Page 303 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
Dean growls, and I hear him mutter, “I love this woman.”
Harper jerks left, and I mirror her.
The guys scramble to keep up, or they’re giving us a head start. Either way, it’s fun. The maze twists sharply, dark, and hay flies as we skid around corners.
Every step is a gamble.
Then—BAM!
We crash straight into something.
Hay scratches my hands. My face hits rough burlap. I spring backward, and my back smacks the ground with all my weight behind. The sting is instant. My body screams in protest.
“Ahhh!” Harper lands beside me, rolling over the ground.
My fingers slide over dirt and loose hay as I glance at the thing hovering above us like a monster. It’s a scarecrow.
“You good down there?” Dean’s voice floats above us, smug and just a little too amused.
Harper groans. “I think my butt is broken.”
“Such a brave little adventurer, taken out by Stan the Hay Man.”
“You could help me.” Harper raises her arms to Dean.
“I could.” He crouches beside her. “But I’m still processing the part where you charged into the darkness like some hay maze hero and got clotheslined by a stuffed shirt. A pile of sticks in jeans.”
“He came out of nowhere,” she groans.
His grin is wide. “And he walks away unscathed, while you’re over here like a turtle on its back.”
She scowls at him in the dim light. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I am.”
“Enough to waste time and lose?”
“We’re not losing.” He hoists her up. “But you’re not leading.
I shove some hay out of my face when Hart stands above me. “Hi there.”
I let my head fall back on the ground. “Hi.”
“Whatcha doing down there?”
I smile, but I doubt he can see it. “Resting.”
“Oh yeah?”
“My butt hurts,” I admit.
“Your pride, too, I’m guessing.”
I glare at him.
“Want help up?” He offers his hand. “Or do you need another moment to process your loss to a scarecrow?”
I slip my hand in the warmth of his palm, and his fingers curl around mine. He pulls me up slowly until my body is against his.
