Page 82 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

Georgia: But he will probably give us a hard time

Georgia: And Eliza definitely will

Georgia: Maybe Harper

Miles: Will anyone be there who won’t ask for an autograph or comment on our relationship?

Georgia: There’s a couple of babies who haven’t heard of you

Miles: Can’t wait to meet them

Chapter 27

Georgia

This party is the antidote to Ava’s. Blankets and camp chairs are spread out across the sprawling lawn, a picnic table displays tons of treats and classic movie theater snacks, and steel ice buckets hold drinks. Not a fairy godmother or a fancy Jack Skellington piñata in sight.

Miles and I walk across the gravel drive in front of the barn where an assortment of cars and trucks are parked. I’ve got his hand held tight in mine, a plastic container of cookies in the other. Pretty sure both hands are sweaty.

I was thrilled when Harper invited me to this—I love her extended family, and an outdoor movie night sounded like the perfect way to wrap up October. But as we approach the six or so other couples already mingling around the food, this feels an awful lot like hard-launching a relationship.

Nerves skitter through my stomach, but I’m not quite sure what they’re for. All the gazes surreptitiously dancing over us? The inevitable questions I won’t know how to answer? Or the fact that I’ve never had any kind of relationship to share before?

I hope Miles knows what he’s getting himself into. I sure don’t.

Sam watches us walk over like a cat with a canary stuffed in his mouth—the canary being every single sassy thing he can think to say about Miles and me. Luckily, Harper gets to us first.

“We’re so happy you two could join us. Here.” She takes the cookies from me and adds them to the snack supply. “I think you know everybody.”

All the women here have been to romance book club at least once, and I consider them friends. I don’t know their husbands as well, but I’ve met them at some holiday event or another.

Like June’s husband, Ty, who’s holding their baby while he talks with one of her brothers. Little Lucy’s wearing a hat that looks like a pumpkin top, and her face is nothing but dark eyelashes and chubby cheeks. He’s got her cradled to his chest like his whole world is right there in his hands. It’s too dang cute to see the big rancher so happy.

Or Eliza’s husband, Dean, who’s listening to some animated story she’s telling. He’s a little like Miles—he doesn’t seek out the spotlight in groups like this. But he watches Eliza like she’s got a light all her own.

And then there’s Eden’s husband, Booker, who’s heading straight for us. Because there’s plenty of cuteness to go around, he’s also carrying a baby. Noah’s got a tiny tuft of black curls on the top of his head and the biggest brown eyes you ever saw.

Baby fever is a myth. A myth that’s got me in its grip, urging me to smell both of those babies’ heads, gently press their rounded cheeks, and touch the tiny divots in their sweet little hands.I will not.But only because their fathers are huge, and unsolicited baby-touching feels like a quick way to get thrown out of the party.

Eden joins us with their toddler, Bee, on her hip. “Miles, you know my husband, Booker.”

Miles nods, and the two men shake hands. Booker’s prettymuch always got a smile on his face, but this one feels like a kid finding out he’s going to Disneyland.

Or a Disney adult going to Disneyland. I don’t judge.

“I have to ask—are you really the Miles Forrester who wrote the Quantum Station series? I heard it from Eliza, and it feels like the kind of thing she’d say to try to wind me up.”

Miles laughs softly. “It’s true.”

Booker shifts Noah in his arms, and I get the full force of the baby’s adorable, toothless smile.

“Does it make me too much of a fanboy if I tell you they’re two of my favorite science fiction books I’ve ever read?”

Miles’s expression flickers from high to low like a newfound thrill is duking it out with his humility. “Not too much of a fanboy at all. I appreciate hearing that.”

Oh my gosh, this man doesn’t know how to take praise. He struggles enough when I tell him he’s a great boss or when I compliment an idea he’s had for the bookshop. But it’s so much worse when the praise is for his writing.

“I’ve been reading science fiction since I was a kid. I genuinely couldn’t believe the Quantum series is your debut. Nothing against debuts,” he adds quickly. “It just reads like so many of the greats. Not that you lifted anything from them. Your books are totally unique. But familiar, do you know what I mean? But fresh.”

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