Page 8 of Mountain Man's Corn Maze Cutie
I was drawn to the truck like it was a magnet and I was steel. After a quick glance inside the cab showed only a disposable coffee cup in the cupholder, I peered into the truck bed and my fears evaporated. It was filled with maze supplies—extra stakes, rope, a toolbox, and what looked like replacement signs. This wasn’t some random vehicle. This belonged to someone who worked here.
The personalized license plate caught my eye as I walked around to the back. FOWLER, it read. That was Marc’s last name.
My heart started beating faster, and it had nothing to do with fear this time. If this was Marc’s truck, then he was heresomewhere, probably doing one of those security checks he’d mentioned.
I should get back in my vehicle and leave. That would be the smart thing to do. Instead, I found myself walking toward the maze entrance.
The moon was nearly full, casting everything in a silver light that made the corn stalks look like they were glowing. I could hear the rustle of leaves in the evening breeze, and somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of footsteps.
Marc was definitely in there.
I should call out, let him know I was here. But something stopped me. Maybe it was the magic of the moonlight, or maybe it was the way my pulse quickened at the thought of seeing him again, but I found myself stepping into the maze without making a sound.
The pathways looked completely different at night. Mysterious. Almost romantic, if I was being honest. I moved carefully, following the main path I remembered from earlier, when we’d been searching for Oliver. I turned a corner and?—
“Oof!”
I slammed directly into a solid wall of muscle, strong arms automatically wrapping around me to steady me. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought it might be a stranger, but then I caught that familiar scent of sawdust and pine, and I knew.
Marc.
“Cecelia?” His voice was rough with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
I looked up at him, and in the moonlight, he was like something out of a dream. His hair was mussed, and there was a heat in those storm-gray eyes that made my breath catch.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I whispered, suddenly very aware that his arms were still around me, that my hands were pressed againsthis chest, that I could feel the steady beat of his heart under my palms.
“So you came to my maze.”
The way he said “my maze” sent a shiver through me. There was something possessive about it that should have bothered me but didn’t.
“I saw your truck. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
We stared at each other for a long moment, the air between us crackling with tension. I could feel the heat of his body through his shirt, could see the way his gaze kept dropping to my lips.
When I opened my mouth to say something—anything to break the spell—he shook his head slightly. “Don’t. Don’t talk. Not yet.”
And then his mouth was on mine.
The kiss was everything I’d imagined and more. Soft at first, tentative, giving me a chance to pull away. But when I melted against him instead and my arms wound around his neck, he deepened it, and I felt like I might die from the intensity of it.
I’d been kissed before, but never like this. Never with this much heat, this much need. My entire body came alive under his touch, every nerve ending singing.
His hands tangled in my hair, and I heard myself make a soft sound that should have embarrassed me but didn’t. Nothing had ever felt this right, this perfect. When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard, I looked up at him with wonder.
“Cecelia,” he said, and my name sounded like a prayer on his lips.
“I know,” I whispered, even though I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to.
His hands found the hem of my T-shirt, and I knew I should stop this, should think about what I was doing. But when helooked at me with those stormy eyes, asking permission without words, all rational thought fled.
I nodded. But then, as his warm hands skimmed across my skin, reality crashed back in.
“Wait,” I said, my hands covering his. “Marc, wait.”
He stilled immediately, his eyes searching my face with concern. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”
“No, it’s not that.” I took a shaky breath, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s just…I’ve never…I mean, I haven’t…”
