“The hot springs,” he says as casually as though we’ve just pulled up to a grocery store.

I squint out my window, looking for . . . well, I don’t really know what I’m looking for. I’ve never been to a hot spring before, but from my understanding, they’re usually surrounded by fancy hotels and spas. Outside my window, all I see is miles and miles of mountains and rocky paths through the woods.

“Don’t hot springs usually have, like, resorts built around them?”

“Those are the hot springs that the tourists know about.” He gives me a coy smile and a wink, then throws open the passenger door. “The best ones are kept a secret unless you’re local.”

My heart does a little kick in my chest. If I wasn’t feeling like a Lost Havenite earlier, I sure am now.

I follow Logan along one of the rocky trails, ducking beneath branches and occasionally veering from the trail markers. He’s right about one thing—this is definitely the kind of place that only a local would know about. No one from out of town would ever think to go off trail like this.

After a short but tiring hike, the thick rows of pine trees give way to a clearing of rocks and determined wildflowers peeking through the mud and snow. Right in the middle, the hot spring is clouded by its own steam, giving off an air of mystery.

“This is gorgeous,” I whisper, taking in our surroundings.

I’ve never been anywhere even marginally similar to this. A faint smell of sulfur hangs in the air, and I realize it must be from the trace minerals. Even the rocks surrounding the water are slightly calcified.

“Are we getting in?” I ask.

“I sure am. You’ll like it, come on.”

Logan toes off his boots, then peels out of his jacket and sweatshirt until he’s down to nothing but his faded gray boxers.

Try as I may to keep from staring, my gaze momentarily dips to his deliciously chiseled abs and the tempting bulge beneath his waistband. He may be a rookie, but this man has the body of an all-star. The show doesn’t last long, though, because soon he’s climbing over the rocks and sinking into the hot spring, shuddering at the drastic change in temperature.

“C’mon.” He beckons me in with a coy smile. “The water’s fine.”

Yeah, and so is the man in it.

To my surprise, it feels almost too normal to be stripping down in front of him. I untie my boots, then hang my coat over a tree branch, followed by my sweater and my jeans. Thank God I didn’t wear a thong today, or worse yet, granny panties. In a sensible black bra and matching cotton underwear, I can almost pretend I’m in a bikini.