Page 130 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

I closed my eyes, letting his words settle over me like a blanket. He wasn’t one for grand declarations or flowery speeches. He didn’t need to. He could say so much with so little. His words carried more weight because of how sparingly he doled them out.

“I know,” I murmured, tilting my head up to look at him. “And I trust you.”

He dipped his head down, brushing his lips against mine. When he pulled back, there was something in his eyes I couldn’t quite place—relief, maybe, or something deeper.

“Good,” he said again, his voice firm now as he rested his forehead against mine. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

I laughed softly. “Guess I am. I’m going to tell my clients I come with my own handyman. He will work for sex.”

“You might want to clarify that.” He grinned. “Only sex with you.”

“Oh, good point.” I nodded. “I don’t want to pimp you out. You’re all mine.”

“Are you two gonna make out, or can I come up?” Seth’s voice carried from the driveway, laced with a playful tone. It was a nice change from the sour attitude he used to have.

He stood at the bottom of the steps, hands shoved in his pockets, looking more put together than I’d ever seen him. Clean shaven, hair trimmed, wearing an actual button-down instead of a ratty T-shirts.

I grinned, descending the steps first. “That depends. Are you going to pretend not to care when I hug you?”

Seth groaned but didn’t step back as I wrapped my arms around him. He even gave me a quick, awkward pat on the shoulder before pulling away.

It was a far cry from the angry young man who’d gone off to jail. We had talked last week. It was something Dean had insisted on once we knew we were going to be back together. Seth’s apology was simple but heartfelt. A man of few words, just like his brother. “I was an asshole. To you, to Dean, to everyone. I’m sorry and I’m trying to be better.”

Dean watched us with a smile as we walked back up onto the porch. This was different. This was healing. I liked this new thing we had together.

Seth cleared his throat. “You got a beer?”

Dean huffed. “Water or soda. Take your pick.”

“Figures.” Seth rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “I’ll take a Coke.”

It was a joke. Seth was on the wagon. Had been according to Dean. When he was around, we didn’t drink. Not a single beer. I loved seeing their relationship grow. It was healthy.

Dean grabbed a can from the cooler and tossed it underhand. Seth caught it easily.

“So,” Seth said after a long pull from his drink as he looked up at the house. “This is your listing?”

“It is.” I nodded. “The owner is in Florida.”

“Does it have good bones?”

“Do you want to see it?” I asked.

“Uh oh,” Dean joked. “You’ve awoken the realtor.”

I stuck my tongue out and led Seth inside, Dean following close behind. The air inside was cool, a welcome relief from the North Carolina humidity clinging to our skin. The house hadn’t been updated in years, but it had potential. Wide windows let in streams of sunlight during the day. The hardwood floors creaked under our footsteps but in a way an old house always did and not a sign the place was going to fall down around us.

“Kitchen’s through here,” I said, gesturing to the left. “It’s outdated, but the appliances work, and there’s plenty of counter space. I don’t know if you’re much of a cook, but this is a great place to learn.”

Seth stepped in, running a hand along the laminate countertop. “Needs new cabinets,” he muttered, more to himself than to us. I could see his mind working, assessing, calculating.

“Living room’s next,” I continued, leading the way. The room was spacious with built-ins on one wall. A brick fireplace dominated one wall. Seth walked straight to it, crouching to inspect the hearth.

“Functional?” he asked.

“As far as I know,” I said. “Owner said they used it every winter.”

He nodded, standing and turning his attention to the large bay window that overlooked the backyard. “Lot’s bigger than it looks from the front. She’s got a real ass on her.”