Page 49 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

Oh!

"Well," Drew says, breaking the moment, "I'm in." He looks around the room. "This town gave me everything – my wife, my kids, a home. I'm not letting Richardson destroy that."

Meg shifts Willow to her other arm, her face determined. "Me neither. This is where I want our children to grow up."

One by one, everyone starts nodding. Even Mr. Peterson, who usually naps through these meetings, looks fired up.

And me? I'm still trying to process the fact that Troy Bellamy – Mr. Corporate CEO himself – is actually on our side. That maybeI've been so busy protecting my heart, I didn't see what was right in front of me.

"Okay," I say finally, straightening in my chair. "Let's hear this plan of yours."

Troy's lips curve into that half-smile that definitely doesn't make my knees weak. "Really?"

"Really." I gesture to an empty chair. "But if this is some elaborate scheme, just remember – I know where you sleep." I pause. "And I have access to ghost peppers."

A laugh ripples through the room, breaking the tension. Even Elliot giggles like he’s in on the joke.

As Troy takes the seat next to me – close enough that our elbows brush, sending tiny electric shocks up my arm – I realize something. Sometimes the biggest threats aren't the ones you can see coming. And sometimes the best allies are the ones you least expect.

Now if I could just get my heart to stop doing cartwheels every time he looks at me, that would be great.

Chapter thirteen

TROY

I sit in the little town's cafe, feeling completely out of my element.

The space is nothing like I’m used to. I’ve obviously not had to convince a bunch of people about my plans in a little cafe before.

Everything here screams "small town charm." The exact opposite of everything I represent.

Skye stands before me. I can feel her skeptical eyes boring into me, challenging every word I'm about to say.

She's a force of nature, this woman, a tornado in a sundress. And I’m strangely drawn to her, despite the constant friction between us.

After our tumultuous history — the disastrous first meeting, the revelation of my corporate intentions, and the unexpected moments of connection we've shared — I know I'm walking a razor-thin line.

"I have a proposal," I start again, my voice crisp and professional, the tone that's closed million-dollar deals acrossthe country. "And before you interrupt — which I know you're dying to do — just listen."

I watch her cross her arms; one eyebrow arched.

Classic Skye.

Always ready for a fight.

My fingers unconsciously straighten my now-rumpled collar. The gesture is pure muscle memory — a reminder of my corporate training, of the polished image I've cultivated for years.

But something about Skye makes me feel slightly off-balance, like my carefully constructed persona has a few unexpected cracks.

“Well, let’s have it.” someone says.

I nod. “I want to become a silent partner against the town's buyout."

The words hang in the air, and I can see the surprise flicker across her face.

Good. I've learned that in negotiations the first step is always to be unexpected.

“What are you trying to say?” Skye narrows her eyes at me.

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