Page 51 of The Baby Dragon Bakery (The Baby Dragon #2)
With three children and another on the way, she didn’t visit more than a few times a year, and Emmeline sorely missed her, though she was used to the ache of it, now.
Sometimes, it almost felt as if this was how it always was, and she was surprised to recall memories in which Millie lived in Starshine Valley.
It was strange how when you got used to things changing, it almost felt as if the way things used to be hadn’t happened at all.
Looking at Saphira now, Emmeline could barely recall a time in which she didn’t know Saphira—the bright soul had quickly become like a close cousin to Emmeline.
After all, Emmeline was Aiden’s favorite cousin, and he was a very strong contender for being her favorite, as well, his rank only increasing ever since he had gotten together with Saphira, who Emmeline had technically known first, as Saphira sourced her coffee for the Baby Dragon from Emmeline’s dragon-roasted coffee company, Inferno.
“She’s due any day now, isn’t she?” Aiden asked.
“Her babies are so cute!” Saphira said. Millie’s son, Noah, was four while her daughter, Ira, was two.
“They take after me,” Emmeline said proudly, lifting her chin. She and Millie often got confused for twins, and Millie’s kids definitely took after their mother.
“You get all the credit then?” Aiden teased.
“Of course!” Emmeline replied. “I’m the one who told her, I said, ‘Millie, you must marry a man with weak genes because if my nieces and nephews don’t look like me, I will riot.’ And then she did just that.”
Saphira and Aiden both laughed. “I guess we need to find a man with weak genes for you,” Saphira said.
Emmeline waved a hand. “Don’t worry about me.”
“Why are we worrying about Emmeline?” a familiar voice asked.
Emmeline turned to see Lavinia Williams join them. She was wearing a forest green dress that hugged her curves, along with platform heels that added a few inches to her short height. A delicate gold necklace hung from her neck; in the center was a small letter T.
The meaning behind the letter stood beside her: her boyfriend, Theo Noon. Tall and lanky, in slim black trousers and a neat white button-down shirt. They were holding mugs of hot chocolate in opposite hands while their other hands were clasped together, fingers entwined.
The pair were childhood best friends but had started dating last year. Lavinia used to work at the Baby Dragon, and Theo worked there as Saphira’s business manager, as well as the bakery for the Baby Dragon Bakery, the bakery section of the cafe.
“We’re not,” Emmeline replied, shifting the focus away from how single she was. “We’re more focused on how cute these two are.”
“They’re still in their honeymoon phase,” Lavinia said.
“They’ve pretty much been in their honeymoon phase since they met,” Emmeline replied, earning laughter from the rest of them. Aiden and Saphira didn’t even attempt to disagree, they only looked at one another with stars in their eyes, lips turned up into smiles.
“ We could be in our honeymoon phase, too, you know,” Theo said, pinching Lavinia’s side. She squealed.
“Stop trying to propose to me!” Lavinia hit his chest. “Not until I graduate in May!”
What a problem to have , Emmeline thought wryly, a painful twang reverberating in her chest. Lavinia and Saphira were both younger than her, and it was Ginny’s twenty-second birthday, which made Emmeline feel ancient at twenty-nine, not at all helped by the fact that she was turning thirty in January with no possibility of a grand romance in sight.
She had only had one serious relationship post-university. Since then, she’d surely had her flirtations and her fun, but there didn’t seem to be anybody who could pierce her very soul.
Shaking her head, Emmeline pushed the thought away before it sent her into a spiral. She focused on the conversation at hand.
“How’s the ring hunt going?” Saphira asked Lavinia, who made a pensive sound.
“It’s going,” she said. “They’re all just so pretty! I can’t narrow down the shape.”
Aiden and Theo exchanged a fondly amused glance over the girls’ heads. Then the song changed; the chords made Saphira’s eyes light up and Emmeline grin. It was one they both adored.
“Sorry, Aiden,” Emmeline said, taking Saphira’s hand, “but your girl is mine for this one.”
She stole Saphira away, and Saphira grabbed Lavinia as she went, the girls walking over to the crowd of dancing partygoers. Across the dance floor, the birthday girl caught sight of them. Her mouth fell open, and she ran over.
“Wait for me!” Ginny cried. The girls opened their little circle, pulling Ginny in as they danced together, laughing and having fun.
Until Emmeline caught the sight of flames in the corner of her eye.
“Uh oh,” Lavinia said, slowing.
Emmeline narrowed her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she told the girls, catching Ginny’s gaze. “I’ve got it.”
With a squeeze of Ginny’s hand, Emmeline was off, grabbing two members of the staff as she went. At the scene of the crime was Motu, her brother’s baby dragon, who had lit a tablecloth on fire and was now watching the flames with shocked purple eyes.
“Motu!” Emmeline scolded, and the baby dragon immediately looked chagrined, hiding his face behind his wings. She tsked at him. As the staff members put out the fire, Emmeline knew it wasn’t the baby who was at fault, but his rider. She scanned the crowd for Haris.
When she spotted him, he was laughing with their cousin Oliver and Emmeline’s other brother, Naveed.
Both her brothers looked like her, though their skin was a lighter shade of brown.
Oliver caught Emmeline’s gaze first, and he immediately stopped talking, elbowing Haris apprehensively.
Emmeline crossed her arms against her chest as her younger brother followed Oliver’s gaze, then swallowed. He slowly walked toward her.
“Uh—Everything okay, Emmy?” Haris asked, giving her a small smile. His dimples made an appearance. He was trying to be cute. She glared.
