Page 13 of Mountain Man's Corn Maze Cutie
“But you what?”
I took a deep breath. “But I think I’m falling in love with you.”
The smile that spread across his face was like sunshine breaking through clouds. “Good,” he said. “Because I’ve been in love with you since the moment you stood up to me yesterday about your ‘crap’ popcorn.”
I laughed, feeling lighter than I had all morning. “It’s not crap.”
“No.” He brought my hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to my knuckles. “It’s not. It’s perfect. Just like you.”
“So what happens now?” I asked.
“Now?” He stood up, but didn’t let go of my hand. “Now you finish this festival and blow everyone away with your amazing popcorn. Then you come home with me.”
“Home?”
“To Wildwood Valley. To me.” His voice was soft but certain. “If you want to.”
I thought about my little apartment back home, my job at the clothing store, the life I’d built that suddenly seemed small and colorless compared to this.
“What about my store?” I asked. “My other job?”
“Bring your business here. Set up shop. Wildwood Valley could use a good popcorn place.” He grinned. “And I could use a good woman.”
“Just good?” I asked.
“The best.” He leaned down to kiss me softly, right there in front of everyone. “The only one I’ll ever want.”
When we broke apart, I heard Calliope cheering from her booth, and a few other vendors applauded. Instead of embarrassment, I felt nothing but joy.
“Is that a yes?” Marc asked.
I looked around at the festival, at the kind faces of locals and fellow vendors, at the man who’d turned my world upside down in the best possible way.
“That’s a yes,” I said. “That’s a hell yes.”
EPILOGUE
CECELIA
Time alone was rare these days. Now that the kids were in elementary school, it was easier, but still, just sitting in front of the fire alone had me doing a full-body sigh. Only one thing was missing.
My husband of ten years appeared soon enough, sliding through the corn stalks to our little secret hideaway. It wasn’t so secret anymore—plenty of people knew about it. Marc had even lit this campfire and sold s’more ingredients at a booth at the entrance to the corn maze.
But right now, on a random Tuesday night at the very end of the season, nobody was bothering us. Especially since an unseasonable late October chill had settled into the area early, effectively killing business for the Harvest Market, which had now become a six-week-long, weekends-only festival called Harvest Fest.
“I thought I’d find you here,” he said.
“I guess you didn’t check your phone.” I smiled without taking my eyes off the fire. “I sent you a message.”
Join me. That was the full message. Immediately afterward, I’d sent a picture of the fire. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.
“I just talked to Blade,” Marc said. “The kids are all settled down for the night.”
Blade and Sienna had boys around our son’s age. These days, the kids spent almost every weekend together. They’d become fast friends, and we’d just started swapping off parenting duties on weekends, giving each couple some alone time. This was our night off.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, coming around to the chair next to me.
“You better.”
