Page 4 of Mountain Man's Corn Maze Cutie
“Oliver. One of the children from the church group this morning. Taylor—their leader—she came back to my booth looking for him. He wandered off while she was buying more popcorn.” Her words came out in a rush, and I could see the guilt written all over her face. “They think he might have gone back into the maze alone.”
Fuck. A kid lost in my maze was my worst nightmare. I’d designed it to be challenging, but safe—provided kids didn’t wander around in there alone.
“How long has he been missing?” I asked, already heading toward the maze entrance.
“Twenty minutes, maybe thirty.” She was practically jogging to keep up with my longer strides. “Taylor’s been looking around the other booths, but she’s panicking.”
I could understand why. The maze covered nearly three acres, with pathways that twisted and doubled back on themselves. Even adults got turned around in there.
“Okay,” I said, my mind already shifting into tactical mode. “I know every inch of that maze. We’ll find him.”
“We?” she asked, slightly out of breath.
I stopped and looked down at her. “Unless you’ve got somewhere else to be.”
Something flickered in those green eyes of hers. “No, I want to help. I feel responsible.”
That hit me square in the chest. Most people would have washed their hands of the situation, but here she was, ready to trudge through a corn maze to find a kid she’d met once.
“Then let’s go,” I said.
The maze entrance loomed before us, the tall corn stalks creating natural walls that blocked out most of the late afternoon light. I grabbed two flashlights from the supply box I kept near the entrance.
“Stay close,” I told her, handing her one of the lights. “The pathways can be confusing if you don’t know the layout.”
“Oliver!” I called out as we entered the maze. “Oliver, can you hear me?”
Cecelia joined in. “Oliver! It’s Cecelia from the popcorn booth!”
We moved deeper into the maze, and I found myself hyper-aware of her presence beside me. Every time she brushed against my arm as we navigated the narrow pathways, every time she had to duck under a low-hanging stalk and I caught a glimpse of the curve of her ass, my body reacted like I was a fucking teenager.
Focus, Marc. There’s a lost kid in here.
“Maybe we should split up,” she suggested as we reached the first major intersection. “Cover more ground?”
“Absolutely not.” The words came out sharper than I intended. “The last thing I need is two people lost in here.”
She bristled at my tone. “I’m not an idiot. I can follow a path.”
“These aren’t just paths. They’re a designed tactical maze. There are dead ends, false routes, and sections that loop back on themselves. If you don’t know the pattern, you’ll be lost in ten minutes.”
“Oliver!” she called out again, ignoring my lecture. Then she stopped and cocked her head. “Did you hear that?”
I listened, straining to hear anything over the rustle of corn stalks in the evening breeze. Then I heard it—a faint sound coming from somewhere to our left.
“This way,” I said, leading her down a pathway that curved sharply to the right.
“Shouldn’t we go left? That’s where the sound came from.”
“Trust me,” I said, not slowing down. “The acoustics in here are deceiving. Sound bounces off the stalks in ways that make it seem like it’s coming from a different direction.”
She followed reluctantly, and I could practically feel the skepticism radiating off her. We walked in silence for a few minutes, the pathway narrow enough that she had to walk directly behind me. I could smell her perfume—something light and floral that made my cock twitch every time I caught a whiff of it.
“Marc,” she said softly, and the way my name sounded on her lips made me want to stop walking and kiss her like she’d never been kissed before.
“Yeah?”
“Are you sure we’re going the right way? It feels like we’re getting farther from where we heard him.”