“You tell me,” she said, voice sharp. Motu walked over to Haris, then, the draggo’s little head hanging low. Haris was twenty-four and in medical school; he was not doing the best job training his baby dragon, who Emmeline ended up babysitting half the time anyway.
She had told him on a number of occasions not to hatch his egg whilst still in medical school, but had he listened? No. Sometimes, she really hated being right.
Haris had the decency to look embarrassed as he scooped Motu into his arms. Emmeline looked over at the burnt tablecloth the staff members were replacing,
“Look at Fang!” Emmeline scolded, gesturing to Ginny’s well-behaved baby dragon calmly bopping her head to the music as she flapped her wings.
Even though Motu and Fang were a month apart—with Motu being the elder—Fang was much more well-trained.
While Ginny devoted her time to Fang after graduating from university last May, accelerating Fang’s training until he had his first flight at just seven months, whereas Motu had only had his first flight last month, and was still a bit rough around the edges due to Haris being too busy with medical school.
“Sorry,” Haris said sheepishly. Emmeline gave him a dirty look. She didn’t even need to say anything; the look was enough for her brother to understand how disappointed she was. He hung his head.
She took Motu from him, and the baby dragon came to her willingly, despite how she had scolded his rider. The little draggo knew their family dynamics.
Taking Motu away from the crowd, she went upstairs, where it was much quieter than the party going on in the ballroom. She passed by the living room to another section of the mansion, Motu touched a paw to her cheek, looking up at her with big purple eyes. Her heart softened.
“Your rider needs to be more responsible,” she whispered to Motu, smushing his face. Motu flapped his wings. She laughed. “Come on.”
She rang for a dragon caretaker to come look after the baby dragon, and a few moments later, one arrived, taking Motu from her. As the caretaker did so, the edge of Motu’s wing flapped in her hair, which was twisted back to stay out of her face while she was running around.
The caretaker left with Motu, and Emmeline was alone. In the quiet, she sighed, and as she turned, she caught sight of herself in a gild-framed mirror.
She was wearing an off-the- shoulder dress with dramatic bell sleeves, the gown floor length but with a slit going up one thigh to reveal her strappy jeweled heels.
While the outfit was still perfectly in place, her hair was coming undone.
She pulled the hairpin out, and her hair cascaded down, falling to her hips.
It was glossy and pitch-black, cut in long layers.
She shook her hair out, meeting her gaze in the reflection. Her kajal was a little smudged and her blood-red lipstick had faded, but she still looked immaculate. Rolling her shoulders, she adjusted her elaborate gold nose ring, her only jewelry, then headed back to the party.
And that was where she saw Luke Hayward.
Her enemy.
Emmeline stopped in her tracks before the living room, her heartbeat jumping violently. He was the only one up here, though he hadn’t seemed to notice her just yet. Leaning against the wall, he was entranced with the view from the wide windows, watching the snow fall fast.
He was dressed in an all black suit, sans a tie, his black dress shirt open at the collar to reveal the chains on his brown-skinned neck. It wasn’t the only jewelry he wore; rings covered almost every finger, and there was an earring looping in one ear. His signature look.
For a moment, Emmeline thought she was hallucinating. She really must have been tired. She took a step forward, looking closer. There was no way he was here.
But then he must have heard her, and he turned. His dark eyes fell upon her and the devilish tilt of his lips sent sparks down her spine, informing her that he was in fact very much real.
“Hayward,” she snapped, stalking over. He pushed off the wall easily, straightening. Emmeline had always been tall, and she was used to being one of the tallest in the room, especially with her high heels, but he was still taller, easily clearing six-foot-two. Another reason to hate him.
“Sterling,” he said easily, eyes lighting with amusement.
Irritation burst through her as she stood before him.
She didn’t understand—what was he doing here?
She had sent out the invites; she knew for certain he wasn’t invited.
He was not part of any of the Drakkon circles.
He was a chimera-owner and lived in Bayview, down by the lake.
Starshine Valley was divided into sections, and everyone tended to stay in their own part.
Except for him. He was always trying to poach her business.
While her coffee was dragon-roasted, his was chimera-roasted.
His business, Tempest, rivaled her. She had started her business straight out of university seven years ago and he had started his business about two years later, all but stealing her idea, though he applied it to chimeras.
He was a ruthless businessman—successful, gorgeous, and heartless.
She knew he was trouble from the first time she had heard about him, when she was a senior in college and Millie was a junior claiming to be in love.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Maybe the birthday girl invited me,” Luke replied, running a hand through his long black hair. A frisson of heat shot through her, but she promptly ignored it as a fierce protectiveness came over her.
She stepped toward him, poking his chest with a finger.
“Stay away from her,” she snapped. “You’ve already broken one little sister’s heart.”
He cocked his head to the side, regarding her. His dark eyes were like charcoal, simmering with heat just beneath the surface, and his gaze pierced through her. “You got your revenge for that in kind, if I recall.”
She feels a stab of guilt at that—though there was no reason for her to. Emmeline was not the kind of person who had regrets.
Luke’s gaze dropped down to where her finger was still on his chest. He bit the air by her hand, and she snatched her hand as the sound of his teeth clamping shut sounded.
He looked up and met her horrified expression with a wolfish smile. Her pulse quickened, blood pounding through her veins like the beating of a drum.
She was about to do something drastic when she heard a voice say, “Ah, Luke, there you are.”