Page 6 of Claiming My Grumpy Ex

Jake, still groggy but clearly pleased, managed a sleepy grin. “You’ll come?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Cory replied, his voice kind.

I thanked him as he stepped back toward his vehicle, his presence somehow grounding even as he prepared to leave. Watching him drive away, his taillights disappearing down the street, I felt a tug of something I couldn’t quite name.

Even after Cory drove away, the familiar aura he left behind lingered like the soft echo of a favorite song long after it stopped playing. There was an undeniable ease about him—a way he fit so effortlessly into Jake’s world and maybe into mine, too.

But as I closed the door and leaned against it, my thoughts drifted to my upcoming date with Luke. I’d been looking forward to it all week, eager for a distraction and the chance to feel something lighthearted again. Now, after seeing Cory with Jake, after the quiet moments we’d shared, my enthusiasm faltered.

Luke was charming, handsome, and everything I should want as a boyfriend. Yet, the flutter of excitement I’d felt the last few days had dulled, replaced by the quiet echo of Cory’s presence. No matter how much I tried to push those intrusive thoughts aside.

Three

Cory

One Week Later

The Sunday drive into Beaver Creek felt like stepping back in time. The same old storefronts lined Main Street, the lampposts looking like they hadn’t been replaced in decades. In a way, it was comforting. The town didn’t pretend to be anything other than what it was. I was here to surprise Mom for her birthday, but part of me wondered if I was looking for something else. Maybe some grounding.

I parked outside Beaver Creek Hardware and took a moment to just sit there, watching a few locals stroll down the sidewalk. This town felt like a quiet stranger to the life I’d built in Dallas as if the Cory Harrison who’d grown up here and the one who ran a fortune now were two different people.

Prescott Harrison, my grandfather, had left his oil fortune to me instead of Dad, who’d never wanted anything to do with it. He was content running the hardware store and living a quiet life here. And maybe, some days, I wished I could be, too.

Stepping out of the car, I glanced up, hearing someone call my name.

“Well, if it isn’t Cory Harrison, back from the big city!”

Old Mr. Daly was sitting on a bench outside the diner. I waved my hand, managing a polite smile. “Good to see you, Mr. Daly,” I replied, shaking his hand.

“Thought you forgot about us,” he chuckled. “Don’t see you around these parts too often.”

“Life’s busy up there,” I said, shrugging it off, but his words hit harder than I let on. “But I come back when I can.”

He nodded, giving me a kind pat on the arm. “Your folks are good people, you know. Your dad, he’s got this town’s respect.”

I returned his nod, feeling the familiar mix of pride and guilt. Dad had made his choice to stay here and run the store. And I’d made mine to leave, though sometimes I wondered if I’d made the right one.

I headed into Beaver Creek Hardware, and the smell of wood, metal, and faint coffee filled the air, instantly transporting me back to a time when I’d helped out here as a kid. It was strange—this place was a living memory, and walking into it made me feel like a stranger in my own life.

Dad was at the counter, helping a customer with a new drill. When he saw me, he gave a familiar, gruff smile and crossed his arms with a hint of mock sternness.

“Look who decided to show up,” he said, shaking his head. “Didn’t expect you ‘til Christmas.”

“Surprise visit for Mom’s birthday,” I replied, going in for a quick hug.

He patted my back, chuckling. “She’ll like that. You know how she gets if you miss a birthday.”

“How about you? Still running this place like it’s the only hardware store in Texas?” I joked, glancing around.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Somebody has to. How’s life treating you in the big city?”

“About the same as the last time I saw you.” I shrugged, knowing he was teasing but still feeling the weight of it. There were always unspoken things between us—how I’d taken on the legacy my grandfather left while Dad had stayed here, building something steady and grounded. Occasionally, it felt like he saw me as the one who’d gone off course.

He leaned against the counter, his eyes holding that familiar glint of wisdom. “You know, not everything’s about building an empire. Sometimes, just being happy with what you’ve got is worth more than all that money.”

I nodded, but his words stirred up something unresolved. Dad was content here, and maybe he was right. But life had never felt that simple for me.

After a pause, I shifted the topic, clearing my throat. “Actually, I ran into someone in Cedar Cove last week—a woman named Ellie. Reminded me a bit of my old high school sweetheart.”

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