Page 71 of Falling for Mr. Grump, the Big City Billionaire

He reaches over, gently taking my hand. “I figured you might find a good spot for it. Maybe in your truck, so you never forget what you’re working for.”

I glance up at him, feeling that stupid grin spreading across my face again. Here he is—Mr. Fancy Pants the CEO, the guy I once thought had a heart made of pure corporate steel—and he’shanding me a piece of his own family’s past, something real and deeply personal.

And I realize, at this moment, I’m completely gone. One hundred percent gone.

The last of my walls crumble, leaving me feeling both exhilarated and terrified.

I run my fingers over the faded photo frame, the soft edges and old sepia tones showing a scene of Seaside Cove from decades ago. It’s beautiful—like he’s just handed me a piece of his own heart, or at least of his history.

I glance up at him, stunned, and that’s when I catch his gaze. There’s no teasing smirk this time, no walls between us. Just a warmth in his eyes that, if I’m honest with myself, I’ve been waiting for since the day he stumbled out of that plane and into my life.

“Troy… I don’t even know what to say,” I murmur, my voice soft.

He doesn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he steps a little closer, eyes locked on mine. “You don’t have to say anything, Skye. Just… know that this place, you, all of it—it matters to me. More than I ever thought it could.”

Before I know it, I’m on my toes, leaning in, and his arms come around me as our lips meet, soft and slow at first, then deeper, like everything we haven’t said is pouring out in that one perfect moment.

When we finally pull apart, I’m breathless, and he’s smiling at me, one of those rare, real smiles that makes my heart do that ridiculous skipping thing.

“Come on,” he says, still holding my hand. “Let’s explore the rest of this festival.” I don’t hesitate. I close the truck’s windows and let him pull me away.

And for the next few hours, we do just that, wandering through the booths and stands, checking out the crafts, and chattingwith everyone we meet. He fits right in, greeting neighbors and laughing at jokes he probably doesn’t even understand but pretends to. At one point, he insists on buying me a bright flower crown from Mrs. Delmar’s booth, setting it on my head like it’s a real crown and calling me“Queen of Seaside Cove.”

It’s silly, ridiculous even, but by the end of it, I don’t care. I’m too busy just feeling—like I’m floating, like this is something I could get used to.

As the festival winds down, we make our way back to his car. He opens the passenger door for me, and I slide in, stifling a smile at how natural this feels. He drives us through the quiet streets, the sky darkening into twilight, the scent of salt and wildflowers drifting through the open window.

“So… back to the inn?” he asks, glancing over at me, one eyebrow raised.

I shake my head, grinning. “Actually, I moved back to my house yesterday. Renovations are finally done.”

He nods, a pleased look flickering in his eyes as he turns onto my street. “Then I’ll take you home.”

In front of my little house, he stops the car and turns to me, his hand reaching for mine. I lean toward him, and just like before, he’s there, catching me in a soft, lingering kiss that somehow feels both like a beginning and a promise. We pull apart, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering on my cheek.

“Thank you for today,” he murmurs, his voice low.

I smile, squeezing his hand. “Thank you for showing up.”

With one last kiss, soft and slow, I pull away and head up to my door. He waits until I’m inside, and as I turn back to wave, I see him still watching, his expression unreadable but warm.

Inside, I flop onto my sofa, the day’s excitement still buzzing through me. But I’m exhausted, every bit of my energy is spentin the best possible way. I curl up under a blanket, and just as I’m dozing off, I hear a knock.

I open the door to find Troy standing there, looking a little sheepish. “I was halfway to the inn,” he says, “but I just… I had to see you one more time.”

Before I can respond, he’s wrapping me in his arms again, pulling me close. His warmth surrounds me, his fingers tracing gentle circles on my back, and I let myself sink into the comfort of it. We move to the sofa, where he settles beside me, his arm draped over my shoulder and pulls a blanket over us both. I feel him gently stroking my hair, and as my eyelids grow heavy, he whispers, “I could get used to this.”

I smile, barely awake now, my heart full. “Me too.”

And as I drift off, safe in his arms, I finally let myself believe it—believe in us, in whatever this is becoming, and in the little dream I never knew I wanted.

Chapter nineteen

TROY

I pull my sleek black Mercedes into the company headquarters in New York, gripping the steering wheel with more tension than the vehicle requires.

I didn’t know I’d be back here so soon but this needs to be done.

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