiar fire sparking in her eyes. “And what exactly am I bidding on?”
The room went dead silent as I flipped open the box. The diamond caught the light, scattering prisms across Portia’s stunned face.
“The question isn’t what you’re bidding on,” I said, my voice rough. “It’s whether you’re willing to bet on us.”
Portia’s lips parted. The entire ballroom seemed to hold its breath.
Then, with that wicked smirk I loved so damn much, she raised the paddle she’d been carrying. “One million dollars.”
The crowd erupted. Glasses clinked. Someone wolf whistled. Seth was grinning like an idiot, clapping louder than anyone. But all I saw was her.
“Final offer?” I murmured.
Portia’s breath hitched. Her fingers trembled as she took the box, her eyes glistening under the chandelier lights. Then she slid her arms around my neck, pressing her lips to my ear.
“I’ll take it.”
Her mouth met mine, warm and sure, tasting of champagne and something salty, probably caviar. I grinned against her lips, pulling her tight against me as the crowd cheered.
When we finally broke apart, I tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “Sold.”
Portia laughed, the sound bright and clear. “You’re such a showoff.”
“Only for you.” I slid the ring onto her finger, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Only ever for you.”
We stepped off the stage, Portia’s hand still clutched in mine. The crowd surged around us like a wave, voices overlapping in a cacophony of congratulations and laughter. I nodded at a few familiar faces, my usual gruff demeanor softened by the grin I couldn’t quite wipe off my face.
“Dean! Portia!” Seth’s voice cut through the noise. I turned to see him weaving through the crowd, his grin as wide as the lake outside. He clapped me on the shoulder, his other hand gripping Portia’s arm. “About damn time,” he said, shaking his head. “I was starting to think you were going to drag this out forever.”
Portia laughed, her cheeks flushed, her eyes still glistening. “It was the perfect time.”
“I thought he was going to chicken out,” Seth said, slapping me on the shoulder. “You did it.”
Seth wasn’t wrong—I wasn’t exactly known for grand gestures. But then again, I hadn’t been known for a lot of things before Portia walked into my life.
“It was perfect,” Portia said and held out her hand to look at the ring. “And I was very surprised.”
“Well, it’s about time you two made it official,” came another voice, and I looked over to see Portia’s mom stepping forward, her hand resting on her husband’s arm. Her eyes were misty as she pulled Portia into a tight hug. “We’re so happy for you.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Portia mumbled into her shoulder, her voice thick with emotion.
Her dad clapped me on the back. “You take care of her now, Dean,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Always,” I said simply.
The crowd shifted again, and Alexis appeared, throwing her arms around Portia, squealing as they hugged each other. She stepped back, still smiling. “Well? Let me see it!”
Portia laughed and held out her left hand, the diamond catching the light.
Alexis gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, it’s even more stunning in person,” she gushed. “Dean doesn’t mess around.”
“Not when it matters,” I muttered under my breath.
Portia shot me a look—a mix of amusement and something softer—before turning back to Alexis. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For everything. I’m so glad you convinced me to wear this dress. The one I was going to wear was not nearly fancy enough for this occasion.”
Alexis waved her off with a grin. “I love when you wear my designs. Please tell me I get to make your wedding dress.”
“Absolutely,” Portia said.
“Better start now,” Seth said. “Knowing Dean, he’ll want to elope next week.”
I shot him a glare, but Portia just laughed. “I might be the one dragging him to the courthouse. I’m not sure I can wait to marry him.”
The night blurred into a haze of laughter, champagne, and well-wishes. I kept Portia close, my hand never leaving hers. When the band struck up a slow song, I tugged her toward the dance floor without a word. She glanced at me, her eyebrows lifting in surprise, but let me lead her into the center of the room.
“Since when do you dance?” she asked as I pulled her into my arms.
“Since I got engaged,” I said. My hand settled on her waist, and she melted against me, her head resting just below my chin.
“I need to have my hands on you and since it’s probably not appropriate to do it if we’re not dancing, I guess we’re dancing.”
We swayed together. Contentment washed over me. All I could feel was her. All I could hear was the soft rhythm of her breathing.
“You’re actually not terrible at this,” she murmured after a moment, her voice teasing.
I huffed a laugh. “Don’t let it get around.”
She tilted her head back to look at me, her eyes soft and shining. “Your secret’s safe with me. And the other hundred or so people here.”
We stayed like that for what felt like forever. For once in my life, I didn’t feel the need to pull away or shut it down. For once, I let myself have this—let myself have her without question or hesitation.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to invite everyone to step outside for the next part of our evening,” the emcee called out.
I led her out to the terrace. Fireworks burst overhead. She leaned against the railing, the diamond glittering on her finger. She looked down at her hand. “This is so pretty,” she said.
“Took me six months to find the perfect ring,” I said. “I knew it had to be just right.”
“And the auction stunt?” she asked playfully.
“Payback. Had to make sure you were serious about keeping me.”
“Oh, I’m serious.” She kissed me slow and deep, pulling away just enough to murmur, “But you realize this means I own you now, right?”
I chuckled, pressing my forehead to hers. “Sweetheart, you’ve owned me since the first damn auction. I never stood a chance.”
The fireworks reached their crescendo, illuminating her face. I looked into the eyes of the woman who had bulldozed her way into my life and refused to leave. The woman who’d seen the worst of me and stayed. She brought out the best in me.
Portia smiled, her thumb brushing my cheek. “Best investment I ever made.”
I didn’t respond with words. Instead, I leaned down and kissed her again. Her hands slid up to cradle my face. When we finally broke apart, her smile was soft, her eyes half-lidded and content. “You’re ruining my lipstick,” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Worth it,” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip.
The fireworks ended with a final deafening boom, the sky darkening once more. Around us, people began to filter back inside, their voices carrying snippets of conversation about how beautiful the display had been. Portia stayed where she was, her arms looped around my neck as if she had no intention of moving.
“We should probably say our goodbyes,” she said after a moment. “I’m thinking I want to take this home.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Home.”
I would never get tired of calling my house our home .
***