Page 18 of Trick or Tease

GARRETT

A n hour later, I found myself elbow deep in straw, trying to stuff a burlap sack that would become the torso of our next scarecrow. This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned to spend my afternoon, but somehow I’d gotten swept up in the project.

And when in Rome…

“More straw in the shoulders,” Sabrina called out from where she was working on another scarecrow about ten feet away. “They need to look substantial, not like deflated balloons.”

I packed more straw into the shoulders, accidentally getting a piece stuck in my hair. When I reached up to brush it out, I caught Sabrina watching me with an amused expression.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said, but she was fighting back a smile. “Just never thought I’d see the day when Garrett Hogan would be playing in the hay again.”

“I’m not playing,” I said, though even as the words came out, I realized how ridiculous they sounded. I was literally stuffing straw into a sack to make a fake person. If that wasn’t playing, I didn’t know what was.

Billy appeared around the corner of the corn path, dragging another wooden post behind him. “How are we doing over here?”

“Good,” I said, lifting my completed torso. “Where do you want this guy?”

“Follow me. We need to name him.”

“Name him?”

“I told you,” Sabrina said with exasperation. “We name them so we can divide the maze into sections. It makes it easier for us to monitor the maze. If people get lost, they can call us or call out and tell us what scarecrow they are looking at. Then we come and save them.”

That was smart.

“Makes sense,” I said.

“So, what name should we give him?” Sabrina asked.

“Big Boy Bob.” I had met the other scarecrow, Hollow Hal. There was also a Jumpy Jim. Big Boy Bob seemed like the next best one.

Sabrina grinned. “Big Boy Bob it is.”

We got busy dragging the bags of straw deeper into the maze.

Each scarecrow’s arms were rigged to point visitors in the right direction.

Again, I was surprised. It was a clever system that Billy and Sabrina had devised to keep people from getting genuinely lost. I had not given them credit they deserved.

Am I the asshole?

Yes, yes, I am.

“The trick is making them look natural,” Sabrina explained as we worked on the fourth scarecrow. She was standing close enough that I could smell her shampoo and how fresh and amazing her scent was. It was completely at odds with the fact that she was covered in dirt and straw.

Fuck me.

I wanted to grab her and throw her down in the middle of the corn and have my way with her.

“If they’re too obviously pointing the way, it ruins the illusion,” she said.

I watched her as she fixed the scarecrow’s arm. She was so capable. She made knots that wouldn’t slip loose. It was the sort of thing that was hard not to look at, someone just knowing exactly what needs to get done.

I was turned on. What the fuck was that about?

It was the confidence. I was drawn to her give-no-fucks attitude.

I liked that she wore jeans and tees. Work boots.

She didn’t have any makeup on. Or if she did, it was minimal.

My world was filled with women that spent a lot of time on their appearance.

They would never be caught dead wearing jeans and boots that had seen better days.

Their tans were the work of spray. Sabrina’s tan was the result of spending hours in the sun doing manual labor.

Her body was rocking, but it wasn’t hours of Pilates and yoga.

Her body was the result of working on the farm.

Fuck me.

Why did I want her so badly?

“You’re staring,” she said without looking at me.

“I’m observing your technique,” I replied, which was technically true but sounded ridiculous even to my own ears.

She glanced over at me then, and for a moment, there was something in her expression that made my jeans too tight. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Before I could figure out how to respond to that, Billy’s voice came from somewhere deeper in the maze. “Hey, can someone help me with this post? It’s not going in straight.”

“Coming!” Sabrina called back, but she didn’t move immediately. She was still looking at me like she could read my mind.

“Let’s go help him,” I said.

The interruption was exactly what I needed.

We found Billy opening a cardboard box with his pocketknife. There were several large boxes.

“What’s all this?” I asked. My first reaction was to ask how much it all cost.

But I had to trust him. It was his show. After what I had seen, they seemed to know what they were doing. Billy had apparently gone overboard at some party supply warehouse, because we had enough decorations to outfit a small theme park.

“There was a huge sale,” Billy said. “Halloween online store. It’s all cheap but it’s not like we need real quality. It works.”

“No way!” Sabrina said with excitement. “Did you get the spiders?”

I shuddered. “Spiders?”

Sabrina grabbed one of the boxes and ripped it open. “Spiders!” Sabrina said with glee.

I took a step back. I didn’t think they would actually buy spiders, but they were all just a little deranged, so I wouldn’t put it past them.

“Yes!” Sabrina let out a whoop. She held up a huge black, plastic blob.

Not a blob.

It was the spider she spoke of.

She was holding up what had to be the most realistic fake tarantula I’d ever seen. The thing was the size of a dinner plate and covered in coarse black fur that looked disturbingly real.

Goosebumps spread up and down my arms.

When did I become such a pussy?

She turned and held it up for me to see and then lunged at me with it.

