Page 103 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

I launch myself at him, laughing as he scoops me up. I’m sweaty and covered in corn silks and still majorly freaked out to be in a cornfield in the first place,but I found him.

I pull back so I can see him clearly. “I didn’t want anyone else to find you. You’re mine.”

This delicious look of triumph crosses his face before he leans down and kisses me. He lifts me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around him. Oh, yes, let’s do. We’re frantic and happy, and for a few glorious minutes, I don’t even care that I’m in a cornfield.

I’m with Miles, and that’s all that matters.

“Tone it down, girl. You got him,” a woman’s voice behind us says.

We break apart, and he guides my feet back to the ground, but I don’t let him go. I cup his face in my hands.

“I love you, Miles.”

The sheer happiness on this man’s face makes my heart sing.Mine, mine, mine.

“I should have realized it a long time ago. Yes, I love you as my best friend, but I love you as so much more than that, too. I love you in all possible ways. On your good days and bad days and everything in between. You’re the best person I know, and the sexiest bookstore owner on the planet, and I am in love with you. Desperately.”

“Did you read my letters?”

“All of them.” Several times over, but we can get to my sleepless night later.

“Then you know already that I want you. And only you.”

I kiss him again softly.

“You have me. Now, can we please get out of here? This corn maze is really freaking me out.”

Chapter 33

Miles

When I gave Georgia the green light to throw a signing party for me at Dogeared, I did not expect her to print out so many pictures of my face. Posters featuring my author photo stare down at me from the walls. She plastered it on flyers she spread through town and on the bookshop’s website. She even printed out bookmarks with my face on them.

She’s extra. But it only makes me love her that much more.

I’ve been signing books for a while now, chatting briefly with everyone who comes by to meet me. It’s still disorienting, to be honest. I kind of like being the anonymous guy nobody notices. But Georgia won’t stand for that where my writing career is concerned.

I mentioned I love her, right?

I recognize a lot of the people filing through the bookshop, like the bulk of Georgia’s adoptive extended family. Sam and Harper already congratulated me, both on the books and on winning over Georgia. Dean and Booker got their copies signed, and Eden finalized the plans for the meet and greet I’ll do at the library in a few weeks right before Christmas. Even members ofthe family who admitted to me they don’t read much came out to support me.

Mom and Cece are here, along with my cousins. I hadn’t expected them to drive in from Houston just for this, but it’s a nice surprise.

Plenty of people I don’t know wander through, too. Georgia posted about the signing on Dogeared’s website and several other book group pages across Texas. We even posted it on my Instagram, which has slowly gained traction over the last month.

I can’t pretend to enjoy having this much attention fixed on me, but I evened it out by pledging a percentage of tonight’s sales to go toward the Cortez girl’s recovery fund. As busy as Arlo and Bailey are up front, it looks like that should be a pretty good amount.

Owen and Josie walk up hand in hand, and they each put a set of my books in front of me.

“I figured I should have my own copies,” he says with a shrug.

“And mine are for my dad,” Josie says. “He’s a big fan of this kind of space cowboy stuff.”

“Space cowboys. I like that.” Owen’s devious smile tells me I’ll be hearing that term during sparring for the foreseeable future.

Georgia’s grandfather, Glen, is a few customers behind them in line. He slides my books across the table to me. “Make them out to ‘Grandpa, who knew all along.’”

He winks and hands me a pen.

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