Falling Deep: Instalove Steamy Short romance series

Chapter 1

Mila

The café I work at, Bayley’s Corner café, is situated close to the elementary school my son attends. So close, it’s within walking distance. Morning shift is always crazy busy after school drop-off. A group of mean moms places their order, which I repeat back to them. I don’t want to get anything wrong and have any of them gripe at me.

Got it. Two soy lattes, one almond milk chai, and one oat milk dandelion coffee coming up. I smile at the four women, but they ignore me and return to their conversation. I’m invisible to them, even though my son is in the same class as their children. They know it too, but they still pretend they don’t know who I am. I may only be a waitress for now, but I have my pride.

My son, Ben and I moved to Bayley Cove a few months ago, and we’re still finding our feet. We moved from the city because we love the beach and the small-town feel of the place. But making friends is harder than I expected. Folks in this affluent area are cliquey. I don’t care about making friends for myself, but I want my son to feel like he fits in.

I didn’t have the privilege of an education past high school and falling pregnant with Ben at eighteen didn’t help my career prospects. Some days, everything feels like a struggle, but I plan on getting a job that pays better once I’ve completed my online web design course.

Cherise! hisses the brunette with the pixie cut to the blond with lip fillers. I think her name is Heather. She cranes her head either side of where I’m working and she looks irritated, like my curves are in her way, blocking her view.

Don’t turn around, but Nick White just walked in, and he’s looking our way. Cherise bats her lashes and flips her hair. Her preening is so over the top I want to laugh but stop myself. I slip the notepad into the pocket of my apron and collect the cutlery and spare glasses from the table to make room for the order.

Ha, about time, Cherise says, her high-pitched, breathy voice sounding as entitled as ever. I knew he’d come around eventually. I mean, it’s been ages since Lisa was around. I don’t even know who she’s talking about, but she’s so smug, I feel sorry for the guy.

Ooh, he’s so hot, Heather says, "But honey, he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at her." One of them gasps and then their voices drop to a low whisper. By the time I hear the comment, I’m already a few feet away from their table with my back turned and an arm full of glassware and plates.

I glance at the door to see who they’re talking about. Oh yeah, I can see why this guy has all the hens in the henhouse clucking.

He is hot for an older guy, as in hot with a capital H. Tall, tanned, muscular and casually dressed, but you can see he has style. A strand of wavy brown hair falls over his baby blues and his bright white smile stands out against his close-cropped beard.

As I approach the counter to serve him, our eyes connect. My legs wobble, but I right myself before I drop the items in my arms. I’ve seen him at the playground, though I’ve never spoken to him before now.

Morning, how can I help you? I ask, noticing the squeak in my voice, and hoping he doesn’t.

Hey, he says. Can I please have three apple cinnamon muffins to go? His deep, smooth voice washes over me in waves and I struggle to remember the simple order. Thankfully, I keep my hands steady for long enough to package up the muffins without making a fool of myself. But when he hands me the money and our fingers touch, I feel electric sparks