Free The Mighty Quinns: Thom by Kate Hoffmann

“You’re perfectly safe,” he assured her. “You’re with The Beast.”
    * * *
    E XCEPT TO M ALIN , he didn’t feel like a beast at all. In truth, Thom Quinn was nothing like Tommy the Beast. He was quiet and soft-spoken, a bit unsure of himself, nothing at all resembling his on-ice persona. She hadn’t expected to respect him so much.
    He led her into a narrow alleyway, and Malin frowned. The scent of baked goods suddenly filled the air, and Thom grinned. “Smell that?”
    “Yes! What kind of place is this?”
    He climbed a short flight of steps and held open a screen door. “It’s called Doughnut Nirvana. A friend of mine owns it. They make fifty varieties of doughnuts every day.”
    They walked directly into the kitchen, which was blazing with light and activity. Everyone greeted Thom by name and he returned the greetings, knowing each of the workers personally. A woman wearing a black baseball cap hurried toward them and pulled Thom into a fierce hug.
    “Malin, this is Nora. She owns this place.”
    Malin held out her hand, but Nora ignored the gesture and pulled her into a hug. “Nice to meet you. So nice,” she said. “Tommy’s never brought a girlfriend with him.”
    “Oh, I’m not his—”
    “Well, you must be someone special. He’s never even brought a guest before.” Nora drew her along to a small table set in a quiet corner of the kitchen. A few seconds later, Thom joined them with a couple of mugs filled with steaming coffee.
    He sat down across from her. “Get ready to be amazed,” he said.
    Before she could ask why, one of the bakers appeared with a plate heaped with freshly made doughnuts. “I have very few weaknesses,” Malin admitted, “but kind men and freshly made pastries are at the top of the list. Are these all for us?”
    “Nora calls this her tasting menu. She expects us to taste each one and give her feedback.”
    Malin giggled. “This is nirvana.”
    “I thought you might like it,” he said.
    “How did you know?”
    “Try this one.” He held up a long rectangular doughnut with a strip of crispy bacon laid on top of what smelled like maple frosting.
    Malin took a bite and rolled her eyes. “So good.” She took another bite, then a sip of her coffee.
    As Thom had promised, the doughnuts kept coming, all with imaginative flavor combinations, beautifully frosted and still slightly warm. It was the most perfect breakfast she’d ever eaten.
    “We have to take some pictures for Twitter,” Malin said.
    “Who’s going to care what I eat for breakfast?” he asked.
    “All your followers,” she said. “And it won’t be just to inform them of what you ate. You’re also going to plug the bakery. You just watch. She’ll have a line out the door by next week.”
    “How is that possible?”
    Malin lined the plates up in front of him, then held up her phone to take a photo. “Smile,” she said. She took one picture, then told him to give her a thumbs-up for the next. “Now pick up that chocolate doughnut and take a big bite out of it.” She snapped one last photo, then showed Thom the results. “I like the thumbs-up best.”
    “Me, too,” Thom said.
    “Now we have to compose the tweet. How about, ‘Breakfast of champions. Doughnut Nirvana. Hashtag off-season.’”
    “Hashtag?”
    “It’s just a little thing you add for humor. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you eat like this during the season.”
    “And now you post it?”
    “Not yet. We’ll do it after we leave or else there’ll be a swarm of people here trying to get your autograph.” Malin laughed. “Oh, look, you have another five hundred followers.”
    He shook his head. “Are you sure we ought to let the team know I eat doughnuts for breakfast?”
    Malin smiled. He was starting to think strategically. “It’s all in good fun. And it helps you appear a bit more approachable.” Malin plucked a strawberry-filled doughnut off the plate. “When did you meet Nora?”
    “We were in foster care