Page 5 of Christmas in Paradise

“Shut up.” I laugh. “You donotplay with electricity and have the last name Sparks.”

He turns right and points to a bank of old brick buildings. The lowest one hasSparks Electricat the topin block letters and a van parked in front with the same name scrawled across the side.

"Sebastian Sparks." I say the name more to myself than to him, letting the syllables roll softly off my tongue.

I like it. It fits. Sparks is the verb I’d use for what Sebastian has done to me from the minute I locked eyes with him.

“Anything else you want to know?” he asks as we pass his business, hugging the side of the highway leading out of Paradise.

“Where are you taking me?”

“A hidden hot spring I know. Some friends are heading up there.” He reaches down to scratch his leg, brushing my bare thigh where my dress has slipped up. “If you’re up for it.”

“As long as you’ve got a swimming suit on underyourclothes.”

Sebastian lets out a short, low laugh. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

Since we were just at the lake, I’m fairly sure he knows I’ve got a suit on under my dress. Jet-skiing and wakeboarding were options at the party, just not options that interested me.

But I’ll keep up the game with him. Playing carefully because I’m not the naïve teenager I once was.

The throaty excitement in his voice sends up a flag that, a few years ago I would have missed. It’s not quite red, but definitely an orange-ish shade.

Heavy flirting is one thing, but Sebastian and I need to be on the same page—my page. The page where nothing more than flirting happens.

Okay, and maybe some kissing.

But that’s it. I’ve got Charly to think about.

“Two piece, striped, full-cheek coverage.” I loosen my grip around his waist and thighs. “You?”

“These will have to do.” He tugs at the hem of his shorts, and I let out my breath. Same page, even if I can’t help but notice the outline of his thigh muscles under his shorts.

Sebastian isn’t as tall as Adam, or Adam’s twin brother Zach, and not even close to their brother Bear’s size, but he’s got just as many muscles as they do. Which is a lot. Put the three Thomsen brothers and Sebastian in a room and you basically have a human Costco. Everything is in bulk.

Against my better judgement I say yes to the hidden spring.

Twenty minutes later, after pedaling (with the help of the motor) up a mountain—a literal mountain—we pull into a turnout. Sebastian slides off the bike, then helps me off.

“It’s just up there.” He points to a group of trees with the thinnest of dirt tracks running through the center of them.

“That’s a trail?”

“Mostly.” Sebastian locks the bike to a guardrail, then takes my hand. He doesn’t let go as we walk toward the trail. “It looks sketchy from here, but I promise it will be worth the hike.”

My eyes drop to my thin-soled, strappy, not-made-for-hiking sandals. Sebastian’s gaze follows.

“It’s an easy hike once we get past those trees.” Then he squats in front of me. “Climb on. I’ll carry you through the first bit.”

I stare at his back, wondering if he’s serious.

For the past three years, I’ve been the one carrying Charly, taking care of everything. I don’t regret anything, but along with earning money, this summer in Paradise is supposed to be about me finding who I am and what I want to be.

And right now, I decide, I want to be carried.

It’s after ten o’clock when Sebastian pulls up to Evie’s. The moon is full, my dress is damp from my wet bikini, and there’s a chill in the air.

“That was fun.” I shiver and slide from the back of the bike. “Thanks.”

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