Page 31 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

I know scarecrows are meant to scare away birds, but they’ve really done a number onme.

He puts his hand over mine on his arm. “I promise to protect you from any scarecrows we encounter, good or evil.”

“You’d better.”

As if there’s even a way to defeat spooky possessed scarecrows, but I don’t want to ruin the offer.

“Here we are. Stall seventeen.” Miles stops short. “Huh. We actually got apple bobbing.”

The morning volunteers give us a quick rundown of how the stall works before they leave us to it. Looks pretty easy: the apples go in the barrels. But in the name of good hygiene, instead of using their mouths to grab the apples, kids have to use sets of chopsticks.

“Kind of anti-climactic, isn’t it?” Sure, this version eliminates kids running around with wet heads covered in shared germs, but where’s the chipped teeth and near-drowning?

“I don’t know.” Miles watches the row of children fumbling around at the four big wooden barrels. “It might be harder than the original version.”

We sit down on the closest hay bales so we can supervise.There’s not a lot more for us to do. We don’t even get to give out cool prizes—the apples are the prizes. Kind of awah-wahmoment when the kids realize it, but we can’t all be the cool booths that give out Jolly Ranchers.

Miles leans his shoulder against mine. “I like your sweater.”

I beam at him. “Aww. Thanks for noticing.”

It would be pretty impossible not to notice my sweater. It’s covered in red, yellow, and gold appliqué leaves. Some of them, inexplicably, have faces on them. The eighties must have been wild times.

“The shimmery ones are an interesting addition.”

He runs one finger along a gold lamé maple leaf on my forearm. It’s a soft, almost-nothing touch, but it still spreads a flush of warmth across my skin.

I exhale a shaky laugh. “Its previous owner must have really wowed the other ladies at her Tupperware parties.”

“She probably had matching leg warmers to go with it.”

“Ooh. Now I kind want to make a pair.”

“If anyone could pull it off, it’d be you.”

I’m not even sure looking good in hideous leg warmers is a valid compliment, but it makes me stupidly happy.

We monitor apple bobbing—well, apple chopsticking—and replenish the fruit supplies whenever it looks like the barrels are running low. All in all, not a bad way to volunteer a little time for the community.

“Now,” I say softly so none of the kids hear me. “About your date.”

Miles blows out a breath. “It’s not looking good for your matchmaking plans.”

“I’m not worried. It’s good data to help me narrow down my next pick.”

He side-eyes me. “Since when do you care about data?”

“Since it’s going to help me find the woman of your dreams.”

His mouth pulls into a frown. “We were just going fordate.”

I wave off his concerns. “Sure, sure. But it would be nice if she was everything you’re looking for, right?”

He goes on staring at me. “Yes. It would.”

His voice hits an especially low note that makes my insides weirdly fluttery. He’s got a really nice voice, steady and rich. You don’t expect it when you first see him standing there in his fitted cardigan and dress shirt. He has the perfect voice for reading a book out loud to someone.

Which is definitely a thing I’ll remember to mention to whoever I find for his next date.

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