Page 27 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

I cross my arms, chin up. "Scared your taste buds can't handle it?"

He raises an eyebrow, that smile still playing at the corners of his mouth. "Is that a challenge, Ms. Martinez?"

Oh, it's on. I load up a chip with a heaping dollop of salsa and hand it to him with a sweet smile. "Bon appétit, Mr. Troy."

He takes a bite, and I watch, waiting for the explosion. But it doesn't come. Instead, he chews thoughtfully, then nods. "Not bad. The chocolate balances out the heat nicely."

I blink. Did Troy just compliment my cooking? Is the world ending?

"Uh, thanks," I manage, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest. "So... enjoying the show?"

He nods, looking around. "It's impressive. I had no idea Seaside Cove had so much talent."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot about this town you don't know," I say, but without my usual bite.

We fall into conversation, and it's... weird.

Good weird, though.

We talk about the art, about creativity, about the importance of expression. And the strangest part? I'm actually enjoying it. His eyes light up when he talks about a painting he liked, and I find myself hanging on every word.

"You know," Troy says, gesturing at my booth, "this is art too. What you do with food. It's creative and unexpected. It's... admirable."

I feel my cheeks heat up. What is happening? Am I blushing because of Troy?

"Thanks," I mumble. "Your, uh, your appreciation for art is pretty admirable too."

He smiles – another real one, complete with that heart-melting dimple – and I feel something flutter in my chest.

Oh no. No, no, no.

This is not happening. I am not developing feelings for the enemy. Nope.

Not me.

But as I watch him move on to the next booth, still smiling and chatting, I can't help but wonder: who is this guy, really? And why do I suddenly want to find out?

I shake my head, trying to clear it.Focus, Skye. You've got a job to do.

But focusing is easier said than done.

The rest of the art show flies by in a blur of colors, flavors, and... and … this infuriatingly gorgeous man. I can't seem to keep my eyes off him, and it's driving me nuts.

Every time I hear his laugh from across the room, my head snaps up like it's on a string.

"Okay, what's the deal?" Zoey sidles up to me, eyebrow raised. "You've been staring at Mr. Corporate America all night."

"What? No, I haven't," I scoff, feeling my cheeks heat up. "I'm just... keeping an eye on the enemy."

Zoey snorts. "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England. Spill, Martinez."

I open my mouth to argue, but just then, Troy catches my eye from across the room … and smiles.

That dimple appears again, and I swear my knees go weak. What is happening to me?

"Earth to Skye!" Zoey waves a hand in front of my face. "Oh my God, you've got it bad."

"I do not!" I hiss, but even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice.

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