Page 64 of The Huckleberry Bookshop

“Is she okay?”

Athena’s bravado crumpled, her shoulders rounding in, head bowing. His heart raced as he witnessed the sudden change. Tears streaked from under the lenses of her glasses as though someone had turned on a hose, and she started shaking with sobs.

He wrapped his arms around her, rocking her, shocked at the violence of the storm that tore through her. How had she locked all of this inside? There’d been no sign she was struggling so fiercely, other than the odd flicker of what he’d assumed was annoyance or exhaustion.

“Let it all out. I’ve got you,” he whispered.

“You’re right,” she mumbled once her tears had slowed. “I stay busy because then I don’t have to think.” Her body trembled in his arms. “Then I don’t have to feel.”

Boy, did he ever understand that.

“What are you avoiding the most?” He stroked her hair, marveling at its silkiness.

“I see multiple sclerosis stealing my mom and her identity, as well as her vibrancy. I feel guilty whenever I’m not there helping, but she doesn’t need me hovering and worrying.” Athena nestled her cheek against his chest, then she ducked her head, swiping a sleeve across her face like a tissue. “Will she still be strong enough to hold her grandbabies, assuming I ever find anyone who can put up with me?”

Sobs rocked her again, and Mullens held her through the storm, wanting to be nowhere else but here.

When Athena believed she’d cried herself close to dehydration, she pulled back from Chad, her eyes a swollen mess. She’d needed that emotional release far more than she’d realized, but now that it was over, she was horribly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely able to glance at him. He must think she was a disaster, unable to handle her own life.

And worse—the man had finally opened up about himself, and she’d collapsed in an emotional ball of fatigue, pouring her own pain all over him like he’d declared it open season.

Lonnie had played games, allowing her to think they were connecting when they weren’t. But Chad was different. This felt real. She’d let him into the deepest, darkest places she kept hidden from others. And he’d talked about things she’d never read about in any of his countless interviews.

She had to believe this was real. That they were trying to move toward something special. She had to trust. Him. Herself. This.

She swiped at her wet cheeks, knocking her glasses crooked.

Chad reached out, tenderly lifting the frames from her face. He folded the fabric of his Armadillo Day sweatshirt over the lenses, rubbing them dry one at a time while she wiped her eyes. Athena sniffed, then pulled in a deep breath to center herself.

She reached for her glasses when he re-aimed them at her, but he pulled back, not letting her take them. She lowered her hands and held still while he tenderly placed the frames back on her face. She fought the surge of welling tears. This man had the power to devastate and, despite her abject resistance, had found his way past her armor, rendering her completely vulnerable.

She didn’t understand it. She wasn’t even sure if she’d forgiven him for the way he gave her so much attitude at work, and here she was kissing him, wanting him, practically ready to keep him.

“You okay?” His head tipped to the side, his quiet calm making her love him all the more. No wonder those parents had cried on him at that conference. It was like he was a giant magnet, creating a healing current that pulled away a person’s pain.

She sniffed and nodded. “Sorry I made it all about me.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Crying on you. You ask me one little question and whoosh.” She swept her fingers through the air, mimicking her earlier deluge.

He gave a half shrug. “You opened up. I appreciate the trust.”

“And I appreciate yours.” She squeezed his arm, hoping he understood just how much she’d needed to hear him share more about himself. “So one other thing…”

“The women?”

The women? Oh, right. The ones always photographed with him. Smiling fans and cheek kisses. She knew that was just for show.

At least she was pretty sure it was.

“Now that you mention it…what’s the deal with them? It’s never the same one twice.”

“I haven’t had anything serious in a long time.”

“I know.” She groaned and rolled her eyes, feeling the sudden need to keep her hands busy.

---