Page 62 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

"I am not stress cooking. I'm... strategically processing vegetables."

She snorts. "Sure, honey. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

I shake my head at her playfully but can't help the smile spreading across my face. My best friend knows me too well.

It’s nice to have her here, even if she’s the biggest instigator of my spiraling. Zoey’s my rock. She knows me better than anyone. Which is why she also knows exactly what this deal means to me.

Another glance at the phone. Still nothing.

Come on, Troy. Give me something. Anything.

The anticipation is killing me.

One moment, I want to punch him. The next, I want to kiss him.

Love is weird.

Scratch that – whateverthisis, is weird.

My phone remains stubbornly silent.

Time to make another batch of my signature jalapeño-mango salsa. Because if I can't control when Troy calls, I can definitely control how many peppers I chop.

After what feels like hours later, my phone finally rings just as I'm slicing the last jalapeño. My hand freezes mid-chop.

My heart stops.

Deep breath, Skye. Play it cool.

I take a shaky breath and swipe to answer, trying to keep my voice from sounding as breathless as I feel.

I answer, trying to sound casual. "Hey."

Troy's voice is a mix of excitement and nervousness. "We did it," he says, and I can practically hear the grin spreading across his face.

My heart does this ridiculous somersault. "What exactly did we do?"

He dives into the details, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. His family agreed. The partnership’s a go—a silent investment that’ll protect Seaside Cove from its competitors’ big, greedy hands. No bulldozing the town. No monstrous high-rises. Just the promise of preserving what makes this place feel like home.

My grip on the phone tightens, the relief washing over me like a cool ocean wave. The town’s safe. My food truck is safe. Everything I’ve fought for is safe.

“Meet me on the beach,” he says, and it’s not a question. It’s that deep, delicious command that gets under my skin every time.

He’s here? He’s back? I didn't know about that.

I swear my heart almost bursts out of excitement, but I play it cool.

I roll my eyes, even though he can't see me.

"Twenty minutes," I respond, already reaching for my favorite jacket. The vintage denim one with a few patches from past food truck adventures.

Zoey catches my eye. One eyebrow raised. That classic 'I know something's happening' look.

“Not a word,” I warn, slipping out of the truck as she makes a show of zipping her lips and winking. “I’ll be back.”

She mimes zipping her lips, then adds, "Ooh, beach rendezvous. Very romantic."

I throw a pepper at her. She ducks, laughing.

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