Page 133 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

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.”