Page 13 of The Baby Dragon Bakery (The Baby Dragon #2)

L avinia got to the Baby Dragon, wearing the outfit that Theo had disapproved of, the one with the leather skirt.

Because she had liked it, she had video-called Genevieve for a second opinion on Sunday night, and Genevieve had loved it, saying she looked like an absolute babe, so Lavinia had gone with it.

She didn’t understand why Theo had told her not to wear it.

It was almost as if he was trying to sabotage her chances—but why would he do that? She was being absurd.

She needed to stop being such a hopeless romantic. It was bad for her mental health. She needed to switch gears and be a realistic romantic. That would keep her heart protected. Yes, a realistic romantic sounded good. She would trademark that and make it a thing.

When Lavinia entered the cafe on Saturday morning, Calahan was nowhere to be seen; he must have been in the kitchen.

She quickly took off her light jacket, setting it down with her purse under the counter, then started taking down the chairs from the tables.

She was just finishing up a table when Calahan came out from the kitchen.

A little jitter shot through her. He was wearing a navy blue sweater with beige trousers, and when he saw her, his eyes widened behind his glasses. He stopped in his tracks, jaw slackening.

She gave him a wide smile. “Good morning.”

He blinked twice. “Morning,” he replied, voice awed.

That put a little pep in her step. She bounced around, taking down the rest of the chairs, and Calahan came over to help her. His gaze kept straying her way, which only made her excitement grow.

Calahan paid attention, and he was caring. The day at the cafe was busy, as usual, but throughout, Calahan kept making excuses to come over and ask if she needed help, or offer to take orders to the tables for her. Then he would chat with her for a bit at the counter.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she felt like dancing.

She always got like this in the beginning of a crush, when it was all exciting and hopeful.

She mapped out the ways it could turn out perfectly.

Sunday was Calahan’s day off, as well; maybe they could go to the farmers’ market together sometime!

She could imagine it now, walking hand in hand through the stalls, sipping an autumnal drink and trying out various snacks.

They could go on study dates together at the library . . . or, oh, the ceramics store had just started a new date-night pottery class! That would be fun!

This would be the moment Theo would tell her to calm down and not get ahead of herself, but it was just so fun imagining things going well. It was the only thing that kept her going—hope.

Around midday, the rush gave way to a slow period, and Lavinia yawned, feeling tired.

She leaned against the counter, rolling her ankles to stretch them, the chunky platform loafers heavy on her feet.

Calahan came out, his shoulder brushing against hers as he came to stand with her against the counter.

“Tired?” he asked. She nodded. “It always hits me around midday, too.”

“We need sugar,” Lavinia said, turning her gaze to the display case of bakery items they sourced from the Rolling Pin. She grabbed a butter pecan chocolate chip cookie, then split it in half.

Calahan’s eyes brightened. “Yes,” he said. “One hundred percent yes, but we need to enjoy it properly.”

She raised a brow, intrigued. “Meaning?”

“Give me a second,” he said, flashing her an easy smile.

He grabbed napkins and disappeared with the cookie halves on each, then came back a little while later, gingerly holding the napkins in his hands. They were warm.

“Ooh, yes,” she said, as he handed her one. The heat seeped into her palm, and she inhaled the nutty aroma of brown butter.

“And don’t forget the cold milk,” Calahan said, opening the fridge and pouring them both small glasses of milk. A bolt of pleasure beat through her. They were so similar!

“You are speaking my language right now,” Lavinia said. “I don’t trust people who can have warm chocolate and wash it down with water.”

“Diabolical,” Calahan agreed.

They both bit into their warm cookies, into the crunch of the pecans and soft chocolate chips. At the same time, they took sips of their cold milk, and she hummed, content. After they finished off their cookies and milk, Lavinia crumpled up her napkin, tossing it into the bin.

“That was divine,” Lavinia said. Calahan looked like he was about to agree, but then he laughed. She furrowed her brows. “What?”

