Page 2 of Mountain Man’s Corn Maze Cutie (Wildwood Valley Harvest #3)

MARC

“ Y ou think that’s going to work?” my buddy Ashe asked as he eyed the sign I’d just made at his woodworking booth.

I’d used one of Ashe’s wood scraps and some paint from our coworker, Clayton. He was touching up the entrance to the festival today, and it was his paintbrush I set down as I eyed my creation.

No food or drink on trail , it read.

“Absolutely not.” I shook my head. “People don’t read signs.”

Ashe chuckled. “Maybe something that says, Enter at your own risk ?”

Yeah, I’d considered that one, but it sounded a little too much like we were doing a haunted maze. That would be interesting. Maybe next year.

“Marc!”

The voice shot through the air around us, and my heart immediately sped up at the sound.

It was the woman from the popcorn booth.

A woman who’d been making my life a living hell, and not just because her weird snack food was scattered on the small section of the grounds that I’d been tasked with keeping clean this week.

No, this was deeper. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since I’d seen her, and it was a pain in my backside.

I’d only met her a couple of hours ago, so I figured that would fade.

But now here she was, walking toward me, those rounded hips and generous tits making my hands ache to touch.

And that adorable blonde ponytail flopping behind her as she walked only added to it.

But she wasn’t happy. In fact, all her features were hardened. She was definitely under stress.

“We’ve lost a kid. We need your help.”

Kid? Help? It took a second for my mind to register the words. My body was automatically reacting to the fact that she’d sought me out when she needed someone. Damn if I didn’t love being her hero.

“What kid?” I was already moving, the sign forgotten as I stepped toward her.

“Oliver. One of the children from the church group this morning. Taylor—their leader—she came back to my booth looking for him. He wandered off while she was buying more popcorn.” Her words came out in a rush, and I could see the guilt written all over her face.

“They think he might have gone back into the maze alone.”

Fuck. A kid lost in my maze was my worst nightmare. I’d designed it to be challenging, but safe—provided kids didn’t wander around in there alone.

“How long has he been missing?” I asked, already heading toward the maze entrance.

“Twenty minutes, maybe thirty.” She was practically jogging to keep up with my longer strides. “Taylor’s been looking around the other booths, but she’s panicking.”

I could understand why. The maze covered nearly three acres, with pathways that twisted and doubled back on themselves. Even adults got turned around in there.

“Okay,” I said, my mind already shifting into tactical mode. “I know every inch of that maze. We’ll find him.”

“We?” she asked, slightly out of breath.

I stopped and looked down at her. “Unless you’ve got somewhere else to be.”

Something flickered in those green eyes of hers. “No, I want to help. I feel responsible.”

That hit me square in the chest. Most people would have washed their hands of the situation, but here she was, ready to trudge through a corn maze to find a kid she’d met once.

“Then let’s go,” I said.

The maze entrance loomed before us, the tall corn stalks creating natural walls that blocked out most of the late afternoon light. I grabbed two flashlights from the supply box I kept near the entrance.

“Stay close,” I told her, handing her one of the lights. “The pathways can be confusing if you don’t know the layout.”

“Oliver!” I called out as we entered the maze. “Oliver, can you hear me?”

Cecelia joined in. “Oliver! It’s Cecelia from the popcorn booth!”

We moved deeper into the maze, and I found myself hyper-aware of her presence beside me.

Every time she brushed against my arm as we navigated the narrow pathways, every time she had to duck under a low-hanging stalk and I caught a glimpse of the curve of her ass, my body reacted like I was a fucking teenager.

Focus, Marc. There’s a lost kid in here.

“Maybe we should split up,” she suggested as we reached the first major intersection. “Cover more ground?”

“Absolutely not.” The words came out sharper than I intended. “The last thing I need is two people lost in here.”

She bristled at my tone. “I’m not an idiot. I can follow a path.”

