Page 5 of The Baker and the Kraken

“Simon.” For the first time, Adam sounded really annoyed. “I don’t want a bond, you know that.”

He sounded alarmingly definitive, and Calder practically felt his arms and tentacles wilt. Magic brought fated mates together, and there was usually a strong connection immediately, but they still needed to put in the effort to make a relationship work. This didn’t sound like a very auspicious beginning, and Calder wasn’t certain what the Magic could possibly have intended. But he’d spent his long life accepting its guidance, and he would do so now. Besides, as impatient as he wanted to be, he knew better than to mention bonding the first time they spoke to one another.

Didn’t he?

Simon huffed a breath. “Who said anything about bonding? Besides, the strength of that magical buzz suggests he’s a witch. If you play your cards right, you could have a date.”

If Calder hadn’t been eavesdropping, he could have told them that the strength of the feel of someone’s magic wasn’t a definitive indicator of witch versus shifter. Often a shifter felt a little less magical than a witch, but not always.

There was another clatter. Maybe a utensil this time. “I have never, in my entire life, played my cards right, Simon.”

“Maybe he likes that,” Simon said, still unfazed.

“I belong in the kitchen,” Adam argued.

Calder could actually hear him gearing up to ignore Calder and pretend this had never happened. But apparently, Simon had Calder’s back.

“Look, you’ve got two choices. Either you get out there and say hello, or I go out there and set up your first date.”

Adam gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Have you met me?” Simon demanded.

Sighing out an aggrieved breath, Adam said grumpily, “Fine. But when this all goes wrong, I’m blaming you for eternity.”

“Fine.” Simon sounded incredibly cheerful. “But when it all goes right, I’m going to be in charge of your wedding.”

Adam spluttered. “You are the worst.”

“But I have good taste,” Simon said, unperturbed. “Now come on, get your ass out there. I have customers to serve.”

Adam screeched. “Simon! You’ve been in here haranguing me while there are customers out there? What is wrong with you?”

“Time’s awasting,” Simon said brightly.

Letting out an impotent sound of irritation, Adam apparently allowed himself to be led. Calder just had time to school his expression to one of mild hopefulness, and then the swinging door was pushed open, and Adam emerged, stumbling a little. Simon was at his back, and it looked like he’d given him an actual shove to get him through the door at the same time that he’d yanked something off Adam’s head—a hair net?

Adam’s eyes were huge, and he was staring at Calder like a deer in headlights. But then, Calder couldn’t take his eyes off him. Simon bustled behind the counter, and a moment later, he was shoving something at both of them. Automatically, Calder took it. When Adam fumbled his plate, Calder’s free hand snapped out to grab it.

With a sweet and saucy smile, Simon winked at them. “Cake! I’ll have drinks for you in a minute. Now go sit down so I can serve these customers.”

Adam’s brown furrowed as he said, still staring at Calder, “Like we were keeping him from serving the customers!”

Feeling insensibly warmed by the “we,” Calder observed, “I get the feeling Simon sees the world the way he wants to see it.”

Adam huffed a laugh. “Well, that’s certainly true.”

His eyes were made up of multiple flecks of different blues, like the ocean near the shore on a sunny day. Calder was fascinated, and Adam seemed to be equally entranced by Calder. They stood there for several long minutes, just staring at one another.

This close, Calder could catalog every feature. Adam’s hair was a riot of golden curls. He had a dusting of freckles across his nose, pale skin, and a sharp chin. There was no sign of the injury that had bled yesterday, so Adam must have used a healing spell. Calder felt himself relax a little, relieved.

Adam was shorter than Calder by several inches, but he had long arms and legs, like everything was slightly out of proportion. Calder could only imagine those long limbs wrapped around him.

Something of what he was thinking must have translated onto his face, because Adam went slowly scarlet, heat rushing up his cheeks and making his ears go pink.

“We should sit down,” Adam said abruptly, gesturing and nearly hitting a nearby customer.

His cheeks went, impossibly, even pinker, and he stumbled but managed to keep his balance as he led them over to one of the small tables at the back of the shop. He sat down gracelessly, knocking the table with his knee, but since nothing was on it yet, there was no damage done.