Page 38 of The Huckleberry Bookshop

And don’t take Chad so darn seriously.

Jenny, who’d waited for Athena to leave the washroom first, moved past Chad’s table, stealing an onion ring from his plate.

“Hey, I’m telling Dylan you’re a thief!” he protested.

“He already knows.” She leaned forward, mocking. “I stole that grumpy bear’s heart, didn’t I?”

“Really?” Chad gave her a reassessing look. “I thought you two hated each other?”

Jenny laughed, waving him off. “Mullens, you can’t steal what doesn’t exist!”

She walked past Athena, surreptitiously giving her two thumbs up.

Athena smiled but kept her focus on Glenn. Not Chadwick Mullens, who was breaking every nutrition rule a smart pro athlete would religiously follow.

The man was like a toddler begging for attention.

“We’ve both published books,” Glenn said, smiling at her. Their plates had been cleared away even though she hadn’t quite finished, and Athena wondered if their date was winding down.

She took a sip of her herbal tea, grateful it hadn’t been taken away as well. “Oh?”

“Karen said you’ve put together a cookbook?”

“Yes. I’m working on a second one right now and we’re donating a lot of the proceeds to charity.” Thanks to Chad.

She hated to admit how much his gesture had warmed her heart. Any thoughts of sabotaging his involvement in her project had gone straight out the window when her agent had mentioned that part.

“You cook?”

“I do.”

“I don’t.” He smiled like he’d struck gold.

Her attention drifted to Chad again, and she thought back to several remarks he’d made while cooking. Despite his image, the man knew his way around a kitchen.

She eyed his sweater and how it stretched over his tight shoulders, his rock-hard abs. That man didn’t eat onion rings. Not regularly.

Or stacks of doughnuts, which had arrived while she’d been in the washroom. Same with the slice of chocolate-coconut pie.

How could one human even eat all that, after his double cheeseburger with bacon, fries and onion rings?

She sighed, wishing she could ban Mrs. Fisher from delivering any more food to the Dragons’ star forward.

“No wonder the team can’t bag a W,” she muttered.

“A what?”

Athena blinked at Glenn, realizing her attention had drifted again. “Oh! Sorry. Sports speak. It means a win. The Dragons are one of the worst-ranked teams in the league.”

“I don’t follow football.”

“It’s, uh, hockey.”

He laughed good-naturedly, his kind face bright and open.

“Better not admit to the football thing around here,” she said out of the side of her mouth. She gestured to the TV in a back corner, which was playing college ball. Now that one of their own had made it to that level, the town was fully in when it came to the sport.

Glenn laughed again. “Thanks for the tip.”

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