Page 6

“Show me your world, Demetrius.” It echoed in my head. The tone too dramatic. Too excited. What were we—in Dune? God, I didn't want to disappoint him. The poor sod should have gone to Europe. Instead, his first look at Earth would be an average American town.

I contemplated driving up to Portland. But then I remembered Kaspian's interest in the shops of downtown Salem, and I thought maybe it was a good idea to introduce him to a little city before we headed to a big one. The carousel utterly fascinated him when we drove by. I had to explain that it was for children, and that seemed to satisfy him. But the interest he showed in the carved animals encouraged me. It also amazed me, since the carousel was a good hundred feet from the road and inside a building. That was some incredible eyesight. Yet more proof of his claims? I thought so.

I turned down a side street and parked. Instead of taking Kaspian to a restaurant, I decided on a bakery. The bakery. Mana. It was my favorite bakery in Salem. Maybe even in all of Oregon. And they were still open—bless their buttery baking hearts. I led Kaspian up to the glass door, windows to either side of us with bright yellow writing on them.

As soon as we entered, Kas breathed in deeply and started to smile. “I want whatever that is.”

I laughed. “ That is a lot of things. Don't worry. I got you.” I went up to the counter. “It's his first time so we're gonna do a big box.”

“You got it.” The lady behind the glass display winked at me and grabbed a box. “And we just brought some cookies out of the oven. Sesame Miso.”

“Hell, yes! Two of those. And one of each of your sticky buns. And a slice of the strawberry cake.” I paused to let her catch up.

Kaspian pointed at a flaky pastry covered in pistachio cream. “I want that one.”

“One of the pistachios,” I told the woman. “And the prosciutto cheese. And a morning bun with earl gray cream. You got that?”

“Yup. Anything else?”

“That one.” Kaspian pointed at a cinnamon roll.

“Good choice.” The woman added it to our box.

“Throw whatever savory pastries you got in there too. And that mango bar, please. Oh, and two mocha lattes.” I glanced at Kas and added, “Decaf.”

“You got it. I'll meet you at the register.”

I pulled out my wallet and then my credit card. Kas stared at it.

“It's like a promise to pay,” I whispered. “This card has a tiny piece of . . . nope, you won't understand.”

“Stop saying things like that to me.” He crossed his arms. “The power of my mind is superior to yours.”

I snorted.

“Whoa, buddy, take it easy.” A guy walking by patted Kaspian's arm. “You're in Mana. Life doesn't get better than this. Hey, Sylvie, better hand him one of those cookies. Stat!”

I pressed my lips together as Kaspian scowled at the man. And then the woman took a cookie out of our box and handed it to Kaspian. His expression altered immediately, his arms uncrossing so he could take the dessert from her.

“Thank you very much.” He inclined his head at her.

“You're welcome, honey. That'll put a smile on your face. I guarantee it.” She took our box to the register and rang me up.

As I paid, I watched Kas out of the corner of my eye. He took a bite of the cookie, groaned, then took another. I expected him to gobble it up, but he didn't. He savored it, taking tiny bites while closing his eyes to enjoy them.

“This flavor is so unusual,” Kaspian said.

“That's our miso sesame cookie,” the woman said. “It's got nuttiness from the sesame and the saltiness of the miso. Isn't it wonderful?”

“It is. May I have another?”

I opened the box and handed him a pastry instead. “Try this first.” I motioned at an open table, then gave him a napkin. “Go sit down with it.”

Like a kid, Kaspian took his treat to the table, set it before him, and licked his lips.

The lady—Sylvie—laughed. “He's adorable.”

“He is, isn't he?” I grinned at her.

“Is he Scandinavian?”

“Uh, Swiss.”

“Oh! Wow. I've heard they have excellent pastries there.”

“Yeah, but nothing like your stuff.”

“Aw, you're getting extra chocolate in your mocha for that. It'll just be a few minutes to make those.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed some utensils and took the box to the table. “How do you like that one?”

Kaspian looked up. “It's wonderful! What is this inside it?”

I peered over to check which one I'd given him. “Oh, that's the earl gray cream morning bun. They fill it with a pastry cream infused with tea.”

“Tea? Tea does not taste like this.”

“It does after you add a lot of sugar and cream to it. Try the pistachio next.” I put that one on a napkin in front of him, cut it in half, then started laying out the rest.

A few minutes later, we were both groaning through bites of amazing pastries.

“Your mochas are ready,” Sylvie called and set them on the coffee station.

“Thanks!” I got up and motioned Kas over. “Come on. You gotta fix your coffee.”

“Fix it? Is there something wrong with the beverage?” He stared at the cup with its froth.

“No, that only means that you need to add sugar to it. If you want it sweeter. It's already a little sweet because they put chocolate in it.”

“What's chocolate?”

“That one over there.” I pointed at the chocolate chip cookie. “Those brown bits are chocolate.”

“Oh, I like chocolate!”

“Everyone does, babe,” I said without thinking.

“Did you just call me an infant?” Kaspian scowled.

A guy working at the sink snorted a laugh.

“It's a term of affection here.” I cleared my throat. “Sorry, it just came out.”

“You're feeling affectionate toward me?” He smirked.

“The pastries are making me affectionate. Now, shut up and take a sip.” I motioned at the cup. “Even chocolate needs sugar but, I dunno. Maybe you're a black coffee drinker.”

Kas sipped. Then he drew back and set the cup down. “Oh, no. No. I don't like that chocolate. It's bitter!”

The bakery guy laughed full-out.

“Sorry,” I said to him.

“He's never had coffee?” the guy asked.

“His parents were against sweets and caffeine.”

“What were they—Mormons?”

I laughed. “I think it's the Seventh-Day Adventists that don't drink caffeine.”

“Oh, is it?” The guy shrugged. “I'm a baker. Dough is my religion.”

“Hey, you know that stuff will rise.”

“Exactly, my friend! It is risen!”

Sylvie smacked him. “Get back in the kitchen before you offend someone.”

The guy grinned at me and headed toward the back, stopping to whisper to me, “And that's how you get out of doing the dishes.”

Laughing, I poured some sugar into Kaspian's cup and stirred. “There. Now, try it.”

“No.”

“Just try it. It's got sugar in it now. That will make it sweet. It'll taste more like that cookie.”

Kaspian grimaced but lifted the cup and took another sip. He blinked in surprise. “More of that, please.” He held the cup out. “The white granules. I like those.”

“Yeah, everyone does. It's why America has a problem with obesity.” I motioned at the steel table. “Put your cup down.”

After he set it down, I added more sugar and stirred. He sipped, grinned, and took the coffee back to the table.

“You're welcome,” I muttered as I added sugar to my cup.

“When they're that good-looking, you excuse a lot, eh?” Sylvie smirked at me.

“You have no idea.” I lifted my cup to her. “Thank you for the extra chocolate.”

“Enjoy!”

With our coffees, the sugar spread was complete and so amazing. I'd never done that before—bought a ton of pastries and just gorged with a buddy. Or a date. Was it a date? Kas said he wanted to have sex with me. No, it wasn't a date. That's dumb. I was seeing more there than there was. The poor guy was either crazy or trying to find his footing on an alien planet. I had to cut him some slack and stop lusting after him. That was wrong. So very wrong.

I looked up and found him watching me.

Kaspian reached over, swiped some cream from my lips, and licked his finger. All while holding my stare.

Yeah, all right. We were totally going to bone.