“One second.” He grabbed a fresh napkin and wet it by the sink. She furrowed her brows, confused, but then he got closer. He wiped the napkin on her chin, shaking his head with amusement.

“Chocolate,” he said.

“Oops.” She giggled, feeling fizzy inside.

Then a customer came up to the counter, and she got busy taking their order, while Calahan disappeared back into the kitchen.

As she made the customer’s drink, she couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself. Operation Calahan really was a fantastic idea. She had been so silly about Theo; she must have been confused. She had wanted romantic love, so she had probably latched onto Theo because he was always there.

There was no time to be confused now. She only had a few months until winter, when she would be the same age her mother was when she met her future husband.

Theo wasn’t the one written for her—obviously.

If he was, he would have kissed her that night.

He hadn’t—which was a harsh but necessary reminder.

On the other hand, Calahan did seem to like her, and for once, she wanted to be loved and not have to worry about how the guy felt. Love was supposed to be easy, Mama always said.

But it never was. The last two times Lavinia had been in love, it hadn’t worked out.

Once was in high school, with a lacrosse player who was popular and funny.

The second time was in university, with an art major who was insightful and deep.

Both times, the boys concerned had liked her a lot while they were dating—she could tell they did!

Until they eventually got tired of her and dumped her.

That was a train of thought she could not dwell on for too long or she’d ruin all her makeup with crying.

The workday continued, and a little while before closing, she saw Theo enter through the front doors as she was wiping down a table.

He wore a beige utility jacket with black jeans, hair mussed from the wind.

She waved, and he waved back, coming over.

As he got closer, his gaze swept over her, taking in her outfit.

His eyes widened, his steps faltering. She could feel him staring and her skin flushed with heat. But he was only staring because it was the outfit he had advised her against; there was no other reason he would be looking at her so intently.

“Did you get off work early?” she asked, going back behind the counter while he came up to the other side. Just as Theo was about to respond, Calahan popped out to the front. Theo’s expression changed, darkening so slightly that Lavinia must have been imagining it.

“Hey,” Calahan said to Theo. He didn’t wait for a reply before turning to Lavinia: “What are you up to later?”

It was almost time for closing. “Nothing much,” she said, heartbeat quickening.

“Do you want to go to the town movie night?” Calahan asked. “Maybe grab dinner after?”

Lavinia resisted the urge to squeal out loud, but she most definitely squealed inside her head. She pretended to think for a moment, not replying as immediately as she wanted to.

“Sure,” she replied, smiling. “Sounds fun.”

“Great.” He touched her elbow, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Lavinia turned back to Theo, mouth splitting into a grin. She loved when things went perfectly according to plan. It gave her a huge high. “Ah!”

Theo made no response.

“The stars are aligning!” Lavinia told him. “Operation Calahan is working!”

It was just as she had imagined; maybe she had manifested this. Actually—maybe she and Calahan were meant to be? Everything was working out—and on a quicker timeline than she had originally accounted for! That had to be a sign.

Theo grunted in response, and she furrowed her eyebrows at him. He was so quiet. She wondered if he had had a phone call with his parents. She knew that he had a difficult relationship with them—a horrible one. She didn’t hate many people, but she did hate his parents. They always made Theo so sad.

“Hel- lo ,” she said, waving a hand in front of Theo’s face. “Earth to Theo.”

He blinked. “Hm?”

“No reaction?”

He ran a hand through his wavy locks. “Dinner?” he said, eyebrows furrowed. “Isn’t that, like, a lot? So soon?”

Now it was her turn to furrow her eyebrows at him. “No?”

He huffed. If she didn’t know any better, she would even say he seemed annoyed. But what did he have to be annoyed about?

“Did we have something planned for tonight that I forgot about?” she asked. He blinked, the irritation washing away from his face.

“No,” he replied. He scratched the back of his neck. “I was going to say we could go to the town movie together but . . .” He trailed off.

“Oh.” They had been to loads of town movie nights together. “Rain check?” she asked.

