Page 32 of Pumpkin Patch Pack
“Sure, I’d be happy to help.”
He nods, gathering his tools.
I manage to retrieve my scarf after a brief wrestling match that leaves me a little breathless and Maple looking entirely too pleased with herself.
Liam retrieves a small step ladder from a nearby shed, and we make our way to the corn maze, Maple trotting alongside us like she’s been invited to a very important meeting.
I follow him through the twisting paths of corn stalks, towering walls on either side of us. The path is littered withleaves that crunch beneath our boots as we walk. The maze is impressive, tall enough that you can’t see over the top, with twists and turns that would genuinely challenge visitors.
“Did you design this?” I ask, trying not to notice how the path forces us to walk closer together.
“Theo did the layout,” Liam replies. “I just helped build it.”
We turn a corner, and I see the problem immediately. A string of lights has come loose from the top of the wooden beams, dangling across the path.
“You can stand here,” Liam says, positioning the step ladder beneath the drooping lights. Just hold the strand up while I nail them back.”
I eye the three-step ladder dubiously. The double dose of suppressants has left me slightly dizzy, but it’s not too high.
I should be fine.
I tentatively climb the ladder. It’s only three steps, but from this vantage point, I can see over some of the corn stalks. I reach for the lights, lifting them to where Liam has instructed as he nails them back into place.
“Almost finished,” Liam says, stretching to hammer the last nail.
There’s a determined bleat from below, and I look down to see Maple eyeing the step ladder.
“Maple, no—” I start, but it’s too late.
Maple launches herself up the ladder, apparently determined to join me, but there isn’t enough room for both of us.
“Shit!” I yelp as I shift to accommodate her, but my foot slips off the edge of the step.
In desperation, I grab the string of lights, thinking they might stabilize me. Instead, they tear free from the freshly placed nails, and suddenly I’m swinging through the air like some omega Tarzan.
“Emma!” Liam drops his hammer and lunges to catch me.
For one glorious second, I’m airborne, suspended by nothing but Christmas lights and pure panic.
Then gravity remembers I exist.
I crash directly into Liam’s chest; the momentum sends us both tumbling to the ground. We land with a heavy thud, with me entirely sprawled on top of him, my face inches from his. His arms instinctively wrap around me, breaking my fall but trapping me against the hard planes of his body.
“Oof,” he grunts, his eyes wide with surprise.
Time freezes as we stare at each other.
I’m acutely aware of every point where our bodies connect: my chest against his, my hips aligned with his, his large hands splayed across my back. His woodsy bourbon scent engulfs me, more potent than ever at this proximity. It fills my lungs with each shaky breath, making my head spin worse than any suppressant side effect.
Before I can process the riot of sensations, a triumphant bleat and a significant weight land squarely on my back, driving me even more firmly against Liam.
I gasp as Maple settles herself comfortably on top of me, looking immensely pleased with her new perch and apparently deciding that this pile of humans makes an excellent resting spot.
Then I feel the deep rumble of Liam’s laughter vibrating through his chest, where I’m pressed against him. The sound is so unexpected, and despite being sandwiched between an alpha and a goat, I laugh too.
“Your face,” he manages between laughs. “When you were swinging—”
“I was terrified!” I protest, but I’m laughing too hard to sound indignant. “I thought I was going to die by Christmas lights!”
