Page 10 of The Baker and the Kraken

“I’m glad,” Calder told him, clearing his throat. “I hoped you’d enjoy it.”

“Oh, yes, it’s lovely,” Adam assured him, staring out at the water. “I try to get down to the beach for walks periodically. It’s so calming—or at least amazing to look at even when it’s not calm.”

Calder grinned, because that was certainly true.

Adam continued, “But you know how time just passes, whether you mean it to or not? I live pretty close to the water, and yet somehow, so many days pass without my actually getting out here to enjoy it.” His gaze came back to Calder, his bright eyes alight. “So thank you for thinking of this. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Calder said, managing to bite back the words that he would be happy to make it his life’s mission to ensure that Adam enjoyed the water forever.

That would definitely not be going slowly and carefully. Instead, he asked, “How did you wind up baking for Divine Confections?”

Adam’s face lit up again, and he told Calder all about how he’d run into Maggie—literally—but she’d given him a chance anyway, and no matter that he sometimes messed things up, she loved the way he baked.

“Everything you bake is delicious,” Calder assured him.

Adam’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “But you haven’t tried everything I’ve ever baked. You can’t possibly know that.”

“I’m extrapolating,” Calder explained. “Those cakes were the best I’ve ever tasted, and I’m sure everything else is equally amazing.”

Adam’s cheeks went pink, but he looked pleased, if a little bashful. With a little prompting, he talked more and more about the bakery, the friends he’d made there, the experiments that he’d tried, and the many delicious baked goods that he’d created. He even shared a few of his disasters, looking up at Calder through long lashes as if to gauge how he reacted.

It had become clear that the clumsiness was apparently a step too far for those who were complete fools and didn’t deserve Adam. He seemed to be just waiting for whatever moment was too much for Calder, and while Calder wanted to find everyone who’d ever hurt Adam and toss them into the sea, he suppressed those feelings. Adam was expecting irritation or anger, and Calder would make sure that no reaction of his could be misunderstood.

“It’s not something you can control!” Calder finally found himself blurting out after one too many self-deprecating comments.

Adam eyed him. “Only I sort of can, can’t I? I’m not clumsy all the time. If I concentrate really carefully, I can usually be better. I’m good in the kitchen, mostly, because I can really concentrate there, though it’s far from perfect. I use a lot of unbreakable charms.”

“Having to be hyperaware all the time sounds exhausting,” Calder said flatly. “Charms have their place, of course, but I’d much rather that you were relaxed and enjoying yourself, even if it means ketchup in weird places sometimes.”

Adam’s eyes flew to his, peering intently. “Oh,” he breathed, blue eyes soft, something that looked like hope in them. A small smile curled up his lips. “I am sorry about the shirt, though.”

Calder laughed. “I’m not. I still think this one will wash out, but you can ruin all the shirts in the world if I get to spend time with you.”

Adam ducked his gaze, but the smile was still there. Maybe Calder had been a bit vehement, but it was the simple truth.

Clearing his throat, Adam asked, “I’ve been blathering on about me. What do you do?”

Rather than assuring Adam that he would happily listen forever to every little detail, Calder tried to stick as close to the truth about himself as he could, given what he was still hiding.

How long could it take to show someone that you were the perfect mate for them?

“I do a lot of work in ocean conservancy. I’m privileged to come from money”—that he had amassed over the centuries—“and I therefore have the freedom to do a lot of volunteer work. I donate as much money as I can to such projects, and when I’m able, I donate my time as well.”

He’d been a little worried that Adam might find that off-putting or worry needlessly about comparing their assets, but to Calder’s delight, honest appreciation was painted across Adam’s face.

“That’s so wonderful! It’s been so good to see everyone really rally behind the need for change. Is it better than it was? Tell me all about it.”

Adam’s eyes were shining with interest, and since Calder could talk about the oceans for decades and never run out of things to say, he happily chattered away, loving how engaged Adam was.

They passed on to common “getting to know you” topics: likes and dislikes, favorite films and books, hobbies, family, and more.

Adam made almost no mention of anything related to bonding, and Calder finally decided to bring the topic up himself, though a little obliquely, asking if Adam had a familiar.

Adam should his head vehemently. “No. Can you imagine an animal in the kitchen? Definitely not.”

They’d need to be masked from normal people, but it wasn’t like a familiar behaved like a regular animal. They could easily be kept out of the way of the baking.

“What about a shifter, then?”