Page 24 of Second Chance Spring in Paradise

When the smoke clears, and there are no more sparks, he points to a sleeping bag. “You know how to use one of those things, city girl?”

I raise an eyebrow. “I think I can figure it out.”

I turn to climb into my sleeping bag, but Rowdy grabs my hand and pulls me back. His arm wraps around me and suddenly we are inches apart.

“You’re right.” He nuzzles his nose over mine and lays a gentle kiss on my lips. “There’s more than one way to make a s’more.”

“There’s more than one way to do a lot of things.” I return his grazing kiss.

“I think we could teach each other a lot about how to do things different.” His kisses grow harder, more intense, and exploratory. But still cautious. I know Rowdy won’t go any further than kissing me tonight.

We pull apart, and with my hands still around his neck, I let out a happy sigh. “Three days ago, I couldn’t have imagined staying in Paradise more than a few weeks. You keep kissing me like that, and I’ll never want to leave.”

“Three days ago, I couldn’t have imagined falling for a California girl who microwaves her s’mores. But I’m happy to oblige in convincing you to stay forever.” His words, as much as the kisses that follow, warm my whole body.

The way the waters at Second Chance Spring had.

And I know fate has brought me to this moment. It’s been driving me toward Rowdy ever since I stepped out of that spring to chase my clothes.

Epilogue

6 Months Later

The thing with Fate is that it’s more of a big picture kind of force. The details are up to us. Which is why I’m still living in LA.

I spent the summer in that little turquoise house and on the back of Rowdy’s motorcycle, but I had some things to take care of in LA, so Rowdy found a family looking to lease a house until spring.

And while long-distance isn’t ideal, being apart has allowed Rowdy and me to really get to know each other. We talk or FaceTime every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. And that’s when we’re not texting each other. He’s been to LA a couple times and didn’t hate it. I even got him to take off his boots and wade into the ocean.

Now I’m on my way back to Paradise. Rowdy said I had to come for the Christmas Festival the town puts on every year. He didn’t have to ask twice. Aunt D has described the festival to me at least a thousand times. When she was a little girl, the town put on a show at the Little Copenhagen’s community center, that included traditional Danish costumes and dances. She’d even shown me the dance she’d learned fifty years before.

Her descriptions of houses with candles glowing in all their windows and fresh-cut Christmas trees strung with big bulb lights and strings of cranberries and popcorn had enchanted me. And, of course, there was always a Santa with real reindeer.

As a child, I’d always wanted to go to Paradise at Christmas, just based on Aunt D’s stories of how magical it is. So I’m already giddy when my plane lands in Salt Lake City. That excitement only grows when I spot Rowdy waiting for me outside of security.

I rush to him and throw my arms around his neck. “You didn’t have to come inside.”

He hugs me tight, lifting me off the ground and turning in a slow circle. “I know, but I would have missed this.”

My feet touch the floor again, but then he kisses me, and I might as well be floating. I don’t feel anything but his lips pressed to mine and the shock of heat coursing through my body.

“I would have kissed you outside,” I say when we pull apart.

Rowdy shakes his head. “You would have jumped right into my truck as soon as the cold hit you.”

“How cold is it?” I lace my fingers through his as we walk toward the baggage carousel. “It was seventy-two when I left LA.”

He snorts. “Paradise is about that. Minus sixty degrees.”

I wince, which Rowdy doesn’t miss.

He steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling my neck. “Don’t worry. I promise to keep you warm.”

I smile.

I won’t move to Paradise until this coming summer, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was nervous about making such a big change. I’ve lived in California my whole life, always in a big city. I won’t miss the traffic and living in a small apartment or how expensive everything is. But I will miss the weather.

Once we have my bags, I pull out my big parka and gloves from my suitcase and put them on. Rowdy is wearing a light jacket and T-shirt, and his lip quirks into a grin as he watches me bundle up.

---