Page 76 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

“Rule number two, don’t set her up with other guys.” She flashes me a loaded glare, even though we both know that worked out for everyone.

I run my thumb over the back of her hand. “Not a problem tonight.”

She shakes her head at me, but I like her smug smile. I don’t want other men to even look at her tonight. She’s all mine.

“Third…I’ll just watch what you do and point out any issues as they arise.”

“Sounds about right.”

Our dinner arrives, and we serve up our shared rice and noodle dishes.

“You still haven’t heard anything from your dad?” I don’t regret defending Georgia against her father’s slights. Making sure he knows how extraordinary she is came as naturally to me as breathing, and I’ll do it again if I need to.

That doesn’t mean I want the man to hate me.

“Not yet, but that’s pretty normal. He’ll be in touch when it fits into his schedule.”

At least he’s not doing anything to make me feel bad about telling him off.

“Don’t point those big sad eyes at me,” she says. “He’s always been this way. Well. With Sam and me.”

“Georgia. That’s not better.”

His contrasting displays of affection between them has always rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe worse is the way Georgia just takes it because she’s never known anything else. She pretends she doesn’t care, but she can’t tell me she feels nothing when he showers his younger children with tenderness he intentionally withholds from her and Sam.

“I know, but I can’t be sad about his conditional love anymore. And I don’t want you to feel bad for a second about what you said at their house. Nobody’s ever stood up for me like that.”

“Anyone with any sense would stand up for you. I hate that he can’t see the successful woman you are.” He’s got this idea that there’s only one version of success, and anyone who deviates from that is failing by default. It’s not just his children—Isuspect he thinks the same of me, Dogeared, and any other Magnolia Ridge business that doesn’t fit his model.

“I can’t do anything about it. And he wouldn’t change even if I quit illustrating to take a job at his company—he’d still find things to criticize.” She shrugs. “He’s not cruel. He’s just a really crappy dad. Selectively.”

“You’re making me want to tell him off again.”

“I’m sure you’ll have the opportunity one day.” She groans and rolls her eyes. “This is so not first date conversation. I’m ruining the vibes.”

“You’re sharing with me. I like those vibes.”

She laughs as though I wouldn’t sit here for hours just to listen to her tell me anything she’s willing to say. Something serious she needs to get off her chest? Something ridiculous and random that popped into her head? I want to know it all.

“It was good to see your mom in the store the other day,” she says.

It’s a rare sight lately. “I was happy to see her out, too. I don’t like how much time she spends alone in her house.”

Georgia puts her hand back in mine. A sweet, soft gesture I’m ready to eat up with a spoon.

“Maybe she’d like to play games at Fiesta Village.”

I stare at her. Then stare a little more. “You’re brilliant. I hadn’t thought to ask her.”

“Why did you keep that secret, by the way? You looked so guilty when I showed up.”

In hindsight, it was silly not to mention it to her immediately. But the fear of being perceived as that “transactional nice guy” kept me from sharing the idea right away.

“I suppose I didn’t want you to feel any pressure. As though I expected something in return for doing something nice for your grandpa and the other residents.”

“Like… ‘I was nice to your grandpa. Now you should date me?’”

“I never said I’m always rational.”

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