Page 75 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

Georgia laughs, light and bright. “I’m wearing him down.”

“I’m sure you are.” Mom flashes a small smirk at me. “Now, where is your sandwich board? I walk up and down Center, and every store has a sandwich board to draw people in.”

“We don’t have a sandwich board,” I tell her.

“But I’m working on something better than a sandwich board,” Georgia says.

Mom cocks her head closer. “I’m listening.”

“A bookmobile bike to go out front. It will have a small selection of books on it, and we can add our pastry menu of the day to the inside of one of the doors.”

“I heard something about that idea. I love it. Can’t wait to see it.” Mom turns back to me. “You’d better hold onto her, Miles.”

I have every intention of doing exactly that—just as soon as my mother leaves.

Chapter 25

Miles

I’m surprisingly calm for my first official date with Georgia. Maybe I used up all my nervousness in the years it took me to get here. Or maybe that soul-searing kiss last week burned it out of my system. I’m at ease, ready to take our relationship to a new level.

Georgia, unfortunately, isnotcalm. Her smiles are a little too forced, her conversation a little too rushed for me to believe she’s as relaxed as I am. I can’t tell if her jitteriness is from an eagerness to make sure everything goes right tonight or from a fear that it won’t.

We’ve already placed our orders at the Thai restaurant she’d opted for last week. Despite everything I said to her then, bringing her to my place seemed like too little effort for something that feels this significant. Now I’m thinking it might have helped us avoid the pressure of a “real” first date.

She gestures at me. “You wore the maroon sweater.”

“I told you I was saving it for a special occasion.”

She smiles even wider but then juts out her lower lip. “You didn’t roll the sleeves, though.”

Maintaining eye contact with her, I slowly push my sleeves to the elbows. “Better?”

“Yup. That’s the stuff.” She swallows hard, then winces. “Sorry. Is this weird?”

“Which part?” I don’t think any of it is weird, but I need to know what’s bothering her.

“I can’t…you know…think you’re sexy to your face.”

My grin is probably the dopiest it’s ever been. “I give you permission to think I’m sexy.”

“That’s not helping.”

“Will it be better if I tell you that I think you’re sexy?”

She hides her face behind her hands for a second, shaking her head. “That’s it. This date is a bust. We need to start over another time without all the weirdness.”

“Hey.” I lay my hand on the table, palm up, and she slips hers into it without hesitation. “It’s just us. Bringing more into our friendship isn’t supposed to be stressful. We can open the door to possibility and see what happens. Okay?”

“Open the door to possibility.” Her shoulders relax, and the smile returns to her face. “Okay.”

Despite her nerves, she keeps her grip on my hand. That’s good enough for me.

“I’m curious what would have been on the itinerary for our practice date.” Not that the idea was stuck in my head for days or anything.

She laughs. “Rule number one, don’t make fun of her favorite hobby.”

“I had no idea about Mr. Pickles.” A serendipitous mistake.

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