Deep Dive: An enemies-to-lovers billionaire romance (Deep Love Series) Lauren Winter (red white and royal blue hardcover TXT) 📖

nursing program.” He tests the waters. I know he is eager to do something for me, and I know what my response would be.

I check the time and quickly polish the food off my plate. “I need to go soon.”

He cocks a sexy brow at me. “Where are you going?”

I gulp as his hand snakes up my thigh. “The cafe. I have my shift today.”

“No,” he orders as he nibbles the crook of my neck. “Stay.”

I try to pull away. “I have to go. It’s only a half-day. I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

“Mmm. I don’t care. Call in sick. Tell them you quit.” His hands roam under the oversized T-shirt that I use as a nightgown.

His nimble fingers know all of my sensitive spots. If this continues any longer, I really will give in.

I jump out of the chair and scurry across the room, putting as much distance between us as possible. I force out a giggle and try not to look too annoyed.

“I have to go,” I tell him.

“Come back.” He follows me and wraps his arms around me. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double the offer,” he says. I know that it’s a joke, but something about it stings a little. I wince and pull away.

Most girls would be elated to hear those words from a rich, handsome man, but I just feel cold. I shake my head. “No, I need this job.” Without another word, I retreat into the bedroom to get dressed. Nothing seems to go right today. I struggle to pull my shirt over my head and my skirt gets all bunched up and refuses to go around my waist.

When I come back out, Fletcher has disappeared. I can hear low rumblings in the garage and know that he is working in there, avoiding me. I don’t even know if he’s angry. He wouldn’t tell me either way. I know that he just wants to take care of me and he has more than enough money to do that. But I have always taken care of myself. I have built up a tough layer of self-protection. It is no longer a suit of armor anymore; it is as part of me as a second skin. I can’t just take it off like that. And what happens when he leaves? What happens when he no longer wants to take care of me? I still have Mom and my eviction notice to take care of. Those things won’t change, and I’m not sure how long he’ll be around.

It is a lazy Saturday toward the end of summer. All the tourists are gone and the children have gone back to school. Even Penelope Winston drops by quickly at her usual time and orders a small latte to go. She pays quickly and doesn’t even talk to me. I wipe down the empty counter, again and again, wishing that time would go faster.

I cannot keep myself from thinking about Fletcher. That sexy, impossible man. He waltzes into my life and thinks that he can just become the center of everything. Just because he has money, he thinks he can run everything, including my life. Is this what relationships are supposed to be like? I don’t really know, and I haven’t had the best example growing up.

But not being worried about money would be a pleasant change. It’s been so long that I don’t even remember how it’s like. Two hundred dollars and forty-three cents. I know the amount in my bank account down to the penny because every cent matters. I go to sleep counting the pennies in my head and I wake up thinking about where I can find more. I’m so sick of living this way.

I want to buy groceries that aren’t on sale. I want to get the best care for Mom instead of having to wait for hours at the free clinic. I want to go to school. I want a house filled with furniture that I picked out from a store. I want a life of my own.

Fletcher would take care of me, and then I won’t have to worry about money ever again. He has money. He has made that very clear. But what would that make me? My stomach sickens. A kept woman? A trophy girlfriend? A little arm candy he can take out whenever he fancies? A possessed object he can bring out and admire whenever he wants but never has to answer to? Having watched my mother growing up and seeing how she couldn’t leave my father despite all his abuse, I never want that life for myself.

I refill the container of coffee stirrers and open a new pack of paper filters. I want, no, I need my own life and I want a partner. That’s right, a partner, not a human wad of cash. Someone who is my equal and treats me as such. I don’t want to live like an appendage to a man, a wilting violet unable to stand on its own.

“A coffee please,” a familiar, deep voice says. I look up and see his smiling, hazel eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I smile despite myself. He is wearing a crisp white dress shirt, matched with dark jeans. His dark hair is finger-combed with that “just got out of bed” look that makes you want to shove him right back into bed.

He leans forward on the counter so our foreheads almost touch. “Just wanted to see you.”

I check the clock on the wall and it’s almost lunchtime. He couldn’t even wait for another twenty minutes. My cheeks feel warm.

“I just can’t stand being apart from you,” he smiles and adds. His hand reaches over and catches a loose strand of my hair. He wraps it a few times around his fingers and I can’t look away from his deep-set eyes. “I want to see you and I don’t want to wait another second.”

My heart melts. I’m not even sure what we had was a fight,