Page 96 of One Small Spark
He isprowling, and some hidden part of me is here for it. The rest of me really doesn’t want to take that smack.
“Stop.” It’s almost a shriek. “You don’t want me to run into the woods and break my ankle all because you needed to make things even, do you?”
“Then don’t run.”
But running’s all I know how to do.
He moves closer, the heat in his gaze almost crackling between us. I don’t take off tearing into the wilderness, but only because I don’t know what threats lurk in the forest. At least withthisdangerous creature, I have some idea of what hehas in mind.
He leans in and presses a soft kiss to my mouth. Just before he pulls away, he says, “I’ll let you anticipate it.”
Then, he smirks and resumes his trek through the trees like an absolute beast. He knows I won’t be able to think about anything but the oncoming butt-smack now.
Dread and hope have never coiled so tightly together.
Eventually, we reach a rustic wooden shelter. The sloped roof is overgrown with moss, and the picnic table beneath it is covered in graffiti and carvings. Shepherd moves past it to a railing overlooking something.
“I guess we’re here.” I can’t see anything from where I’m standing, but there are other signs. I fan the air in front of my nose.
I’ve learned from my research on hot water beaches in New Zealand that the smell of sulfur is a given, but I’ve never experiencedit before. The smell hangs in the air like a skunk just carelessly paraded through. It’s not overpowering, but it’s not one of the qualities I’m looking for in a pleasant afternoon, either.
“That’s being outdoorsy for you,” I say. “It stinks.”
Shepherd laughs and gestures for me to join him. I pick my way closer and have to take in a big breath of sulfur when I get there.
We’re at the top of a series of pools spread out in front of us like a giant step ladder. They’re formed by boulders, with waterfalls tumbling from one pool down to the next. The first few are pretty big, funneling into smaller and smaller pools before it reverts into a natural stream at the very bottom.
The water is surprisingly blue. Surprisingly tempting, too, in spite of the smell and the cold.
“It’s so pretty.”
Shepherd grins at me. “Then you’re still in?”
I can’t believe it, but yes. “I’m still in.”
We climb down wooden steps to a landing by the first pool. A trio of people float there, ignoring us as they talk together. I guess pretending nobody else exists comes in handy when naked people enter the mix. From here, the stone steps become less uniform as they carry from ledge to ledge. They’re also wet from all the steam in the air, and there’s no railing.
Shepherd takes my hand. “It can get slippery.”
He leads us down to one of the smaller pools, passing a few more people as we go. So far, everybody’s wearing swimsuits. Not that I’m trying to snoop on people’s soaks, but it seems like the alternative would be pretty obvious.
“I’m starting to think you were joking about the nudity thing,” I say.
“Count yourself lucky.” He pauses to look at me over his shoulder, his dark eyes alight with a challenge. “Unless you were hoping to see something.”
“You’re in prime butt-smacking position, sir.”
His smirk is the thing of legend. “Can’t keep your hands off me.”
Ugh. He’s not wrong.
He finally stops and lays out a picnic blanket with a waterproof side before arranging our bags on top. Then he starts unbuttoning his shirt.
I swallow hard, tracking his progress. “We just go for it now?”
He told me there’s no changing rooms out here, so I’ve got my swimsuit on underneath my sweats. Back in his truck, I brought a full set of clothes for when we get back to his cabin. But right now, that’s not doing me any good.
Especially when he’s peeling off his flannel jacket to reveal the gray T-shirt beneath that’s got a death grip on his shoulders.
