Chapter 50 #2
I smile, but I doubt he can see it. “Resting.”
“Oh yeah?”
“My butt hurts,” I admit.
“Your pride, too, I’m guessing.”
I glare at him.
“Want help up?” He offers his hand. “Or do you need another moment to process your loss to a scarecrow?”
I slip my hand in the warmth of his palm, and his fingers curl around mine. He pulls me up slowly until my body is against his.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.” Why does it come out husky?
His hand slides to my shoulder, fingertips brushing softly. “Does this hurt?”
“No.”
His hand slides to my back, his palm warm against my skin through the fabric. He trails my spine, palm pressing.
“How about here?”
The closeness makes my heart race.
I lean into his touch. “It’s alright.”
Finally, his hand moves lower, resting on my hip. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if careful not to hurt me.
“And your side? How is your hip?”
I bite my lip, cheeks warming under his gaze. His hand gives a soft, reassuring squeeze.
“I’m fine,” I whisper, barely able to speak.
“And here?” His hands don’t make it all the way down my butt cheeks when Dean shouts at us.
“Come on, guys!”
Hart laces his finger in mine. “Ready?”
I finally find my voice. “Ready to kick their ass.”
We tear down another path, clipping the walls of hay, slapping my arms and shoulders. When we reach the end of the trail, Dean and Harper are nowhere to be found.
“And they’re gone.” Hart slows to a walk. “Didn’t have the heart to tell them this isn’t on the bucket list, huh?” He tugs me around the next corner.
“No. Besides, it wouldn’t have stopped them. I think this is more about them reliving their childhood.” I tug him around the next corner.
“You mean they stopped? They grew up?”
I laugh.
We come to a dead end.
“I reckon we might be lost.” Hart readjusts his hat.
“You’re known for getting us lost. Remember our detour here? You straight-up took all the wrong turns.” I turn and stumble.
Hart catches me. “Not lost. Strategically exploring.”
“Strategic? You might need to grab a dictionary.”
His arm tightens around my waist. “Number twenty, get lost on a road trip.”
My lips part. “You got us lost on purpose?”
He nods. “I just couldn’t tell you.”
My hands rest on his chest. “We’re going to have to finish the second part of that challenge.”
He smirks. “I did see plenty of abandoned barns during our adventure.” His lips brush mine. “Each barn we passed reminded me of the second part. A part I pushed out of my mind because I never thought it would come true.”
“All the more reason to see it through.”
“Sort of like the hay bales challenge.” His voice dips low, like he’s ready to fuck me right here.
My pulse pounds at the thought.
“There you guys are.” Dean huffs behind us. “I’m not about to let the barbecue asshole who thinks his meat is better than mine win. Let’s go. You already fucked me at horseshoes. Chop-chop.” He claps his hands.
“Does he hear himself?” I ask Hart. “Like, does he really hear the choice words he uses?”
Hart bellows in laughter. “He doesn’t.”
The night stretches on, and Dean’s determination has us picking up speed every time we take a wrong twist or turn. Every corner looks the same, narrow, dark, and endless. My lungs burn.
Voices rise close. Bronx is yelling, and Josie is shushing him.
“Over here.” Dean guides us down a side path. “Shortcut.”
“How do you know?” Hart asks.
“I don’t.”
We laugh so hard I almost pee myself.
“Brilliant strategy,” Harper says.
“From the woman who tried to tackle a scarecrow and lost.”
Another turn—wrong again. Dead end. Then that scarecrow. Again.
We all groan, breathless and laughing.
“Okay, y’all, we’ve passed that stupid scarecrow three times,” I whisper-yell. “He’s taunting us now.”
“I think he winked at me.” Harper clings to Dean’s arm.
“We’re walking in circles.” Hart is right behind me, so close, I feel his heat.
Some far-off sounds of the other group screaming pierce us.
“I have an idea.” Hart moves in front of me. “I’m gonna hoist Jade up. Maybe she can find the exit.”
Me?
Up there?
On him?
“Ooh! Yes! Shoulder view.” I punch his shoulder in my excitement. “Gimme that height.”
But inside, I’m in a whole meltdown zone.
Heart racing.
Palms sweating.
Zero chill.
“Hart, the strict rule-follower, didn’t take you as a cheater,” Dean says as Hart crouches in front of me.
“They didn’t give us rules.” Hart’s hands slide around the backs of my thighs: warm, firm, confident. “And I’m not a cheater. Consider this a rules-adjacent, critical-thinking strategy.”
