Page 26 of The Baby Dragon Bakery (The Baby Dragon #2)

L avinia remembered when she was a kid, maybe about six or seven. She was meant to be asleep, but she’d heard her parents laughing downstairs. So she had tiptoed down, following the noise.

She had hid behind the wall, and peered around the corner at her parents in the kitchen, where Beena had been washing the dishes and Garrett was drying them.

Beena had laughed at something Garrett had said, and he’d taken her soapy hand, twirling her around, and then they were dancing, both humming along to the same tune.

Lavinia had stood and watched, smiling to herself at how happy they were.

She’d giggled, then clapped a hand over her mouth, since she was supposed to be sleeping, but Beena had heard.

Rather than scolding Lavinia, her parents had both held out a hand for her, and she’d bounced over to join them, the three of them dancing together.

Garrett had lifted her up onto the kitchen table, and her parents had danced around her, singing together while Lavinia twirled on the tabletop in her pajamas and bare feet.

That moment had felt like it was made of gold, even as she’d lived it, and now the memory was shiny and radiant every time she returned to it.

Even then, she knew what her parents had was rare and precious. Since then, she’d dreamed of finding a love like that for herself, a love that turned the mundane into magic.

Now she was with Calahan, and she was so sure he was everything a good partner should be: kind, caring, attentive. Not to mention handsome and a good kisser, too.

But she wasn’t sure if what they had could be called true love.

Maybe she was thinking too much—which she decidedly shouldn’t have been doing because it was only making her doubt, and there was no time for doubts. If she couldn’t make things work with Perfect Calahan, she was resigned to being alone for the rest of her life.

She knew that not everybody found romance in their life, and that to live without romantic love was not the worst thing in the world, but the prospect frightened her as it seemed to presage the worst kind of future: the idea of a very long life without any of the companionship that she had grown up witnessing in her parents.

Lavinia groaned, focusing her attention on what was in front of her. She was in the library at university, her laptop and textbook spread in front of her, and she was supposed to be studying. She pushed her glasses back on her nose.

“Focus,” she muttered to herself, but her gaze strayed to the windows lining the walls.

It was drizzling outside, the atmosphere misted and foggy. Gray clouds marbled the sky, adding a dull cast to the school grounds. The wind rustled the branches of the trees, some of which had already lost all their leaves. Autumn was passing quickly, bringing winter closer and closer.

She was listening to a playlist titled “you’re writing love letters in an ancient library during autumn” and she wished that was what she was doing here, instead of studying the particulars of administering anesthesia to griffins.

Lavinia loved what she did—she loved learning and studying and working hard—but sometimes, she was just so tired. She sighed, leaning on her arms, the sleeves of her light sweater soft against her cheek.

She wanted to be done already, to have reached the end, but she knew also that to reach the end without any of the hard work required wouldn’t be as satisfying. So she continued studying until it was time to head home.

She walked across campus. While it was evening by then, the university was bustling.

She passed ivy-covered buildings as students and faculty members walked along the pathways, big bags on their shoulders and hot to-go cups in their hands.

There were students sitting on benches reading books or eating snacks or just catching a break.

When she entered her home, it was warm, and she heard sizzling coming from the kitchen as dinner was being cooked. The familiar scent helped ease some of her fatigue; what a joy it was to have a comfortable home to return to.

“Pumpkin, is that you?” Garrett called from the kitchen. Lavinia closed the door, kicking off her shoes.

“It’s me!” Lavinia called back. She walked into the house, where Beena stood at the stove in the kitchen, stirring a pot.

Garrett was at the counter beside her, chopping up cauliflower.

She went over and kissed her parents hello, then went across to the living room, where Alfie was lying down on the carpet with Biter on top of him.

He giggled as the little red draggo walked across his stomach, tickling him with her tiny paws.

“Give her to me,” Lavinia said, scooping Biter up off him. She cuddled with Biter, who was getting a little bigger now, pressing her cheek against the baby dragon’s. “I need this.”

Alfie sat up, watching her.

“Being a grown-up is very difficult,” she told her little brother. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

He gave her a confused look. “You’re a grown-up?”

