Page 69 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

Every time I see something in town that looks a little better, a little brighter, he’s there in the back of my mind, all smug and annoyingly thoughtful.

Just knowing he had a hand in all this, it’s… well, it’s confusing. I never asked him to swoop in and start fixing things. But here he is, changing everything. And now I know that he’s really, truly caring.

For us. For me.

I push the thought away and focus on the changes around me. The way Mr. Jenkins is handing out his famous fudge samples to kids by the fountain, the way Mrs. Delmar’s café is buzzing with customers, and the way the street vendors seem brighter and bolder with their setups today.

It’s like the whole town’s been lit from within.

But there’s a part of me that’s holding back, that keeps reminding myself.

Don’t let this get to you, Skye. Don’t let some billionaire CEO worm his way into your heart just because he’s playing nice.

Okay, I tell myself angrily. He’s already wormed his way in. And I don’t think I can handle all these feelings.

This might be the first day in weeks that I haven’t thought about fighting for Seaside Cove, and if that doesn’t throw me, nothing will.

I take one last look around, soaking in all the signs of change.

But the best part?

Seaside Cove still feels like Seaside Cove—just a little better, a little more… cared for.

***

It’s been almost a week since those thoughts.

The morning sun is warm, and Seaside Cove’s got that festival energy buzzing in the air. Banners hang from the old streetlights, locals are setting up tables filled with handmade jewelry and crafts, and every other person seems to be carrying food for the celebration.

Today, we’re honoring our town’s culture, and from the looks of it, we’re doing Seaside Cove proud.

I’m lugging a box of ingredients for the food truck, dodging Mrs. Wyatt’s basket of handmade soaps and the kid running around with a seagull feather in his hair, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I slide the box onto the food truck counter and pull it out, my heart skipping a beat when I see the name on the screen.

Troy:You look cute hauling those veggies.

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling, and oh, the blush. Not something I can control.

I glance around, but I don’t see him anywhere.You’re ridiculous,I type back, shoving the phone in my pocket, trying to refocus.

Only… now my mind’s tangled up in him, and I know it. No point in pretending otherwise. Not with my cheeks feeling like they’ve been slapped by the sun and my stomach doing somersaults like I’m back in high school.

But every time I let myself think,Okay, this is something real,the little voice in my head throws up the warning signs:Corporate tycoon. Billionaire with more suits than you’ve got salsa jars. Headed back to the city at any time.

“Get a grip, Skye,” I mutter to myself, grabbing a bag of onions and heading into my truck to start prep.

The celebration’s in full swing now, the air smelling like freshly baked bread, grilled shrimp, and the floral notes of Mrs. Wyatt’s soaps. It’s one of those perfect days that reminds mewhy I’ll never leave Seaside Cove. Not for anything. Not for anyone.

And then, just as I’m about to chop my first onion, my phone buzzes again.

Troy:You look cute AND serious. Don’t work too hard, alright?

This time, I actually laugh. I tell myself not to answer back, to ignore him for just five minutes, but my fingers betray me.

Me:Stop stalking me, you creep.

The reply comes almost instantly.

Troy:Can’t help it. Just keeping an eye on my favorite local business owner.

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