Page 26 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

As the first visitors start to trickle in, I take a deep breath, savoring the mix of aromas in the air. Paint and clay, flowers from Mrs. Delmar's booth, and the spices from my own station all blend together in a uniquely Seaside Cove scent.

I look around at the vibrant art, the smiling faces, the sense of community that fills every corner of this room. This, right here, is why I fight so hard against any corporate buyout. This is what Troy, and his fancy suit can never understand.

Speaking of Troy... I find myself scanning the crowd, wondering if he'll show up.

Not that I care, of course. It's just... professional curiosity.

Yeah, that's it.

I shake my head, pushing thoughts of an annoyingly handsome CEO out of my mind.

Let the art show begin!

An hour or so later, the art show is in full swing, and I'm in my element. My little cooking station's buzzing with curious faces, some excited, others... well, let's just say skeptical.

But hey, that's half the fun, right?

"Step right up, folks!" I call out, waving a spoon like a magician's wand. "Who's brave enough to try my mango-habanero-chocolate salsa?"

A few brave souls step forward, and I beam. That's what I love about Seaside Cove – always up for an adventure, even if it might set their taste buds on fire.

I'm in the middle of explaining my culinary "masterpiece" to Mr. Musk when I spot him.

Troy.

Mr. Fancy Pants himself, standing in the doorway looking all lost and out of place.

Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.

And boy, did that cat have good taste.

Troy's wearing a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his oh-so-beautiful tanned, muscular forearms. Dark jeans hug his legs in all the right places, and his usually slicked-back hair is slightly tousled, like he's been running his hands through it.

It's a softer look than his usual power suits, and I hate that it's working for him.

I watch him out of the corner of my eye as I hand out samples. He's actually making an effort, stopping at each booth, talking to the artists.

Color me surprised. Like really.

"Earth to Skye!" Zoey's voice snaps me back. "You're about to overflow that taco."

Oops. I quickly adjust, flashing a grin at my waiting customers. "Just making sure you get your money's worth!"

But my eyes keep drifting back to Troy. He's at Mr. Jenkins' booth now, and...oh.

Oh wow.

He's… he’s smiling.

An actual, genuine smile that transforms his whole face. His eyes crinkle at the corners, little laugh lines appearing that I've never noticed before. There's a dimple in his left cheek that makes my heart do a weird flip-flop thing.

It's like watching the sun come out after a storm, warm and bright and...

Wait, what am I thinking? This is Troy the Grump we're talking about!

Before I know it, he's at my booth. Great. Just great.

"Interesting... combination," he says, eyeing my salsa.

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