Page 67 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

“I don’t want another note about gifts next year.”

“Fun fact: you’ll get the note anyway. Willa is very demanding.”

He chuckles softly. “As long as it’s not just me.”

“Turn left up here. It’s about a mile down this road.”

Miles makes a face I can’t read at this angle. “They live in Rivendell Acres?”

“You know it?”

His eyes flash my way but don’t reach me. “Yeah. I know it.”

“You sound like that’s a bad thing.”

We near the big gated community, and Miles points to two houses just outside the brick wall. “My mom and aunt live right there.”

It’s a testament to how little I talk about my dad and Ava that it took us this long to realize our parents are sort of neighbors.

“They must hate having that development right in their backyard.” While the two yards outside the wall are lush with old-growth trees and flower beds, most of the trees on the other side are barely over ten feet tall, absolutely dwarfed by the gigantic houses.

“Yes and no.” Miles winces and stops the car outside theautomated gate. He turns to face me. “We do hate it. It’s not what we were hoping for when we sold the land. But we’re grateful for the comfort it’s afforded us.”

I suck in a slow breath as the puzzle pieces he laid down click together. “Your family used to own all this?”

“Back when it wasn’t all this.” He looks through the windshield at the fancy brick wall as if he can see the giant houses behind it. “Back when it was land my grandpa worked.”

“I had no idea.” I’ve always lightly hated my dad’s McMansion, but for my own selfish reasons. The house he bought for Ava more than doubled the size of the house Sam and I grew up in, with a pool in the backyard and walk-in closets in every bedroom. Its luxury is a stark contrast to the more average home we used to have.

I don’t want to care about those superficial things, but it’s one more reminder that he never viewed our two families the same way.

Also, it’s ugly as sin.

“Grandpa loved this land. Sometimes I think it’d break his heart to see this.” Miles turns to me again. “But he’d be glad his daughters and grandchildren are taken care of. We were more important to him than any field.”

I slip my hand around his and hold tight. “I’m so sorry.”

He squeezes my hand back but shakes his head. “I’m making this sound sadder than it is. It wasn’t sold out from under us—we made the decision. We just weren’t expecting this.”

“It’s pretty obnoxious, right?”

His mouth tugs into a small smile. “So hideous.”

“It’s got to be weird for your mom and aunt to live right next to this.”

“Occasionally, the residents petition to have the two housesknocked down to preserve the beauty of the development, but other than that, they don’t really interact.”

“That makes me want to punch that stupid wall. Or…toilet paper all the houses in there.” That would show those snobs.

“Don’t punch the wall.” Miles lifts my hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “You need your hands for art.”

It’s suddenly desperately hot in this car. My stomach flips and flutters like it doesn’t know what to do with itself. Meanwhile, I can’t take my eyes off his lips that justkissedme. Doesn’t matter that it was my hand—it was a kiss. He kissed me. It counts.

Maybe my screw up last night wasn’t irredeemable?

“But toilet papering is on the table?” I ask. Mostly to stop myself from begging him to kiss me again.

He flashes a grin. “The less I know, the better.”

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