Page 33 of One Small Spark (Love in Sunshine #4)

“I endorse this.”

She stabs at a noodle on her plate. “I wish I could retire at thirty-two.”

“I hear that.” We can’t all be NFL heroes. Then again, all the broken bones and surgeries that finally made him give up the sport weren’t a breeze. “What would you do if you could?”

“Easy. I’d go to New Zealand.”

“Really?” I don’t know what I pictured her answer being, but I can see that for her.

“I’ve always wanted to go. They have so many gorgeous beaches, and they’re all so different.

One where the sand is littered with tiny little seashells you can dig your toes into.

Another one that’s all this thick, volcanic residue that’s so soft and spongy, it’s like you’re on another planet.

Classic beaches with palm trees and gentle surf.

And there are a bunch that have natural hot springs so you can dig your own hot tub right on the beach. ”

Her eyes are bright, her voice a little higher than usual as she describes it. I love her enthusiasm. I want to wrap this moment up like a gift to open again and again.

“Sounds kind of outdoorsy,” I point out.

“I maintain that sitting on a beach on a beautiful island country isn’t the same thing as riding a bike a hundred miles over a mountain or sleeping in a tent with bears.”

“If you say so. I’ve heard they have a few non-beachy things to do, too.”

She makes a sour face at me. “I’ve made it clear how I feel about doing things.”

I chuckle. “You’re right. It was wrong of me to suggest. It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“It’s at the top of my bucket list.”

“Why haven’t you taken a trip yet?” Not that it would be easy for everyone, but she’s obviously eager to go.

Her excitement deflates like a sad party balloon. “I planned to. It just didn’t work out.”

I wait, unsure if she’s going to tell me more. I want her to open up to me, but it’s not the kind of thing I can get by pushing. She would push right back.

“Hope and I were going to go after college,” she says.

“We saved up, had ideas for where we would stay and everything. But then Tess got pregnant with August, and I couldn’t justify a big vacation from the bakery when we were all adjusting to life with a newborn.

I was going to go when he got a little older, but then the diabetes stuff happened, and it felt selfish to take that much time for myself. ”

I want to tell her it’s not selfish to need time for herself, but for now, I listen.

She sighs, drawing invisible circles on the wooden tabletop.

“Now everything’s settled with August, and we finally have more help at the bakery.

I could get the time off. But everybody’s paired up.

A girls’ night is one thing, but a girls’ vacation across the ocean?

Not happening. I could go alone, but I’d rather be with a friend. ”

Offering to take her to New Zealand sits on the tip of my tongue. I wouldn’t even care if the only thing I saw there was Wren in a swimsuit on endless beaches.

Actually, that’s starting to sound like the ideal itinerary for any trip .

It’s probably too soon to start planning international vacations together. Even if I’m ready to grab my passport and board a plane with her at my side. But I might have an acceptable compromise.

“Have you been to any of the hot springs around here?” I ask.

She wrinkles her nose again. “You mean the one at the commune farther up the canyon? Isn’t that a nudist colony?”

“You can visit the hot spring at the commune without being a nudist.”

“So you’ve been.”

“Yes.”

“Were you naked?”

“You’re fixated on my naked body, Krause.” Never change.

“I’m worried about everyone else’s retinas getting seared away by the image.” The way she’s watching me, I don’t think she’s too concerned about her own eyesight.

“Forget the commune. I want to take you to one of the other hot springs a short drive away from here.” I heave out a sigh. “But for the record, all of the hot springs are clothing-optional.”

She shoots me a deeply unimpressed stare. “Trying to get me undressed on our first date is not a good look.”

“ We would wear swimsuits. Most people do.” I don’t want to drill down to percentages, but “most” seems pretty accurate from my visits.

“But some just let it all hang out?” She cringes, no doubt imagining the worst. “Are they our age? Older? Is it a deeply wrinkly time out there? Or are they muscular and overly tanned and really proud of everything?”

Honestly, I’ve seen some things. But a few awkward experiences aren’t enough to make me give up on all the good ones.

“You’re missing the point. The hot spring I want to take you to is a series of small rock pools in the middle of the forest. They range from hot tub temps down to bathwater. It’s not the same as digging one on a beach, but it’s a close second.”

“People just put their naked butts on the rocks, though? Is that sanitary?”

“Wren.” It’s a warning as much as a plea. “I’m trying not to think about anybody’s naked butts right now.”

Her mouth tips up into a wicked smirk. “Not anybody’s?”

This woman will be the death of me. At least I’ll go out doing what I love.

“A team of volunteers cleans the hot springs regularly.”

She cringes. “It’s outside, though.”

“Like most hot springs are.”

“What are the beneficial properties of this hot spring?”

“What?”

“You know. Does it have special vitamins and minerals in it? Does it cure wounds and heal bug bites? Does it have any mystical legends surrounding it?”

“No. Well.” I lean forward a touch. “There is one.”

She mirrors me. “What is it?”

“There’s a legend that says anybody who enters the hot spring with pure intentions will fall irrevocably in love with their companion.”

She blows a raspberry. “Pass.”

I lean back against the booth. “I tried.”

She stares me down, her mouth twitching. I just wait. “Okay, fine. It sounds like fun.”

Inside, I’m celebrating with bottle rockets and firecrackers. I try to keep it to a serene smile on the outside, but I’m well aware what a victory this is.

Even before factoring in Wren in a swimsuit.

She tilts her face closer, looking stern. “But if we get there and it’s a bunch of naked old men, I’m out.”

“Agreed.”