Setting Off Sparks

Chapter 2-2

It had happened a few weeks ago, when she’d first returned to Jupiter Point. She’d decided the town would be a good place to stay off the radar. She knew the area because she’d spent all the past summer at the Breton lookout tower volunteering for the Forest Service—but hiding out, really. For six months, she’d been mostly alone in the remote wilderness looking for smoke that would indicate a wildfire. She’d loved every quiet, healing minute in that tower.

So the first thing she did when she got back to town was hike out to Breton, which wasn’t staffed in the winter. But instead of the peace and quiet she’d expected, she’d stumbled onto an engagement party. Twinkle lights lit up the observation room, some of them spelling the words “Bri and Rollo 4 Ever.” Brianna, the bride-to-be, had invited her to stay, so she’d accepted a glass of champagne and some cheese and crackers.

And then someone had planted himself in front of her. Someone extremely good-looking—and extensively scarred on one side of his face, from jaw to cheekbone. Burn scars, she knew from experience. Wide shoulders, lean build, thick dark hair, smoldering brown eyes with ridiculously long eyelashes—the entire package was breathtaking. And he was staring at her as if he never wanted to stop.

It made her so uncomfortable, she nearly swallowed a cube of cheese. She didn’t want attention. Not even from an attractive man.

“So, do you come here often?” He winced as soon as he asked the clichéd question. “Don’t answer that. What I mean is, I think I saw a picture of you on that corkboard.”

He waved in the direction of the kitchenette where she’d cooked her meals last summer.

She nodded, making a mental note to confiscate that photo as soon as possible. She hadn’t known it was there.

“So, I figure you’ve been here before. Not that I’m stalking you or anything. I didn’t know you’d be here. I mean, I kind of hoped you would be.” He clawed one hand through his dark hair, leaving it romantically tousled. With a pained—but charming—smile, he finished with, “I’m making a mess out of this, aren’t I?”

She wrinkled her forehead, still not really getting it. “A mess of what, exactly?”

“Let me try again. I hiked out here a couple months ago with some friends. I saw that photo, which I now know is you, and I thought, ‘I hope I meet that woman someday.’ And here you are. Sounds like destiny to me.”

“Destiny?” She finished her cheese and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Sorry, I’m not much of a believer. I put destiny in the same category as cheesy pick-up lines.”

“Are you a magician?”

“Excuse me?”

“Every time I look at you, everyone else disappears.” He looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him instead. “That’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard. It’s actually an insult to cheese.”

He laughed. “Did you read Dr. Seuss as a kid?”

“What?”

“Because green eggs and damn.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, raking her with an exaggerated, appreciative survey.

Finally, she laughed. It was an involuntary, incredulous laugh, but still. “Okay, you got me. That is the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh, I’ve got more. I have an extensive collection.”

Honestly, she was surprised he needed pick-up lines. A guy like him, with his looks and charm, could probably pick up a woman with half a wink of one eye. “Strange thing to collect.”

“Yes, well, I grew up in LA.” He gave her that flashing, groove-in-the-cheek smile again. “Misspent youth on Sunset Boulevard. How about you? Where are you from? I’m Finn Abrams, by the way.”

“Well, Finn, I don’t think we’ve reached the sharing-life-stories phase, sorry.”

“I think I heard a ‘yet’ in there. We’re not at that phase yet. But I know a good way to get there. So how about we back up and start again. Will you have dinner with me, mystery tower woman?”

She shook her head, bewildered by how quickly the conversation had morphed so it felt like she actually knew this stranger. Like she wanted to know him. Wanted to know how he’d gotten the scars, why pain still lurked behind his eyes. How he could still be so charming, despite such a recent—to her expert eye—trauma.

But she had to stay cautious. And she didn’t go for the charming type anyway.

“We’re in a tower in the middle of the wilderness. What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Leave it to me. We’ll gorge on cheese and crackers and drink champagne under the stars.”

Everything about him was so warm, so inviting, so enticing.

So not happening. “It’s January.”

He c****d his head at her. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

She gaped at him.

“Because I can walk by again.” Mischief glittered in his dark eyes.

She snatched her backpack off the floor. This engagement party was nice and all—Rollo and Brianna seemed great— but this was crazy. “Let’s start over completely, shall we?”

“Good idea.”

“We’ll back up to the part where you’re celebrating your friends’ engagement and I’m about to walk in.” She stepped backwards, pulled the door open, and slipped out.

“Wait. Don’t leave. Just tell me your—” he called through the door, before she shut it tight.

She leaned against it, torn between laughing and wanting to run back in. It felt like there was a magnet behind that door, drawing her back into life and sparkling fun and bright possibility.

Sparks with a stranger—definitely not on her agenda.

She ran down the staircase, back to the trail, starlight illuminating the path. Forget that sexy, scarred charmer. She’d never see him again anyway.

Yeah, about that…

Lisa whipped her head around to look outside. The first thing she saw was the back of a photographer side-stepping along the sidewalk as he snapped photos. When he stepped out of her line of sight, she finally got a glimpse of the glamorous couple strolling arm-in-arm down Constellation Way. The very same couple she’d just been reading about. And the same man she’d met at the tower.

“It’s Annika Poole,” Mrs. Murphy was saying. “Molly, I can’t believe an actual celebrity is coming to Evie’s wedding.”

Across the room, Molly sniffed. “Finn can do much better, in my opinion.”

“With those scars?” Mrs. Murphy shook her head and hmphed. “It’s a shame, it really is.”

“Stop that.” Molly’s body was trembling. She always shook to some extent, but when she was upset it got worse. Lisa pulled her gaze away from the couple and hurried to her side. “I adore Finn. He’s a sweet boy. He brings me flowers when he visits.”

Sweet boy? Lisa nearly snorted out loud at that description. During her encounter with Finn Abrams, the phrase “sweet boy” had never crossed her mind. She’d pegged him as the flirtatious player type.

“And he’s still very handsome,” Molly added.

“Obviously, you’re not the only one who thinks so,” Lisa said dryly. “I spy a movie star on his arm.” She glanced at Annie, who had pulled the scissors away from Molly’s head of flyaway white hair. “How’s the haircut coming?”

“Almost done. And Mrs. McGraw, I absolutely agree with you. He’s still a hottie in my book. You don’t have to worry about Finn Abrams. He’s a charmer.”

Lisa snuck another glance at the street outside. Annika had stopped to take a call and was speaking heatedly into her cell phone. Her other arm was wrapped tightly around Finn’s elbow. Wearing a stocking cap, a woodsy brown sweater and trousers, with both hands in his pockets, he looked casual and mouthwatering and…bored.

Huh. He definitely hadn’t looked bored when he’d flirted with her back at the Breton tower.