CHAPTER SIX
HAZEL
Dampness drenched my thighs as I gripped Zack’s hand tight just to stay upright. Or, as upright as I could at least, considering that my legs wobbled with every damn step I took to the moment we were off the hayride.
“What did you do, baller boy?” I muttered.
That came out breathless. Score two for the Jock.
“Do you want a coffee?” Zack asked nonchalantly. His arm draped around my shoulders as though nothing untoward had happened between us at all. Nothing more than a kiss, maybe or some heavy flirtation.
Only the hay ride driver, the bat person and the two of us might know that my scream wasn’t from fright at all.
“Is it really the time?” I managed to sound grumpy as fuck and I was proud of that.
Someone called out and Zack waved back, his goofy smile fixed in place.
“Yeah, you’re gonna need the energy,” he said softly. “We’ve got a whole lot more to get through tonight.”
My legs trembled at the thought of what more entailed.
“I think we should call it a night, don’t you?” I said faintly.
He stopped walking and looked down at me. The night had closed in, blotting out the stars, and his eyes were unreadable. “Did you choose to come out tonight to push boundaries or are you playing it safe, teach?” he asked softly. One hand rested against my lower back.
School approved embrace. Check.
But the look in his eyes promised me that what we’d just done was small to whatever he had in mind for next.
“You don’t know me,” I breathed, pressing backward. My legs trembled and chose that moment to give up. I was all too ready to sit my butt on the grass like a kid, but Zack kept me standing, lacking both hands around my waist, and using his body for support.
“I know you work hard. I know you’re stuck between wanting to be you and hiding behind who you think you should be.
And I think there's a part of Miss Templeton who got hurt once. Maybe a while ago, maybe some time more recent. She figures that being safe all the time is the easiest way never to be hurt again.” His eyes dared me to tell him that he read me wrong.
I couldn’t.
“Haunted house is up next, right?” I choked out.
A moment passed where I thought I might witness a flash of triumph in his eyes, or worse, pity.
Instead, Zack leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“I know the best one in town,” he promised softly.
“And what sort of tour guide would I be if I didn’t let you choose between trying Broomcorn’s famous iced tea, or another one of those spiced lattes? ”
I bit my lip. “You’re too nice,” I whispered, unwilling to tell him I couldn't choose. That too many choices were overwhelming after the corn maze.
“Too much?” He leaned down, cupping my chin until I had to look up at him and read the truth in my eyes. The corners of his lips quirked. “Don’t play poker, Miss Templeton. Iced chai, or Cherry Pie tea?”
I blinked. “I hate making decisions,” I whispered. “I was trying to get out of choosing between hot and cold a minute ago.”
He surveyed me. “Come on. The cherry is good and it doesn’t give you flash backs of cough syrup from your childhood.”
I choked on a laugh. “That’s always a bonus.” I let him lead us to a drinks stand that looked like a fantasy stall full of drink machines and bright liquids.
A head taller—maybe shoulders, too—than everyone else, Zack managed to secure an order, and soon I had a small iced tea in my hands and Zack’s arms around me again.
“You’re feely. And comfy,” I added as he tucked me against his chest beneath the glow of fake fireflies in jars dangling beneath a tree. No one else seemed to have found the spot so for the moment, we were out of the crowd.
“I like contact.” The behemoth at my back shrugged.
“And you’re not half as stupid as you let people believe.” I clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was too late. That thought was in the open and there was no taking it back now.
Zack stiffened. “Is that what they think?” he drawled softly, but there was a tension that stilted his words that wasn't there before.
I bit my lip and turned to face him. “Damn. I’m sorry,.
” I apologized. “I saw everything that comes to mind. You wanted a cultural immersion for me? Well, welcome to mine. Sometimes, we’re considered really rude because Aussies tend not to sugar coat stuff.
And you, Mister Dawson, have been the perfect gentleman all night long. ”
His eyes darkened as he leaned in, his hands clamped around my waist. “Even when I hand my hand up your skirt, teach?”
My heart beat ramped it right up. “Ah, maybe not then? But you found ways not to get me sacked on the spot. I hope,” I whispered back, my heart thumping hard against my ribs.
“Yeah?” He massaged my nape gentle, warm, firm circles that left my head tipped back and his breath on my lips. A gentle pinch to my side left me suffocating a squeak that would have drawn every eye in the vicinity. “Finish your tea, honey. There’s a few things left I want to show you.”
