Page 7 of The Baker and the Kraken

Adam

Adam had… no idea what was happening right now. The extremely hot, extremely graceful, extremely smooth man who’d watched Adam fall headfirst into a cake was… flirting with him? He wasn’t the best at reading those sorts of cues, but really, was there any other way to take this? He’d thought for a long, stomach-churning moment that the man liked Simon—and who could blame him, Simon was awesome!—but he’d quickly corrected Adam’s assumption, almost like he wanted to… reassure him?

Swallowing, Adam blurted out, “Why don’t you try some cake?”

The man’s lips tipped up, and he picked up his fork and used it to section off a bite of the peanut butter chocolate cake and bring it up to his mouth. Adam found himself practically leaning over the table, eyes locked on the motion of the cake to the man’s mouth, lips closing over the fork, and, finally, the moment where the man began to chew and a look of bliss settled over his features.

Adam sagged in relief.

“By all that’s magical, that’s delicious,” the man groaned as he finished swallowing.

Adam could feel his treacherous cheeks going pink again, but he swelled with pride, too.

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly, since he wasn’t great at taking compliments in person. “I’m Adam, by the way.”

The man swallowed another bite and set down his fork. “I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. I’m Calder.”

He held out his hand, and Adam shook it, relishing the strong, warm grip and telling himself that he absolutely did not feel tingles running up his arm, because that would be ridiculous. Calder was far bulkier than Adam, but he didn’t seem to feel the need to crush Adam’s hand to prove his strength. This close, the buzz of magic was impossible to ignore, and Adam was so glad that Simon had been right and Calder was magical. Adam was terrible at lying to people, and pretending to be normal didn’t work out well for him.

The handshake went on for too long, but neither of them made a move to stop it. It was the sort of thing that usually made Adam feel awkward, like he’d missed yet another life lesson that everyone else had received, but Calder was staring into his eyes, and it was impossible to look away.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Adam. And you make fantastic cake.”

Adam couldn’t help but laugh, the handshake falling away naturally, like Calder had made everything effortless.

“Thank you.”

“And to make a clean breast of it,” Calder continued, “I think I might have startled you yesterday, and if so, I apologize.”

Adam sighed and admitted, “If it wasn’t you, it would probably have been something else. I’m, uh, kind of clumsy.”

“Still, I feel bad,” Calder said, not seeming at all perturbed by this confession.

But then, people often weren’t in the beginning, when Adam just told them he was clumsy. Maybe not even the first few times he was clumsy. But the tenth time? The hundredth? The thousandth? Adam’s father could attest to just how clumsy he was—and how, far from growing out of it, Adam seemed to have settled quite firmly into clumsiness as a way of life.

“I’d like to take you out to dinner as an apology,” Calder said, shocking Adam out of his thoughts.

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“But I’d like to,” Calder said, simple and earnest, and Adam didn’t really know what to do with that.

Maybe you could have a date, Simon had said. Adam hadn’t believed that for a second, but a nice man wanting to apologize wasn’t terrible, was it? Adam had sort of given up on trying to make friends. It was only stubborn people who wouldn’t give up, like Simon, who managed it. Adam did very well on his own, mostly. But sometimes he… wanted.

Calder was still looking at him expectantly, so Adam carefully said, “If you’re sure?”

“I’m entirely certain,” Calder said, smiling in such a way that Adam’s breath caught, just a little.

He shoved cake in his mouth to cover it and narrowly managed not to choke.

They spent a few minutes eating their cake and sipping their drinks. Simon really was gifted with the coffee machine, and he made the very best mochas for Adam.

Nothing was going disastrously wrong, and Adam reminded himself to slow down and concentrate, as that would reduce the chance of him choking on his food, needing to be resuscitated, and then needing to change his name and flee the country in embarrassment.

But despite the fact that Adam managed to inadvertently clash forks with Calder on three separate occasions, Calder just kept smiling at him and making appreciative noises about the cake—okay, and about the coffee, too, so it wasn’t like it was just Adam’s baking skills that he admired.

It was… it was really nice. Sure, it wasn’t going to last, but he couldn’t name the last time he’d spent this much time with a handsome man who was polite and intent and made Adam feel seen in a way that was a little bit uncomfortable but was mostly just… wonderful.

Calder didn’t seem at all fazed when they tried to plan their dinner and Adam requested that it be at five or so because he had to get up early to bake. Nor was he bothered when Adam confessed that he had Sundays and Mondays off rather than a regular weekend.