Page 120 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

DEAN

Nine Months Later

Seth 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.