“Yeah, fine,” he mumbled.

“Oookay.”

He was being moody, that was all. She would ask him about it later; at the moment, he didn’t seem too keen to discuss anything.

“Anyway. You got off work early?” she asked. He nodded. “Did you want me to make you something?”

He shrugged. “I don’t really want anything anymore.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let me get you some chai.”

Maybe he just needed a little cozy drink to soften his mood.

She went to the kitchen and made him a cup, then brought it out in a mug, handing it to him.

He sat down at the bar and took a sip. She got busy with other customers while he pensively drank his chai, and when he was about halfway done, the dark cloud over his head seemed to have vanished.

Now, he just looked tired. “Was work okay?” she asked.

“Yeah . . .” He trailed off, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know.” He sighed.

“You’re still feeling like you don’t enjoy it anymore?

” Lavinia asked. He had mentioned it to her last week, and then again on Sunday during dinner at her place.

She could sense that he was still figuring out how he felt, so she didn’t want to push or pry, but she did want to be here for him if he wanted to talk to her about it.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he replied. “I love baking. I love working for Suki. So why am I not happy?”

Lavinia thought about it. “Maybe you need a change of scenery?” she suggested. That only seemed to stress him out further.

“But I could never leave the Rolling Pin,” he said. “Not after Suki took a chance on me. Besides, I wouldn’t even know what to do if I did leave the bakery. I just . . .” He broke off, exasperated. Lavinia frowned. She hated seeing him like this.

“Do you want me to cancel with Calahan?” she asked. She would feel bad, but Theo was her priority. “We can do something together.”

Theo’s face brightened—then immediately darkened. “No, don’t,” he said, voice quiet. “I-I hope you have fun tonight.” He forced a smile.

She beamed. “Thanks.”

“Can I get a cookie?” he asked, and she got one out of the display case for him.

His phone was on the counter, so she tapped the screen to check the time. His background was a photo of both of them, and above that, she saw the time. The cafe would close in ten minutes, then Calahan would come to the front to help her with closing up.

Excitement ran through her. She reached under the counter for her purse, opening it to pull out her lipstick and compact mirror. She held both up, reapplying her lipstick.

As she did, she felt Theo’s eyes on her, his gaze intense. He had finished his cookie and was sitting completely still, watching her. Her pulse quickened, her hand shaking ever so slightly.

Swallowing, she clicked the cap back onto her lipstick, putting it back in her purse with her handheld mirror. She pressed her lips together, both to smooth the color and out of restlessness. She turned away, unable to bear Theo’s eyes on her and the heat that scorched through her as a result.

“Wait a sec,” Theo said. She turned back to him.

Her skin prickled with goosebumps as he walked around the bar, walking behind the counter toward her. She was so shocked, she didn’t even tell him he technically shouldn’t be behind the counter.

He stepped straight in front of her. Nerves spiked through her, both sharp and sweet. She felt her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

“What is it?” she managed to say, voice breathless.

He didn’t respond. His eyes were hyper-focused and trained on her lips. Involuntarily, her mouth parted. He brought his hand up to her face, and her throat went dry.

He cupped her face in his hand, and then, ever so gently, ran his thumb across the very edge of her bottom lip. The movement was achingly tender. Sparks shot up her spine.

Her eyelids fluttered. Desire lit through her, and she inched closer, unable to stop herself, drawn toward him like a moth to a flame, not caring if it would be her demise.

Slowly, he pulled his finger away, then held it up for her to see. She saw a streak of crimson color.

“Your lipstick,” he said, voice rough. “Fixed it.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth, his eyes lidded. Lavinia stared at him, unable to speak. When he brought his eyes back up to meet hers, she saw they were dark, burning. He looked as if he wanted to say something. Lavinia held her breath as he opened his mouth.

But then it was as if he thought better of it.

“See ya,” he said, voice strangled.

He abruptly left, leaving her feeling unsteady.