Page 29 of Stuck with Doctor Grump

“But thanks to this community,” Eleanor went on, “and to two very dedicated people, the shop is blooming again—literally and figuratively.”

She gestured to me, then to Damien.

I blinked.

Wait… what?

“Please join me in thanking Ruby Shea and Dr. Damien Cole for showing us that a little chaos and a lot of heart can bring something truly beautiful back to life.”

Applause erupted.

Loud. Sincere. A few whistles.

I managed a stunned smile as hands clapped and heads nodded and someone in the back shouted, “Team Ruby-D!”

Oh no.

Damien chuckled quietly beside me. The traitor.

We stood there in the spotlight, surrounded by applause neither of us asked for, forced to smile and pretend like it wasn’t turning us into flustered statues.

My heart pounded.

Not from the attention.

From the way his hand brushed mine.

By accident, maybe.

But then again—maybe not.

Our eyes met. Held.

The noise faded around us, muffled by a sudden awareness that stretched tight between us.

“People think we’re a team now,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

His gaze didn’t waver. “Maybe we are.”

Something fluttered in my stomach.

I didn’t move. Couldn’t.

Because the way he said it—low and certain—wasn’t a throwaway line. It was a quiet declaration.

Like he’d decided something.

And now I had to decide something too.

Eleanor waved us offstage, clearly delighted with herself. We stepped down, weaving through the crowd toward the exit, smiling and nodding, accepting handshakes and good-natured comments.

“Look at you two,” Marge beamed. “Planning the gala and saving the shop. What’s next—mayor and first lady?”

“Not likely,” I laughed, but it sounded thinner than I intended.

The moment we reached the edge of the crowd, I felt it.

His hand.

---