Page 28 of Harvest Maze

Under all that paint, I knew she was blushing. “Well, alright then, what are we eating?” She beamed.

I cocked my head to the side. “Eating?”

“Yeah! We conquered the maze. It’s time for a treat.” Ivry led me past the hay bale castle, the corn pit, and around the kid tractor area that was closed for the night.

My fingers still laced through hers, I let her drag me where she willed. Right up to the blinking, brightly painted food trucks. This crap wasn’t part of my diet, but it was a staple to the American scene, so I was eager to try something.

“Gosh, I’m starving!” Ivry bounded on her toes. “I told myself I would earn a candy apple for the corn maze, but now I’m thinking I need something solid. Maybe a corndog. Ooh! Mini doughnuts, and they’re even fall flavored!”

I slid into line, ready to try something deep-fried and sweet. That seemed like a good choice. Something she would like.

“What’s a funnel cake?” I peered at the board.

Ivry gasped. “What the heck, boy? You’ve never had a funnel cake?”

“No. Are they good?” I could never get tired of seeing her expressions.

“Yeah, divine.” She peered at the choices. “What sauce do you want?”

There were more than one? “All of them.”

Ivry laughed, a carefree, delicious sound. But it was cut off when she saw a man in a three-piece suit lounging at the end of the food truck.

“Oh, snap,” she hissed.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. “Just order.”

“He’s coming over!”

“Want me to punch him?” I asked with a smirk.

Her eyes went wide. It made the decorative skull painted on her face come alive. “Don’t! There’s, um, something you need to know about my cousin.”

I bent and brushed my lips over her ear. “I already know.”

Ivry stiffened. “You do?”

It was our turn to order. Ivry was so flustered she ended up getting three corndogs, two funnel cakes, and forgot her candied apple.

“One of those apples,” I jumped in to add.

She gave me a grateful smile.

“Lucianus Ravello is the local don,” I whispered before flicking my tongue on the shell of her ear.

Ivry squeaked, because Lucian stopped next to us. I straightened, keeping both hands on Ivry’s shoulders. I looked the boss of bosses up and down. He owed his life to this woman. Which meant he was going to be respectful, or I would put him in his place.

“Look at you, Ives. On a date?” he said, a soft sneer lacing his words.

Ivry paid for the food and then shuffled away from the window. I stayed glued to her back.

“Yeah, Demyan is my….”

“Boyfriend,” I supplied. And I only used that intermediary word, because I hadn’t gone ring shopping yet.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “I need to talk to you, Ivry.”

“I’m busy,” she gritted out.