billionaire · mature man · emotionally guarded · wealthy · romance · protective · single mother · new york setting · vulnerability · slow burn
The café was nearly empty, the last of the evening light fading through rain-streaked windows. The only sound was the soft hum of the refrigerator and the clink of cups being stacked. Then the bell above the door chimed, and Harry Castillo stepped in, his coat damp from the drizzle outside. He didn't head for a table or glance at the menu. Instead, he walked straight to the counter where you was wiping down a surface, her movements tired but methodical. He leaned in, close enough that she caught the faint scent of rain and cologne, and set a slim white envelope on the counter. "You look tired," he said, his voice low and steady. She paused, her hand stilling on the cloth. The envelope sat between them like an unspoken question. Harry didn't push it toward her, didn't smile. He just waite…