“These aren’t just paths. They’re a designed tactical maze. There are dead ends, false routes, and sections that loop back on themselves. If you don’t know the pattern, you’ll be lost in ten minutes.”

“Oliver!” she called out again, ignoring my lecture. Then she stopped and cocked her head. “Did you hear that?”

I listened, straining to hear anything over the rustle of corn stalks in the evening breeze. Then I heard it—a faint sound coming from somewhere to our left.

“This way,” I said, leading her down a pathway that curved sharply to the right.

“Shouldn’t we go left? That’s where the sound came from.”

“Trust me,” I said, not slowing down. “The acoustics in here are deceiving. Sound bounces off the stalks in ways that make it seem like it’s coming from a different direction.”

She followed reluctantly, and I could practically feel the skepticism radiating off her.

We walked in silence for a few minutes, the pathway narrow enough that she had to walk directly behind me.

I could smell her perfume—something light and floral that made my cock twitch every time I caught a whiff of it.

“Marc,” she said softly, and the way my name sounded on her lips made me want to stop walking and kiss her like she’d never been kissed before.

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure we’re going the right way? It feels like we’re getting farther from where we heard him.”

I stopped and turned to face her, and immediately regretted it.

In the fading light filtering through the corn, she looked like something out of a fantasy.

Wisps of hair had come loose from her ponytail, framing her face in soft waves, and her lips were slightly parted as she looked up at me with those big green eyes.

“I designed this maze,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended. “I know exactly where we are and where we’re going.”

“Okay,” she said, but I could tell she still had doubts.

We continued walking, and I found myself slowing my pace so she could keep up more easily. The pathway widened slightly, allowing her to walk beside me again, and I caught myself glancing down at her every few steps.

“Oliver!” she called out again. “Oliver, your group is looking for you!”

“Smart,” I said, and she looked up at me in surprise. “Mentioning his group. That’ll get his attention better than just calling his name.”

A small smile crossed her lips. “I work with kids sometimes. At the store. You learn a few tricks.”

“Store?”

“Yeah, I work in a clothing store. It’s for adults, but families come in, kids get bored, parents get stressed. Sometimes you have to be creative to keep everyone happy.”

I filed that information away, surprised by how much I wanted to know more about her life outside this festival. What was her store like? Did she enjoy retail, or was it just something she did to fund her popcorn business?

We reached another intersection, and this time I heard it clearly. A young voice, definitely coming from the right.

“There,” Cecelia said, pointing left. “He’s that way.”

“No, he’s not.” I turned right without hesitation.

“Marc, wait.” She grabbed my arm, and the contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to my dick. “I heard him. He’s to the left.”

“The sound is bouncing,” I explained, trying to ignore the way her fingers felt on my bicep. “He’s to the right. Trust me.”

She let go of my arm and crossed hers over her chest, pushing her tits up in a way that made it hard to think straight. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I spent weeks mapping the acoustics of this place. I know how sound travels through here.”

“That seems a little excessive for a corn maze.”

My jaw tightened. “Excessive?”

“I just mean?—”

“I know what you meant.” I turned and started walking right, not caring if she followed. “Sorry my attention to detail is too much for you.”

“That’s not what I said.” Her footsteps hurried to catch up with me. “I was just commenting?—”

“On how excessive I am. Got it.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

I stopped so abruptly that she nearly ran into my back. When I turned around, she had to tilt her head to look at me, and we were standing so close, I could see the gold flecks in her green eyes.

“You think I’m too serious,” I said, my voice low. “Too rigid. Too military.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” I stepped closer, and her breath hitched. “It’s written all over your face every time you look at me.”

“That’s not—” She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to my mouth for just a second before meeting my eyes again. “That’s not what I think.”

“Then what do you think?”

The question hung in the air between us, and I watched as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. My hands clenched into fists at my sides to keep from reaching for her.

“I think,” she said softly, “that you’re very good at what you do.”

Something hot and primal unfurled in my chest. “And what is it that I do?”

