Page 30 of When the Baker Met the Dragon

“He didn’t speak at all. I don’t think he is able.”

I nod, fear scratching at my nerves. “I’m glad you’re all right. You don’t feel sick or anything, right?”

His smile is kind, and I could fall into those sultry eyes of his. “I feel fantastic.” But a sadness cloaks the tone of his voice. He must regret our kiss. “Betilda told me that DeFleurtis is fine, by the way. He hasn’t had any other curse-like symptoms.”

“That’s a relief.”

Cyrus nods and puts a talon on the top half of the map. “The ghost pointed to this spot.”

“I thought that area was deserted and barren.”

“I did too, but perhaps not. There must be something there for me to find.”

“More information?”

“I don’t know. The ghost disappeared right after he led me to the map.”

“When do you leave?” I ask, feeling hollow and forcing a calmly curious expression.

He eases back against the chair and crosses his arms. “Well, I probably shouldn’t go.”

“Probably shouldn’tis pretty much the beginning and ending of all your days.”

His head falls back as he laughs and I marvel at the rich sound. I can be friends with him. I can do this. If I can stop lusting over him and wishing those taloned hands were on me. I clear my throat and look back at the map.

“Halvard said he can’t go with you to Kingstown, right?” Cyrus asks. “His goats chewed through his fence, and he has to fix the fence before they all figure out they have freedom at their hoof tips.”

Ah, he already knows. “Yes, but I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll go with you. I’ll close up the pub for two days. No problem.”

“No, I can get Tully and Argos to go. I forgot to ask them tonight, but I’ll send Tully a note.”

Cyrus’s gaze brushes up my face and down again. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, thanks anyway, though.”

I start to touch his hand, but I pull away. He pretends not to notice, rolls up the map, and stands. My cheeks flush and I want to disappear.

Why can’t this be easier?

It was just a kiss. Most people kiss plenty. It’s not a huge event in their lives. But for me, Cyrus is only the second person I’ve ever kissed. I’m so inexperienced. Cyrus runs a handthrough his hair, his talons clicking lightly against one of his horns. It’s like he doesn’t know what to do now.

“Do you want me to stick around in case that arsehole comes back?” he asks.

“I don’t think he’ll be coming back. You nearly fried him.” I laugh jerkily, feeling incredibly off.

“I can still do that. Just say the word and he’s gone. For good.”

“No, Cyrus. Don’t do that.”

If I touch him, we will start kissing again. I can’t handle his imminent rejection or how he will turn our affair into something casual. There is nothing casual about my feelings for Cyrus—that much is obvious to me now. I will be friends with him, but that is it. My heart isn’t built for casual affairs.

“I won’t,” he says. “But the offer will always be on the table.”

He’s talking about Devin, but could he be hinting that the offer of us having a romantic relationship would always be on the table too? But he would be bored with me in a week and then I’d pine for him for the rest of my life. It’s pathetic, and I’d never admit to it, but it’s the truth.

“Have a good rest of your night, Cyrus. I’ll see you when I get back.”