Page 37 of Marked

“Mediterranean?” My stomach practically did a backflip of joy. After that amazing pizza for lunch with Marcus—which I was still dreaming about, if I’m being honest—I was ready to expand my culinary adventures. “Please tell me they have realspanakopita. Not that frozen stuff that tastes like cardboard.”

“Athena would be mortally offended if anyone even suggested she’d serve frozen anything.” He laughed. “Everything’s made from scratch. Her lambsouvlakiwill make you forget your own name.”

“Is that a challenge?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“In cars, restaurants, or leather jackets?” His voice dropped an octave lower, and suddenly we weren’t just talking about food anymore.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “What are you competing in exactly?”

“All of the above. And company.” He winked at me again, and I swore the temperature in the car rose ten degrees.

We drove past the Cedar Grove town limits, the dense forest pressing in on both sides of the road. In the fallingdusk, the trees seemed to lean in, watching us pass. I shivered, remembering my weird dreams from last night.

“Cold?” Caleb asked, already reaching for the climate controls.

“No, just…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain that the forest was giving me the creeps without sounding like a complete idiot. “Long day, I guess.”

“Hmm.” His hand found mine again, and this time it wasn’t an accident. His skin was burning hot against mine. “Well, let me help you forget about it.”

The worst part? I was pretty sure he could.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into a small town that looked like it belonged in a European travel magazine, all historic brick buildings and twinkling streetlamps. Caleb parked the car in front of a charming building with whitewashed walls and blue trim, strings of warm lights crisscrossing the outdoor patio. A hand-painted sign read Athena’sTavernain elegant blue letters.

“After you,” he said, appearing at my door before I could even reach for the handle. Show-off.

The scent of grilled meat, fresh herbs, and something tantalizingly exotic hit me as soon as we walked in. My stomach chose that moment to remind me—loudly—that lunch had been hours ago. Caleb chuckled, his hand finding the small of my back as he guided me past tables draped in blue-and-white checkered cloths to a secluded corner booth.

The interior was cozy and warm, the rough stone walls decorated with black-and-white photos of Greek islands. Copper pots hung from the ceiling, and somewhere,bouzoukimusic played softly.

“I take it you approve?” Caleb asked as I tried not to obviously drool at the plates of food passing by our table.

“If everything tastes half as good as it smells, I might have to move to this town instead.”

“Now that,” Caleb said, sliding into the booth next to me instead of across like a normal person would, “is something we can discuss.”

A tiny woman who could only be Athena descended on our table like a force of nature, all flowing skirts and jangling bracelets. “Caleb! Too long, too long!” She swatted his shoulder with a menu. “And who is this?” Her dark eyes sparkled as they landed on me. “Finally, someone pretty to look at besides my plates!”

“This is Kai,” Caleb said, his voice warm with something that made my cheeks heat. “Kai, meet Athena, the best chef this side of Santorini.”

“Flattery won’t get you extra baklava,” she warned, but she was beaming. “Now, what can I get you to drink?”

“Wine?” Caleb asked me. When I nodded, he turned to Athena. “The house red, please.”

“Efharisto,” (thank you) she replied with a wink, already whisking away.

“So,” I said, trying to focus on the menu instead of how Caleb’s thigh was pressed against mine in the booth, “what’s good here? Besides everything, which I’m sure you’re about to say.”

“Guilty.” His laugh rumbled through me where we touched. “But themoussakahere? Life-changing.”

“Life-changing, huh?” I arched an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty big claim.”

“I never make claims I can’t back up.” The way he said it made my scar tingle, a warm sensation spreading across my skin. I shifted in my seat, trying to put a respectable distance between us, but my body seemed to have other ideas, instinctively leaning toward his warmth.

Athena returned with wine and a plate of appetizers I hadn’t heard us order. “To start,” she announced. “Realtzatziki, not that supermarket nonsense.Dolmades, spanakopita, and”—she fixed me with a stern look—“you’re too skinny. Eat.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I laughed, already reaching for what looked like the best spanakopita I’d ever seen. The phyllo was perfectly crisp, the filling rich and fragrant. “Oh my God.”

“Told you,” Caleb said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He raised his wineglass. “Yiamas,” (to our health).

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