Page 306 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
“Hart, the strict rule-follower, didn’t take you as a cheater,” Dean says as Hart crouches in front of me.
“They didn’t give us rules.” Hart’s hands slide around the backs of my thighs: warm, firm, confident. “And I’m not a cheater. Consider this a rules-adjacent, critical-thinking strategy.”
“Alright. I like your strategy. Climb on, baby.” Dean lowers himself for Harper to climb on, but I barely notice when all I can feel is the pads of his fingers pressing into my skin through the denim.
Not rushing.
Not fumbling.
“Just jump, I’ve got you.” The way he says he’s got me burns into the deepest part of my soul.
He does have me.
He’ll always have me.
“Okay. One, two—”
I jump a little, and he lifts me like it’s nothing. His hands steady on my thighs as I rise above the maze, high and balanced, legs slipping naturally over his chest. His shoulders are solid, and his body heat is everywhere.
His hands glide up, hooking behind my knees. I grab the sides of his head for balance, his scruff tickling my palms.
“You good?” His voice vibrates straight through my thighs and right into my spine.
I can’t even think straight. “Yep,” I manage, my voice too high. “Totally good. All great up here.”
He chuckles; hands still wrapped around the backs of my legs.
Lord, I could live here.
Just a girl. On a guy. In a maze.
He starts walking. Every step rocks me gently. Every step, I feel him more. And I never want to get down.
“Where am I headed?” he asks.
It takes me a second to focus on the task I was given, but I scan above the hay bales. “Go left at the next fork.”
“She’s right.” Harper is at my level next to me on Dean’s shoulders.
Hart starts marching. Dean follows.
Right.
Quick left.
We push forward without pause. I lift myself higher, trying to see over the bales, but the taller ones ahead make it harder to spot anything clearly.
I tap his shoulder. “Left.”
He takes it, and we’re closer now. Every step forward is in the right direction. Then the path straightens, long, and I see the exit just ahead, wide and waiting.
“There!” Harper points.
The guys crouch and we slide off.
Hart’s hands linger on my waist, and when I hit the ground, I look up at him.
“You good?” His voice is soft now.
