Page 1 of Claiming My Grumpy Ex

One

Cory

“Damn, I’m already spoiled.”

I pulled the cabin door shut, listening to the solid click of the lock echoing in the morning air. My hand lingered on the key for a second, feeling that strange reluctance tugging at me. This cabin wasn’t much—just a modest little place with a view of the lake, tucked far enough from town that I could breathe out here. But it already felt like a refuge.

Taking a deep breath, the crisp air ruffled my sandy hair, carrying a subtle hint of the nearby lake. Cedar Cove exuded a unique charm—serene, unassuming, populated by individuals who seemed to have mastered the art of living free from the burdens of city life in Dallas. Hell, I’d only owned my cabin for a few days, and I already felt less grumpy than I had in years.

And now I had to go back.

I shoved the key into my pocket, scowling. No matter how many billions I had or how much good I was doing as a philanthropist, it was still the same old song—meetings, strategysessions, and board members nitpicking over details. Important work? Sure. But tedious as hell.

“If it weren’t for the damn board, I’d be out here for good,” I muttered, shaking my head.

I took one last look at the lake through the trees, then turned toward my SUV, still grumbling about the emails and calls waiting for me. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in the work—few things in my life meant more than giving back, especially considering where I’d come from. But sometimes, I wished I could just disappear here in Cedar Cove, make the lake my world, and let everyone else figure out how to save the world without me.

Something stirred at the edge of my mind as I climbed into my unassuming vehicle. Maybe it was the morning light, the quiet of the town, or just the damn pull of the cabin itself, but I felt an odd kind of calm. It almost made me believe I could leave the past behind out here.

Not likely.I thought, chuckling to myself.

I reached for my sunglasses, caught a glimpse of my reflection in the rearview mirror, and frowned. My hair was longer than usual, a little too close to looking unkempt for my taste. Back in Dallas, I’d have taken care of this last week, but it almost seemed to fit out here.

Still, I figured a quick cut wouldn’t hurt. Besides, a few more hours in Cedar Cove sounded better than facing the traffic back home. I started the engine and pointed the SUV toward town, feeling the excuse roll around in my head like a damn good reason to delay getting back to the grind.

A few minutes later, I parked on Main Street, right in front of a cozy little salon calledReflections. Its painted sign swung gently in the morning breeze. It looked like the kind of place that was more concerned with friendly chatter and regulars than anything else.

Fine by me.

I pushed open the door and the bell jingled as I stepped inside. The place was bright and warm, with polished wood floors and the scent of lavender hanging in the air. Honestly, it didn’t have a bad vibe.

The receptionist looked up with a polite smile. “Good morning! Do you have an appointment?”

“Not exactly,” I said, glancing around. “Just hoping someone could fit me in.”

She scanned her screen and nodded. “You’re in luck. Ellie just had a cancellation, so she can take you right now. Go ahead and have a seat.”

I nodded and settled near the window, letting my gaze wander around the place. Cedar Cove had a laid-back feel that suited the town. It had this way of slowing everything down, of making you feel like you could actually breathe.

“Cory?” A soft voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I looked up, and there she was—Ellie. The name didn’t ring any bells, but something about her face felt familiar—like a memory hovering just out of reach. She smiled, professional and warm, and motioned me over to her chair.

“This way,” she said, leading me to an empty space in the back.

I followed, feeling strangely out of place as I sat down. She draped the cape over me with smooth, practiced hands, moving with a confidence that said she knew exactly what she was doing.

“So, where are we going with this?” she asked, eyeing my hair with a slight grin.

“Just a trim. Nothing fancy.”

She chuckled, reaching for her scissors. “Got it. Have to say, though, you’ve got nice hair. Not many guys keep it in this good shape.”

I smirked. “Guess I don’t have much of a choice.”

As she combed through my hair, the quiet snip of scissors started up, a steady, rhythmic sound that was oddly calming. I leaned back a bit, letting myself settle in. I wasn’t usually one for small talk, but something about this place, about her, felt… easy. Comfortable, like I could let my guard down a little without anyone giving a damn.

“So,” she started, breaking the silence in a way that felt natural, “are you just passing through, or are we going to be seeing you around here more often?”

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