I stumbled backward so fast I nearly tripped over the cardboard box behind me. My heart hammered against my ribs as that thing swayed inches from my face.

“Fuck, Sabrina!” I snapped, my voice coming out sharper than I’d intended.

She froze, the fake spider still dangling from her fingers. The playful grin on her face faltered as she took in my reaction.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, lowering the spider. “I was just messing around. I didn’t think?—”

“It’s fine,” I said, even though it wasn’t. My pulse was still racing. I could feel that familiar tightness in my chest that came with being caught off guard. I hated how exposed I felt, how she’d managed to rattle me so easily.

I forced myself to take a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. This was ridiculous. I was a grown man who negotiated billion-dollar deals for a living, and I was letting a plastic spider turn me into a nervous wreck.

“That thing is ridiculous,” I muttered.

“And awesome.” She grinned.

I rolled my eyes. “I suppose there are more?”

“Lots!”

“Where are they going?” I asked with resignation.

“Corner of section three,” Sabrina said, consulting the hand-drawn map Billy had sketched on notebook paper. “Right where the path makes that sharp turn. We want people to walk right into it. Jim’s section.”

“Jim. Right.”

“Here, take some web.”

She tossed a bag of white stuff at me. I knew what it was. I had helped decorate the office last year.

I carried the spider into the maze, following the narrow path between towering cornstalks.

I found the spot Sabrina had indicated and looked around for somewhere to hang the spider.

There was a wooden support post about seven feet up that would work perfectly.

I dropped the spider on the ground and ripped open the package of spider web material.

I started to spread it out, creating what I hoped looked like a realistic web. I almost laughed at myself. If my coworkers could see me now. No one knew this side of me. Some knew I came from a small town, but they didn’t know just how small or the fact I grew up on a farm.

“Need help?” Sabrina appeared behind me, carrying an armload of what looked like bed sheets.

“I’ve got it,” I said.

“It looks good.” She nodded.

“Can you hand me the spider?”

She handed me the spider, our hands brushing. I ignored the heat that ran through my body. It wasn’t just the touch. It was the close proximity.

“Thanks,” I managed.

I adjusted the nasty spider and stepped back. “Good?”

“Perfect. Perfectly terrifying.”

“I guess that’s the goal.”

She held up the sheets. “Want to help me turn these into ghosts? Billy bought about twenty sheets at the thrift store. Apparently we’re going for quantity over quality.”

“Sure.”

We spent the next hour creating what had to be the most half-assed ghost army in Halloween history. The process was simple enough—drape a sheet over a wooden frame, secure it with rope, and draw on a face with black marker. But somehow we kept finding ways to make it complicated.

“That one looks more confused than scared,” I said, pointing to Sabrina’s latest creation.

“The ghost isn’t scared,” she said and rolled her eyes. “The ghost is the scarer.”

“Silly me,” I said dryly.

By the end of the day, I was covered in dirt, my polo shirt was torn in two places, and I’d discovered muscles in my back that I’d forgotten existed. But somehow, I was actually enjoying myself.

We managed to set up twelve scarecrows throughout the maze, each one positioned to guide visitors along the correct path while still maintaining the illusion of being lost. The ghost army was stationed at strategic points, and Sabrina’s spider collection had been distributed with what I had to admit was impressive attention to psychological impact.

Just when a person thought they were safe from Charlotte, there was a spider that would hit anyone over five-foot tall in the face.

She talked about creating a pulley system to lower the spiders but we vetoed that. That was a little too disturbing.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Billy announced, emerging from the deeper sections of the maze with straw stuck to his shirt. “I’m going to take Lucy home. Need a ride, Sabrina?”

“Nah, I’m good. Short walk.”

Billy shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

After they disappeared through the cornstalks, I found myself alone with Sabrina in the maze. And that was dangerous.

“You know,” Sabrina said with a cocky smile. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d last an hour out here.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said dryly.

“I’m serious. You surprised me today.” She turned to face me, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from her face. “I thought you’d spend the whole time complaining about getting dirty or worrying about your fancy clothes.”

“These aren’t fancy clothes,” I protested, though looking down at what had once been a sixty-dollar polo shirt, I realized how ridiculous that sounded.

“Garrett, that shirt probably cost more than I spend on clothes in three months.”

“It’s just a shirt.”

“Exactly.” She stepped closer. Too close. “That’s what I mean. You didn’t act like it was precious. You just got to work. Like the old Garrett.”

“Maybe I’m not as uptight as you think I am,” I said.

“Maybe you’re not.” Her voice was softer now, and she was standing close enough that I could reach out and touch her.

Kiss her.

Her gaze dropped to my mouth and I couldn’t help but think back to the moment on my balcony.

She wanted me to kiss her.

I wanted it.

“This isn’t a good idea.” I stepped back. The cool air was suddenly frigid. “I’ve got to go. This isn’t smart. I’m not going to be here long. Goodnight, Sabrina.”