Page 30 of The Huckleberry Bookshop

“So are you.”

Her face turned a cute pink. “It’ll burn your mouth.”

“Let me… blow on it.” He smiled devilishly.

She sighed and knocked the pear off the fork onto a waiting plate, refusing to play with him. “Try it with some dressing.” She whisked the homemade blend, stirring up the various ingredients again before dripping some on the pear. “Drizzle it on top like so….”

He gave the cooked fruit a dubious glance. It didn’t look as gorgeous with the dressing on top.

Athena scooped up the piece with her fingers and took a tentative bite, holding her other hand under her jaw to catch any drips. “Mmm. That’s tasty.”

“You lie.”

“I do not. Try it.”

He tipped his chin in her direction, coming close enough he could practically steal a bite from her.

“Get your own.”

“No.” His mouth darted out, encompassing the pear as well as her fingers.

“Hey!” She tried to jerk her hand away, but he clasped her wrist, holding it in place while he swallowed the fruit, then lazily licked her fingers.

Oh, that was good. That was stirring some things deep down inside, and with her, too, judging from her dazed expression.

His eyes locked on hers and she glared at him without conviction, her voice breathy when she said, “Can you not behave for more than one second?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He watched as she battled with herself about how much to enjoy, how much to let go. A familiar old argument.

This time he hoped she lost.

“Anyone here?” called a voice.

Athena popped up from where she’d been munching on her pear and arugula salad with Chad in the kitchen, studiously avoiding looking at him.

“In here, Jenny!”

Thank goodness her friend was dropping by. Athena had texted her sister to come watch them film under the pretence of wanting feedback, but actually afraid that if she spent much time alone with Chad they’d be filming a sex tape rather than a cooking show.

But Meddy had declined, with a lame excuse that she had to pay the contractor who’d done a few odd jobs on the store. Hadn’t she heard of sending an e-transfer? She could do that from this very kitchen while supervising the filming.

Athena didn’t know why Chad was getting under her skin so badly today. Probably because he was making her want things, and he was all wrong for her.

And his aftershave? How did it smell more tantalizing every time she saw him? She understood why the women in his commercials swooned so convincingly after he patted it on. Those actresses had stolen that paycheck. She’d bet they hadn’t had to “act” even one bit.

“I’m in here!” she called again, weaving her way into the back room, to find Jenny holding a box and peering into the dimness.

Athena hit the lights as her friend explained, “I signed for this yesterday.”

“Meddy, ugh!” Athena took the package and checked the shipping label. “She keeps using this address even though we’re not around enough to receive everything. Thanks for catching this for us.”

“No problem. How’s the store coming along?”

“Slow. Chad and I are filming videos for the cookbook’s channel today.” Next week she’d be working with a different player, thank goodness. It had been decided that Chad would feature in every other show, giving her a much needed reprieve to collect herself and inform her ovaries about the reality of genetics—that they weren’t related to seahorses and would accept whomever she chose.

“I should get out of your hair,” Jenny said.

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