I found a trash can—proud of myself for getting the language right in my head—and the sign that said, “Haunted House”.
“This one?” I said doubtfully, aiming a thumb at the brightly lit and people filled path heading toward what looked like a decorated shed.
Zack grinned, and the old him was back. “Did I mention something about the best tour in town? This way, Miss Templeton.” He turned me in the opposite direction, along a literal garden path that led into an unlit section of…
The woods.
“Ah, I’m going to get murdered,” I joked/didn't joke at all.
Zack leaned across the path and rapped on a tree trunk with the back of his fist. “Hey, can you all come out? My girl needs proof of life.”
I took a step back, but Zack’s hand fixed firmly to mine. “I really need to get back—” I whispered.
“You’re good,” he whispered back. “This isn’t as crazy as it looks. Just a haunted woods, okay?”
That’s not crazy at all.
“We have bush at home and the worst thing you can do is step on a snake,” I muttered.
The tree next to me giggled.
It giggled.
“I like her sass,” it announced.
I stared as a tall black and white skeleton climbed out from behind it. Zack flicked on a black light torch, showing up a whole forest of skeletons who emerged, if somewhat belatedly. I grinned as the nearest one pulled off his head sock to reveal…
“You have a really high pitched giggle,” I informed Jordan.
“You like the effect?” He fist bumped Zack, who was talking to another skeleton. “Usually we’re the last, or almost the last place people come for the night. They’re still doing all the regular stuff. Your boy jumped the line bringing you here.” His gaze lit on me, then flicked back to Zack.
I almost protested that I wasn’t Zack’s and he wasn’t mine, then I remembered what happened in the corn maze and closed my mouth, confused. “It’s a really good effect,” I said instead.
“Yeah, not bad. All right, get back into place,” he called. A few skeletons grumbled as Jordan shooed his team into place. “We’ll be here when you come back out. Or are you heading for the lantern walk afterward?”
Zack shrugged. “See how we go, I guess,” he answered noncommittally. “It’s pretty late, and this is our first fair.”
Skeleton-Jordan nodded, his bony face lit up by the black light. “See you at training.”
“Sure thing.” Zack folded me against him, drawing me between the trees. I stared around for the skeleton army, but once the flashlight was turned off, they hid amazingly well.
“Where is the—”
“This way.” He set off at a slightly faster pace as I peered between trees, and trotted to keep up.
“Are we keeping ahead of the oncoming hoards, or do you have another plan?” I murmured, once we were out of Skeleton Lane.
“Bit of both.” The forest excluded most light, the canopy thick overhead.
“This is a bigger set up than I imagined,” I admitted as the path wound around what I thought was a big oak, but in the darkness, I could have been wrong. “Are we on the edge of town?” I tried to picture Broomcorn Hollow in my head, but knew I’d turned myself around mentally.
“My brother’s farm is that way.” Zack pointed off to the left. “The river is just ahead. School is behind us,” —that was helpful, I turned with him as he made out landmarks I couldn’t see— “and right ahead of us is…”
The trees opened up to display a giant, gothic mansion that should have been the focus of a nightmarish horror movie complete with a graveyard in the foreground.
“Anthea Manor.”
“That’s impressive,” I whispered as we passed through creaky, black wrought iron gates. A chill rippled over me. I clung to Zack’s side. “I’ll take Tim Curry serenading me in a flash mob right now, please.”
His laugh filled the deserted yard as fog drifted across it that didn’t smell like smoke machine props at all. “That would be fun. I’ll add it to next year’s list,” he assured me. “One please,” he told a grave stone.
The top popped a ticket up. “You’re weeding my garden next week, Dawson,” grumped the grave.
“On it, Mister G,” Zack called down, knocking on the stone gently as he took his ticket.
I stared. “This exceeds all expectations.
Zack shrugged. “I help repair the house now and again. Do some of the decorating. And the lights. Mister G doesn’t actually come in much anymore. He has a cottage down the street closer to the town. It suits him, and he’s a bit of a busybody.”
“I heard that,” said the gravestone.
“Come on.” Zack towed me toward the front door. “There’s not a lot of boo moments until the third floor. I want to take you somewhere…” He knocked on the door twice then thumped his boot on a hollow sounding floor board.
The door popped open.
“You have a secret latch?” I said, awed. “The kids will love this. Is it kid friendly?” I asked nervously.
Zack looked down at me. “Not tonight,” he murmured as he swung me into the darkness, and the door shut behind us, closing out all light.