Honestly, a valid question. “Technically?” she replied. “I am twenty-four.”

Alfie’s eyes widened. “Wow, you are old.”

“Thanks.” Then she lay down on the rug, putting Biter onto her stomach, squealing as Biter’s paws moved.

Alfie lay down six inches away from her. “Biter, jump!” he said, pointing to his stomach. Biter cocked her head. “Come on, jump!” Biter prepared, then hopped across, wings flapping as she landed on Alfie. Lavinia smiled.

It wasn’t all so bad.

After dinner, she had Beena put oil in her hair before going up to her room to study for her anatomy class.

It was her hardest class—and the one she was currently doing the worst in.

While she ordinarily got As, she was barely making a B in this class at the moment, and most of her final grade hinged upon the massive midterm she had coming up in two weeks.

Taking a deep breath, Lavinia put on a playlist titled “watching the stars on a quiet night” before opening up her notes. After she had done an hour of uninterrupted studying, Lavinia took a break. She rolled off her bed, landing on her feet, then went to her vanity to get her phone.

She realized she should probably call Calahan, since they hadn’t talked today. Embarrassment flushed through her at the fact that she hadn’t thought of him sooner.

When Lavinia picked up her phone, she saw that she had missed a video call from Theo from half an hour ago. She called him back, and he immediately picked up. His face filled the screen and she smiled.

“Hey!” she said, but the word came out funny and she realized she had already put her retainer in for the night. “One sec, let me take this out.”

She put the phone down and dashed to the bathroom, pulling her retainer out and sticking it in her retainer case. Then, she glanced in the mirror. She was wearing a stretched-out T-shirt from middle school and had her oiled hair back in a braid that made her look like a seventeenth-century lord.

She didn’t mind that Theo was seeing her like this; she just thought it was funny. She could be any version of herself with him; she never had to be self-conscious about herself.

“I’m back,” she said, picking up her phone again. She’d been right, Theo was totally unfazed by her appearance. “How was your day?”

“Busy,” he replied. “We got a last-minute order, so I had to stay after to help. Just got back and showered, then I called you.”

His hair was still a little wet, the brown of his locks darker. He was wearing a black hoodie, and he looked tired, but his eyes were bright as he talked with her.

“Ooh, sounds like a lot,” she said, going back to her bed. She kicked her books to the side and got comfortable. “What was this big last-minute order about?”

Theo told her about it, explaining in detail how hectic things were all day, and how each of his coworkers was behaving and reacting.

She knew each of them by name—she’d heard Theo talk about them so often—just like Theo knew all her professors by name, and even the names of some of her classmates, particularly the ones who annoyed her or who helped her out.

As Theo gave her the play-by-play, Lavinia listened.

Video-calling like this reminded her of when they were undergrads.

He had gone to university a few hours away to get away from home, and they would talk on the phone almost every day, giving each other a recap like this.

She remembered talking to him while walking between classes, or on her way to grab lunch, or during a coffee break.

“Anyway,” Theo finished. “We figured it out and everything got done, but now my arms are like jelly, we did so much.”

He sighed, looking exhausted, the way he had every time he talked about work lately. Before, he would be tired after a long day, but he would be satisfied and accomplished, too, proud of the work he’d done. Now, he was just tired, and she didn’t think it was just a funk he was in.

He was unhappy, and she knew how difficult it was for him to take big steps. Maybe he needed a little push.

“If you’re still feeling bleugh about the Rolling Pin, maybe it’s time to do something,” she suggested. “Saphira mentioned needing a business assistant the other day at dinner—have you thought about that further as a possibility?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “November and December are our busiest months after the summer season,” he said. “I couldn’t leave.”

Though he sounded like he really wanted to.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

Slowly, he nodded. “Honestly? Yeah.” He groaned, falling silent, but she could almost hear the thoughts whirring around his head.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said. She was always interested in every single one of his thoughts.

“Would I even be good as a business assistant?” he asked, nibbling on his lower lip.

“I’m sure you would be,” she replied without hesitation. “You’re smart and hard-working; I think you’d succeed at anything you set your mind to.”

He looked at her like she was being idealistic. “Come on.”