Page 31 of The Red-Hot Stakes

There were wagon rides, zip lines, a corn maze, a pumpkin slingshot, an apple cannon, cider and donuts, plus apple and pumpkin picking. The air held just the right hint of fall crispness, a nip that teased before winter took over. The sky was my favorite shade of blue, with hardly a cloud in it, and the trees were starting to turn vibrant colors.

Liam chuckled as I nearly bounced on my toes. “What should we do first? They have a wristband option that lets you do everything. You up for that?” When I nodded eagerly, he grabbed my hand to tug me along, a jolt shooting through me at his casual touch. “Come on then.”

Chapter Eight

Liam hurried us to the ticket booth and dazzled the lady with his charming grin. “Two wristbands please. How challenging is the corn maze?”

The poor lady took a moment to answer, and I empathized, still reeling from him grabbing my hand.

She slid us our wristbands along with his change. “There are two mazes. The more difficult one takes most people an hour and a half to get through.”

As we left the booth, I asked, “Has Avery told you about my innate sense of direction?”

Liam rolled his eyes, but I put a hand on his arm, making him stop. At the escape room last year, he’d mansplained his ex-girlfriend Carla practically to death, and I worried he’d try to take over in the maze. Better to talk about it now.

“Hang on. I know it’s a stereotype that most women can’t find their way out of a paper bag, but that’s not me. I’ve always been the one who knows where we are, can put us back on the right path if we get lost. Avery has several stories about me navigating us home, while drunk, and the sober DD was completely turned around. I love that kind of thing,” I said, gesturing to the huge corn maze. “But I won’t do it if you’re just going to get in there and bulldoze me around because you think I have some piss-poor sense of direction.” I’d had that with other guys, including Josh. To the point I’d avoided this type of activity with him.

Liam sighed. “This date isn’t going to go well if you start making assumptions about me right off the bat.”

Wait, what?

He leaned in. “I know perfectly well how capable you are, Red. How about we just go have some fun?” His elbow nudged mine. “Wanna go shoot a pumpkin out of a slingshot?”

Dammit, I am judging him again. I bit my lip. “Sorry, Liam. You’re right.”

He reared back. “What was that?” He cupped his hand over his ear. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

I chuckled, bumping my shoulder against his way-too-big upper arm. “You heard me. And yes, I definitely want to go shoot a pumpkin out of a slingshot, and see what an apple canon is.” I took a deep breath, letting go of my need to obsess, letting go of my preconceived notions, and just let the moment unfold.

His dazzling grin made my stomach flip. “Thatta girl.”

He hesitated then offered me his hand once more. I slid mine into his, watching as it practically disappeared in his huge grip. The slingshot was huge. A wide-open space behind it boasted several targets, and netting separated those standing in line from those shooting. Liam didn’t let go of my hand the whole time we waited, but I didn’t mind. We chatted easily without any awkward pauses or uncomfortable lulls, and I was pleasantly surprised by how happy and content I felt.

Finally it was our turn, and the employee checked our wristbands. “You get three shots a piece.”

A crate of pumpkins sat near the slingshot, so we each selected one. Liam went first, putting his bowling-ball sized pumpkin into the cradle of the slingshot, then tried to pull it back. It immediately fell out, and we laughed.

“Can I help?” I asked.

At his nod, I grabbed a handle, and we each kept one hand on the pumpkin. Then we walked backward, stretching the cord until the slingshot was taut.

“Release on three?” he asked.

I nodded, concentrating on not losing my grip. Liam counted down, then we let go and watched the pumpkin sail into the air. It was nowhere near the target, but it hit the ground with a satisfying splat that had us high-fiving.

“Again!” I exclaimed. We went through the rest of our turns, actually managing to hit two targets. It was harder than it looked.

The apple cannon was right next door. The air-powered gun was huge. If I spread my arms out, I might be able to touch from the tip of the barrel to the other end, and it was mounted on a post, so you had to swivel it to aim. The employee handed each of us a bucket of apples.

Liam went first again, putting an apple in the chute, lining up, and pulling the trigger. He almost nailed it. He dialed in quickly, able to hit the targets most of the time. When it was my turn, I stepped onto the platform, a little unsure. My first apple missed completely, so did the second.

“Want some advice?” Liam asked quietly.

I nodded, appreciating that he’d checked first and not just given it to me. He stepped onto the platform behind me and pointed out how to align my sight with the barrel. His firm touch on my hip and shoulder made my heart race, his heady scent wrapping around me.

“Looks good to me. You?” He breathed in, his chest brushing my back.

Another nod, and I hit the trigger, the apple clanging off the edge of the target. “I did it!”

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