“Take charge.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Take care of things. Take care of people.”

Fuck. The way she was looking at me, like I was some kind of hero instead of a guy who built corn mazes for a living, made me want to show her exactly how good I could be at taking care of her.

“Hello?” a young voice called out, much closer now.

The spell between us broke, and I stepped back, immediately missing her warmth. “This way,” I said, my voice rougher than it should have been.

We followed the sound, turning left at the next intersection. That led us right back to where we would have been if we’d gone right at the previous one, just like I’d known it would.

“How did you—?” Cecelia started to ask, but I held up a hand.

“Oliver? Is that you, buddy?”

“Yeah!” a little voice called back. “I’m stuck!”

We rounded the final corner and found him sitting in a small clearing that marked one of the maze’s dead ends, looking frustrated but unharmed.

“Oliver!” Cecelia rushed forward and knelt beside him. “Are you okay? Your group is worried sick about you.”

“I got lost,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I thought I could find my way back out, but everything looks the same.”

“It’s okay,” she said gently. “That’s why these mazes are tricky. Come on, let’s get you back to Miss Taylor.”

I watched as she helped him to his feet, checking him over for injuries with the kind of care that made my chest tight. She was a natural with him, warm and reassuring without being condescending.

“Can you walk okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just embarrassed.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” I said, speaking up for the first time. “Happens to a lot of people. That’s why we don’t recommend going in alone.”

Oliver looked up at me with wide eyes. “Are you the guy who built this?”

“Guilty.”

“It’s really cool. I mean, I got lost, but it’s still cool.”

Despite everything, I found myself smiling. “Thanks, kid.”

The walk back to the entrance was easier, with me leading and Cecelia walking beside Oliver, keeping up a steady stream of chatter. I found myself listening to her voice, warm and animated as she answered his questions about making popcorn.

When we emerged from the maze, Taylor was waiting near the entrance, pacing frantically.

“Oliver!” She rushed over and pulled him into a hug. “Thank God. I was about to call your parents.”

“I’m sorry,” Oliver said, looking genuinely contrite. “I didn’t mean to scare anybody.”

“It’s okay, honey. Just don’t wander off again, okay?”

As Taylor fussed over Oliver, checking him for injuries just like Cecelia had, I found myself standing next to the popcorn queen herself, both of us watching the reunion.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, not looking at me. “For helping find him.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And I’m sorry. About what I said in there. I didn’t mean to imply that you were excessive.”

I looked down at her, taking in the way the sunlight caught the gold in her hair, the way she was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“What did you mean?” I asked.

She finally looked up at me, and something in her expression made my pulse quicken. “I meant that you’re thorough. Dedicated. And that’s not a bad thing.” She paused, then added softly, “It’s actually pretty attractive.”

Before I could respond to that, Taylor was approaching us with Oliver in tow. “I can’t thank you both enough. When I couldn’t find him, I just panicked.”

“It’s okay,” Cecelia said. “The important thing is that he’s safe.”

As we watched them walk away, Oliver turning back to wave at us before disappearing into the crowd, I realized that Cecelia and I were alone again. The tension that had been building between us in the maze was still there, humming in the air between us like a live wire.

“So,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess I should get back to my booth.”

“Probably.”

But neither of us moved.

“Cecelia,” I said, and she looked up at me with those green eyes that had been driving me crazy all day.

“Yeah?”

I opened my mouth to say something—what, I wasn’t sure—but then closed it again. Whatever this was between us, it was dangerous. She was here for a week, and then she’d be gone. I didn’t do temporary, and I sure as hell didn’t do complicated.

“Nothing,” I finally said. “I’ll see you around.”

I turned and walked away before I could do something stupid. Like ask her to dinner. Or tell her that she’d been the only thing on my mind since the moment I laid eyes on her.

But as I headed back toward Ashe’s booth to collect my sign, I could feel her watching me go, and I knew one thing. I was suddenly looking forward to the rest of this festival.