Chapter 31 Pumpkin Patch Photoshoot & Corn Maze Chaos #3
My legs are shaking, my lungs are burning, and I’m laughing because I can’t believe we just did that, out here in the middle of a corn maze, under a sky of party store fairy lights. Rowan wraps both arms around me, pulls me down so my face presses into his neck, and for a moment, we just breathe.
It’s not awkward, not even a little; it’s inevitable, like everything in my life was supposed to scramble and come back together just like this.
I slide off him eventually, rolling to a bed of scattered straw, and prop my chin on his chest. He strokes my hair, slow and tender, as if he’s not entirely sure I won’t vanish if he stops.
We’re both still barely dressed—my bra straps askew, his jeans abandoned at his ankles, my leggings inside-out and somewhere in the hay—but I don’t care. I’ve never felt less exposed.
I look up and he’s got this expression, half-dazed and half-daring me to laugh at him.
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, beaming.
“I’m not the one who broke the hay bale,” I shoot back, grinning.
He laughs, the sound low and warm, and it vibrates through my cheek where it rests against his chest. He tilts my face up and kisses my nose.
“I think I’m in love with you, Hazel.”
It should scare me, hearing those words. Instead, I melt, because the way he says it is like he’s finally letting himself believe it. The ache in my chest is sharp, sweet, and I don’t know how to answer, so I just kiss him back—slow, lingering, letting my tongue trace the seam of his lips.
Neither of us moves for a long, slow minute.
I listen to his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the way he never stops touching me—his thumb circling my elbow, his hand tucked in my hair, his knee brushing mine in a never-ending loop of reassurance.
My scent is everywhere, curling around us bright and sharp, cut only by the faintest smoke and cedar from him. I wonder if he thinks about this, too, the way we smell together.
Eventually, he sighs.
“Luca and Levi are going to give us so much shit.”
I snort.
“They wish they were this romantic.”
He kisses my forehead, then runs one palm over my thigh with a lazy possessiveness.
“You know, if we’re quick, we could beat them to the exit and pretend nothing happened.”
I grin, but the idea of moving is laughable.
“I can’t feel my legs,” I confess.
He grins back, wolfish.
“I’ll carry you.”
Of course he will. I nuzzle into his chest, feeling completely, blissfully safe.
“Rowan?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time, let’s try a hayloft. Less splinters.”
He laughs so hard I feel it in my bones.
As if on cue, voices echo from somewhere in the maze—Levi's laughter, Luca's drier tone. "Hazel? Rowan? You two get eaten by corn monsters?"
I stifle a laugh, scrambling for my clothes.
"Coming!" I call back, then whisper to Rowan, "Think they heard?"
"With Levi's hearing? Probably." He helps me into my sweater, brushing more hay from my hair. We managed to put our clothes back on, getting the last bits of hay out of…everywhere, when—
"FOUND THEM!"
We break apart to find Levi's head poking through the corn wall like a demented scarecrow.
"That's not an entrance," Rowan points out.
"It is now!" Levi crashes through, dragging Luca, who looks resigned to his brother's chaos. They're both covered in hay and what appears to be caramel.
"Do I want to know?" I ask.
"Probably not," Luca says, pulling hay from his hair. "There was an incident with a caramel apple stand."
"And a small child."
"And a goat."
"Why was there a goat?"
"Petting zoo got loose."
"Of course it did."
We make our way out of the maze together, Levi insisting he knows a shortcut that definitely makes us more lost, Luca documenting everything with his phone, Rowan keeping his arm around me like he's afraid I'll disappear into the corn.
When we finally emerge—twenty minutes and three arguments later—the sun is setting, painting everything gold and orange. The festival has that magical evening glow, lights coming on, families heading home, couples getting closer as the temperature drops.
"Family photo!" Reverie appears from nowhere because she has a sixth sense for photo opportunities. "In front of the maze entrance! The arch is perfectly lit!"
"We're not—" I start to protest, but Rowan's already positioning me in the center, the twins flanking us, and maybe we're not family in the traditional sense but—
"Everyone say 'pack'!" Reverie calls.
"Pack!" we chorus, and the flash captures us laughing, covered in hay and caramel and whipped cream, looking absolutely ridiculous and absolutely perfect.
"That one's going on the Christmas card," Levi declares.
"We're not doing Christmas cards."
"We're definitely doing Christmas cards."
"I design them," Luca says. "You'll be festive. Resistance is futile."
"I'll bake cookies to go with them," I threaten.
"That's not a threat, that's a promise of deliciousness."
Damn. Need better threats.
As we walk back to the parking area, Rowan's hand in mine, Levi and Luca bickering about optimal Christmas card fonts, Reverie editing photos on her phone while walking —a skill that defies physics— I realize something.
This is it. This is belonging.
Not the big moments—the declarations, the grand gestures, the marking that will come eventually. But this. Corn maze adventures and whipped cream wars and arguments about Christmas cards in October.
"You okay?" Rowan asks, noticing my silence.
"Perfect," I say, meaning it. "Absolutely perfect."
"Even covered in hay and caramel?"
"Especially covered in hay and caramel."
"Good. Because Levi's about to—"
A pile of decorative hay lands on my head.
"LEVI!"
"You looked cold!"
"That's not how hay works!"
"It is if you believe!"
I chase him through the parking lot while Rowan and Luca watch with fond exasperation, Reverie filming because why the fuck not, and the October evening wraps around us like a blanket.
Three Alphas. One Omega. One pack.
And the best damn corn maze photo this town has ever seen.
Even if I do look like I've been attacked by an aggressive pumpkin pie.
Never a dull moment in Oakridge.