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“ Y ou didn’t quit.”

It was Monday afternoon and Chadwick Mullens stood in Athena’s office doorway, one thick, muscled shoulder pressing into the doorjamb.

Athena’d had a feeling he’d appear at some point today, but not to apologize for Friday’s drinking at the gala.

Any time a player missed an appointment with her—or the team’s physical therapist—the managers and coaches heard about it.

As a result, she had very few no-shows, even if the men didn’t always follow her advice or their personalized meal plans.

And since Chad was no longer in her calendar—thanks to her removal of him—the word had likely reached their head coach, and therefore gotten back to Chad.

You mess with the bull, you’re going to get the horns. Merry Christmas, Chadwick.

Athena continued working, ignoring the sting of guilt she felt for her bold move in having him taken off her roster.

A few years ago she’d never have had the guts.

But now that she was in her thirties? Well, she had a new confidence in herself, her skills, and also in how she expected to be treated.

Living with a hockey player—even for only five months—had taught her a lot.

She studiously kept her focus on tweaking the formatting for a gluten-free recipe, ready to defend her position on removing him from her appointment book.

Unlike Chad, the player who’d requested the recipe was fully on board with taking care of his health and building his strength in order to contribute to the team. No matter what.

Maybe it was because he was responsible for a family.

Or maybe his wife figured that, for the sake of sanity, the family of five would all eat the same meals.

Which meant they ate gluten-free to accommodate their seven-year-old celiac son, something Athena was more than happy to incorporate when sharing recipes to go with the man’s dietary plan.

Maybe that was what Chad needed to whip him into shape—a family. Things changed when you were responsible for others, and a wife and kids might offer a little motivation to alter his self-centered actions and toe the line.

“What are you snorting about?” he asked.

“Imagining you as a dad.”

She adjusted the spacing on the digital document and sent it to her printer.

“What? Why?” He jerked upright in the doorway.

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her sweetened huckleberry tea.

“You pregnant?” His tone went softer, more seductive, undoubtedly with the intention of melting her undergarments.

Little did he know hers were made of high-quality steel and were unmeltable by the likes of him.

“Because I’ve heard I can get a woman in the family way with just one look.

Never had a chance to prove it until now. ”

She sprayed the mouthful of tea back into her cup and started coughing.

Grinning, Chad took that as an invitation, entering the room and settling into the chair opposite her desk.

Eyes watering, Athena spun in her chair to grab the papers from her whirling printer. A stack of boxes was in the way, so she stood and moved a heavy carton of books aside, then snatched the recipes, tucking one into the player’s folder and the extra into a folder for her NHL cookbook project.

Chad had made himself comfortable and was grinning at her confidently while man-spreading in the chair across from her desk. Worse, he sported that wicked, unpredictable twitch of his lips where she never knew what he was going to say next.

“Did you need something?” she snapped. It was becoming clear that he hadn’t heard from the coach. Which meant he’d be visiting her office a second time this week. And that was twice more than she could handle.

“Maybe you did quit.” He leaned forward, squinting at the text on one of the boxes taking over her space. “Moving out?”

“You wish.”

She dropped into her chair, guiltily silencing her cell phone, which chirped with an incoming call from her mom.

Darianna was having another tough day, her multiple sclerosis flaring up, and Athena had promised to get a grocery list from her.

Her dad could run out, but Athena felt better having him at home when her mom was going through a rough patch.

Plus she quite enjoyed grocery shopping, and her father always forgot one or two key items on the list.

“New cookbooks for us to take home?” Chad asked, gesturing to the boxes.

“To use as doorstops? Not a chance.”

“Coordinating another food drive for hungry kids?”

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?”

His eyes dropped to the wide silver rings lining his fingers.

“It almost seems as though this might all be too good for you, Chadwick. Like you feel it’s more than you deserve.”

“Sorry. Did I step into the team shrink’s office?” He leaned back, squinting at the sign on her open office door.

“You know, some of the guys on the team care. A lot. They want more and you’re holding them back by acting like a spoiled teenager.” She pushed back from the desk, stepped toward the door and pulled it wide. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a call with my publisher.”

He slid his frame from her desk. “Publisher?”

“Oh, right. You probably thought that cookbook I gave you at the beginning of the season was a gag gift. It’s actually a bestseller, and surprise, surprise, they have me writing another one.

” She patted his arm as he blinked at her from the doorway.

“I’m sure your agent deleted your invitation to join the project, since we’re all well aware that the link between dietary choices and performance isn’t something you subscribe to. ”

She smiled and shut the door, feeling only slightly bad about his wounded expression.

Just slightly.

Her publisher.

Second cookbook.

Mullens stared at the Christmas wreath on Athena’s closed door and rubbed his jaw. He’d forgotten to shave in his rush to get to the rink before she was done for the day. She worked odd hours and was off-site frequently enough that he never knew where she’d be or when.

She thought he didn’t want more from his career and that he was sabotaging himself.

He muttered a curse, thinking of the corner he’d painted himself into.

It had started on his first day during the dietary orientation for new players.

He’d been eager to strut his stuff, and show everyone he didn’t belong on the low-ranked team and that he wouldn’t be there for long.

He’d work hard, be a star and get traded somewhere good by the end of season.

But then practically the first words out of Athena Gavras’s mouth had hit him right in the core. Inadvertently allowing his tamped down memories of pain and loneliness to resurface.

Those damn pancakes. The last family meal before it all fell apart.

He was not going to think about it.