“Alright. I like your strategy. Climb on, baby.” Dean lowers himself for Harper to climb on, but I barely notice when all I can feel is the pads of his fingers pressing into my skin through the denim.
Not rushing.
Not fumbling.
“Just jump, I’ve got you.” The way he says he’s got me burns into the deepest part of my soul.
He does have me.
He’ll always have me.
“Okay. One, two—”
I jump a little, and he lifts me like it’s nothing. His hands steady on my thighs as I rise above the maze, high and balanced, legs slipping naturally over his chest. His shoulders are solid, and his body heat is everywhere.
His hands glide up, hooking behind my knees. I grab the sides of his head for balance, his scruff tickling my palms.
“You good?” His voice vibrates straight through my thighs and right into my spine.
I can’t even think straight. “Yep,” I manage, my voice too high. “Totally good. All great up here.”
He chuckles; hands still wrapped around the backs of my legs.
Lord, I could live here.
Just a girl. On a guy. In a maze.
He starts walking. Every step rocks me gently. Every step, I feel him more. And I never want to get down.
“Where am I headed?” he asks.
It takes me a second to focus on the task I was given, but I scan above the hay bales. “Go left at the next fork.”
“She’s right.” Harper is at my level next to me on Dean’s shoulders.
Hart starts marching. Dean follows.
Right.
Quick left.
We push forward without pause. I lift myself higher, trying to see over the bales, but the taller ones ahead make it harder to spot anything clearly.
I tap his shoulder. “Left.”
He takes it, and we’re closer now. Every step forward is in the right direction. Then the path straightens, long, and I see the exit just ahead, wide and waiting.
“There!” Harper points.
The guys crouch and we slide off.
Hart’s hands linger on my waist, and when I hit the ground, I look up at him.
“You good?” His voice is soft now.
My heart’s still racing. “Good. Yes.”
We stand there for a second.
“We should’ve had this on our bucket list,” I say. “Or make it a yearly tradition.”
Since when do I make traditions? I do my best to avoid such things.
His hand slides up my arm and rests on my throat. “If it involves you climbing me again, I’m in.”
My cheeks go redder than a ripe tomato on my Mama’s windowsill. “Noted.”
Then Dean breaks the silence again. “C’mon, we’re so close.” He slaps Hart as they take off running past us.
We burst out of the maze seconds before the other group runs out the opposite side.
“Ha!” Dean doubles over, panting, fist high in triumph. “We won.”
“We won.” Hart bends with his hands on his knees.
Dean slaps his arm. “Get up, old man, you’re making us look bad.”
“Won by a hair,” Bronx argues.
“I want honey-glazed.” I point at the other group, mainly Josie. “How does it feel to be losers?”
“Cheaters. Y’all were peeking over the hay bales.” She’s not wrong.
“Is it cheating if you didn’t give us any rules?” I wink at Hart.
A flashlight pierces us. “Hey there! Stop!”
We run. And I love every second of it. Love the thrill. Love that we almost get caught. Love when we all outrun the security.
I love that Hart holds my hand the entire time and kisses me when we’re long gone from the maze. I love that he doesn’t stop holding my hand all the way to the campground because I love him. I love him with all my heart and soul, and I never want to be apart again.
That’s why it hits harder when we get back to the campsite, and the privacy we had all day disappears.
There’s pie. Whispers of “happy birthday” in my ear.
But they celebrate it so low-key, that I wouldn’t even classify it as a birthday.
Instead, Hannah shows the Wildes how to bake pie in foil packets over the campfire.
I love them for it. And through the somewhat quiet evening—as quiet as it can be with a herd of Foxes and Wildes—there is this new-found enjoyment.
But when the night winds down, it’s even harder watching him walk to his tent before I climb into bed with Natalie.
My body hums with memories of the day.
My mind spins with images of him.
So much happened today. What started as a trip to the animal shelter turned into a lovemaking session I didn’t think could get any better, but then running through a hay maze, laughing and joking with our families, that’s a treasure I’ll never forget.
“Just go to his tent,” Natalie murmurs.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s been an hour and you’re still not asleep.” She rolls over to face me. “Go to Hart. Please. I can’t sleep with you. And you don’t want to sleep with me.”
“That’s, not—”
Her finger presses against my mouth. “I don’t care. Go.”
I smile. “Okay. Bye. Love you.”
“Love you too, but just go.”
I slip out of bed and creep across the RV.