Page 5 of Mountain Man's Corn Maze Cutie
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 fromher 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?”
