Page 39 of The Huckleberry Bookshop

She smiled complacently. Sure, Glenn wasn’t what you’d traditionally call hot, but he was easy to hang around.

Chad waved to Mrs. Fisher. “Mrs. F., can I get a soda? And make sure it’s none of that diet stuff. I want sugar.”

Athena locked her jaw, steeling herself. If he wanted to skate like his legs weighed eight hundred pounds in tomorrow’s game, then fine. It was his choice. His career.

“I’m sure he can burn it off,” Glenn said politely, noticing that her attention had drifted once again.

“The amount of fat, sugar, salt…” Athena closed her eyes.

Pieces of the Chad puzzle were swirling in her mind, driving her crazy.

He knew his way around a kitchen. Sure, his chopping skills needed help, and he didn’t understand the smoke points of different cooking oils, but did the average person?

The truth, as she saw it, was that the man either cooked a fair amount, despite his protestations that he didn’t, or else he put in significant time studying up before they filmed. Even though he couldn’t possibly know what she was about to prepare and which skills he’d need.

But the biggest truth was that to get a body like his, he couldn’t eat the way he was tonight.

In fact, he was looking paler than he had ten minutes ago, and he seemed to be losing speed the further he got into his binge-fest.

“He’s messing with me,” Athena muttered, dropping her elbows onto the table. “As always.” She shook her head. Whatever Chad was up to, she would not let him ruin her date. “Hey, so you must like reading?”

Glenn lit up. “I do. Although mostly for work. Americanism and identity in novels published between 1855 and 1900 have been my siren’s call lately.”

“Interesting.” She took a sip of her huckleberry tea, nodding politely.

There went the chance of sharing books in that cozy little home library she’d envisioned when she’d first heard about their potential date. Last night she’d stayed up way too late, having gotten sucked into a book she’d ordered for the store.

Just before Christmas she’d been joking with her friends Hannah and Cass about cavemen romance being a genre. One thing had led to another and suddenly she was up until two in the morning, chewing on the corner of her thumbnail as Corg went alpha on Lucy, claiming her in ways Athena didn’t even realize existed.

Well, Chad probably did…

Speaking of the man, his usual healthy complexion seemed to have taken on a greenish tinge. Or was that just the diner’s fluorescent lighting and her hopeful feelings related to his general doom?

Chad leaned back in his chair, his eyes scrunched shut, his face pale.

Good. She hoped he barfed in that beautiful red sports car he’d parked out front.

He stood suddenly, wavered on his feet and then beelined to the door, his complexion definitely an unnatural shade of green. He hit the door at top speed, and Athena gripped the edge of her table, thoughts tumbling through her mind.

It could be the flu.

Yes, it was probably the flu.

It definitely couldn’t be an indicator that, when it came to his daily diet and what foods his body was used to, Chadwick Raul Mullens was a big, fat, sexy liar.

What had he been trying to prove? He was like a desperate teenager begging for attention, determined to come off as someone cool. He hadn’t acted like this over a woman in, well, ever. Even as a teen he’d been too smart to act this dumb. Or at least too busy raising himself and working hard at hockey.

Mullens dropped his hands to his hips and paced the empty sidewalk outside the diner, glad to feel the roiling in his gut start to settle.

At least he hadn’t barfed in the Longhorn Diner or out here on Main Street for all the town to see. The only problem was that now he had to go back in, pay his bill and walk past what was surely a gloating Athena—twice.

It could be worse, he thought, staring at his beautiful, cherry-red Corvette. He could have thrown up all over its pretty interior.

An older man with almost-white hair came sauntering out of the diner. He was a cowboy through and through, a frown deeply etched into the lines of his face. He spotted Mullens and came over to slap him on the shoulder.

“You sure can put that food away. I ain’t seen nothin’ like that since Carmichael was a teen. Oh, how our mother would get all up in arms. He’d eat everything in sight, like my great-nephew Myles. Only more!”

“Uh, thanks.”

---