Page 4 of The Baby Dragon Cafe (The Baby Dragon #1)

Chapter 4

S aphira had just sat down for what felt like a moment at the end of the day when she saw a striking figure appear by the front door. Her pulse skyrocketed in the most ridiculous manner.

She ordered herself to calm down—he was her employer!—then stood to answer the door. The cafe was quiet and empty; all the customers had gone, and even Lavinia had left after helping Saphira close. Her legs ached as she walked over. They were sore from standing and running around all day.

But when she opened the door, a burst of energy shot through her, like she’d downed a shot of espresso from the yet-to-arrive machine. She tried to tell herself it was from seeing the baby dragon, and not his rider.

“Sparky!” Saphira said with enthusiasm. The baby dragon perked up; he was happy to see her as well, which only made her happier. He recognized her and her cafe.

He lit up when Saphira smiled.

Aiden gave the baby dragon in his arms a look of disbelief. “I swear he was just hissing at me two seconds ago,” Aiden said, glowering.

Saphira bit back a laugh. “Come in,” she said, scratching Sparky’s black scales.

After Saphira closed the door behind them, she held her hands out for Sparky, wondering if he would come to her.

Sparky responded by leaping out of Aiden’s arms and jumping straight into hers, with such a force that her feet faltered. Aiden reached a hand out to steady her, his touch light at her elbow, and an electric current ran through her.

Her cheeks felt warm. She avoided looking at Aiden, then, turning her full attention to Sparky: “Hello my little golu-molu, how are you?”

Sparky cooed, clearly delighted to be smothered with affection. Saphira risked a peek at Aiden, who was watching with an amused expression on his face.

“What?” she asked.

“Sparky isn’t used to this kind of treatment,” Aiden replied.

“It’s what he deserves! My little cutie-pie.” Saphira spoke in her babiest baby-voice, which she suddenly realized might have been weird. She stopped, glancing at Aiden, but he didn’t look freaked out—only vaguely entertained.

Saphira still couldn’t read him well; he was stoic and severe. Actually, he came off as a bit harsh because he was so quiet, while she was so loud, but if she looked closely, she was starting to catch the little subtleties of his expression: a crinkle around his eyes, a laugh line by his mouth.

And for some reason, Saphira was looking quite closely.

She convinced herself it was decidedly not because of how distractingly handsome he was, but because she wanted to be a good trainer for his baby dragon. However, at the same time, it did feel important to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was because, wow …

“Can I get you something?” she asked, recalling her manners as she walked deeper into the empty cafe. She let Sparky down and he trotted alongside her. “We have leftover gulab jamun cakes. Theo dropped them off this morning and he always makes an extra few for me. He knows how much I like them, especially with chai.”

Aiden frowned, then, but so quickly she thought she might have imagined it. She kept speaking.

“Speaking of … I haven’t had my evening tea yet, so I can put on the kettle, if you want, or make some proper chai?”

“Oh, no, thank you,” he said, and she realized he hadn’t followed her in. He still stood in the door frame.

Narrowing her eyes, Saphira walked back toward him. He stared at her, looking awkward. Then, he cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Before she knew what was happening, he turned, about to step back into the street. She grabbed his arm. “Wait!”

He looked down at where her hand was wrapped around his forearm, and something dark flashed in his eyes. Saphira felt a flush rise up her cheeks. She released his arm, though the skin of her palm felt warm from the contact.

“Where are you going?” she asked, voice high. “Aren’t you going to stay?”

He scratched his jaw. “Ah … no.”

Saphira was horrified. There was no way to train the baby dragon without his rider there. “But how will you two connect?” Saphira asked. “Build on the rider–dragon bond?”

“I’m not worried about that,” Aiden replied. “I just want you to train him.”

He was being so callous. Saphira frowned. She didn’t understand.

“He’s your dragon,” Saphira said, hating how whiny she sounded. Maybe she didn’t know enough about this to be speaking on it; she wasn’t from a Drakkon family, after all. Even so, she continued. “You’re going to be his rider, Aiden. You two have to bond.”

Something opened in his expression then, a flash of intense emotion. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to respond, but then he stopped himself. Aiden took a deep breath. His throat moved as he swallowed, and it was another moment before he finally spoke.

“I don’t want to get in the way,” he said.

“You won’t be in our way!” she said, trying to convince him. “You don’t have to do any work, really, you can just watch … for Sparky’s sake.”

She looked down at Sparky by her feet; he was rubbing his cheek against her leg, the scales of his face lightly scratching against her skin. He gazed at her with big purple eyes, and her heart squeezed with fondness.

She would kill to have a baby dragon to herself, to have one of her own, and Aiden did not seem to grasp what an honor and privilege he had. Yes, he was letting her train Sparky at the moment, but Sparky was his . Sparky would always belong to Aiden, and Aiden would always belong to Sparky. And yet, he was not interested in protecting that sacred bond.

Aiden was simply going to abandon Sparky!

“Sparky won’t miss me,” Aiden said.

Sparky did not look as if he’d miss Aiden, but Saphira would. The thought struck her with surprise. She had been looking forward to spending time with him all day. She wanted to know him. The desire was a seed buried deep in the soil of her heart.

And now he was just leaving!

“You really won’t stay?” she asked again.

She couldn’t think of anything clever to say, some reason to entice him. All she had was the truth: disbelief and disappointment.

But why should he care? He didn’t know her; he had no reason to be swayed by her emotions.

But when he turned his dark eyes to her, the breath lodged in her throat. Heat flushed through her as she held his gaze.

For a moment, he looked convinced. He was clearly at war about something, going back and forth in the depths of his mind.

He took a step toward her. She inhaled the scent of his cologne, a rich mossy scent, mingled with mint.

“I’m sorry, Saphira,” he said, voice low. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and the deep timbre of his voice reverberated through her. “I must go.”

He touched her hand, then turned to go. As she watched him leave, her skin tingled, feeling scorched from the contact. She felt the feather-light touch all throughout her body, and she willed him to turn around, to stay.

Even so, he left.