Page 7 of The Huckleberry Bookshop

She crossed her arms, glancing at the boxes, hoping he couldn’t read the labels from where he sat. To save a few bucks, as well as hassles over signing for the deliveries, she’d used her work address instead of her future bookstore’s. Next month the Huckleberry Bookshop would open in her hometown of Sweetheart Creek, a dream she and her sister Medora—Meddy—had clung to for years. Now it was happening. And so she now had an office filled with heavy boxes, several floors away from her parked car.

She was going to have biceps that rivaled Chad’s by the time the shop was open.

“Did you need something?” Athena repeated, finally daring to look directly at him. His big brown eyes were rimmed with long black lashes that always made her think of a little boy, rather than the chiseled athlete with tattoos and a stance that said he was all man—and that he’d fight anyone who suggested otherwise. There was something in those eyes that drew her in and caused her to be fond of him without reason.

And that was a problem.

“You can’t quit, Tina.”

“You think irritating me is cute, don’t you?”

He grinned again.

The day she answered to “Tina” was the day he’d win.

Never happening. She’d rather give up cooking and reading—her two favorite hobbies.

“When’s your last day?”

“Who said I’m quitting?”

“You did.”

“After you tossed your whiskey on me, despite the—”

“I didn’t!” He sat up, the casual vibe gone from his loose limbs.

“Fine! Scotch! Rye! Whatever it was!”

“I was catching you.”

“You were getting rid of the evidence!” She stood, her breath coming fast and hard.

He scowled, standing as well.

She pressed a finger against her desk’s surface. “Just because you don’t listen to my advice doesn’t mean others on the team don’t still value me—despite your best efforts.” She waved the folder of recipes as validation.

“You take yourself too seriously.”

“And you don’t take your privileged career seriously enough!”

He perched on the edge of her desk, his expression dark, his jaw tight. He inhaled slowly, the anger falling away, the cavalier ease returning. He smiled, and it felt similar to a blast of spring sunshine after a long bitter winter. Whoever had told him he was dead sexy with those eyes of his did the rest of womankind a serious disservice. The man wielded them like a weapon.

Well, she had one, too.

“I’ve removed your appointments from my schedule. Eat and drink whatever you want. You’re now free of my ineffective bimonthly nagging.”

The smile dropped. “You didn’t.”

“Of course I did. Why would I force you to do something you hate?” She tossed the folder onto a stack of boxes and flashed him a deceptively sweet smile.

“You’re going to ruin my career? Over one drink? One I didn’t even get to enjoy before you decided to bathe in it?”

“Chadwick Mullens,” she said sternly, leaning toward him across her small desk, “you made the choice. Repeatedly. It’s clear you don’t care.”

“Tina… Come on.”

“I’m curious, though.” She gestured to the wider world beyond the arena. “This is all good enough for you—what you have? You no longer feel the need to invest in your future? You have so much that you can safely sabotage a few years?”

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