The Tenderness of Thieves (24 page)

H
ANDEL MADE IT TO
the spot where I was hanging out with my girls a little after six.

“Heya,” he called up to me where I sat, high on the lifeguard chair, like some queen of the town beach. I’d just come out of the water, and my hair and bathing suit were still wet.

“Hi,” I called down to him, feeling shy. “You’re earlier than I expected.”

He grinned. “I was excited for the fireworks.”

Every year on the Fourth of July, Michaela, Tammy, and I staked out one of the lifeguard chairs dotting the beach. At five o’clock, when they got off duty, we were in wait, ready with towels thrown over our arms, a cooler full of snacks and soda, some regular, some mixed with rum, armed with sweaters in our bags in case the air became chilly once the sun went down. Then we’d take turns occupying our chair until the fireworks started.

“So it was the show that enticed you?” I asked, flirty, taking in the way Handel’s long hair framed his tanned skin, all rugged boy features, the memory of his muscled arms and legs under that T-shirt and jeans making me blush.

“Of course.” Handel was smirking. He grabbed my ankle and held it. Stared up at me. Ran a finger along the ticklish, tender skin underneath the bone. “What else could it be?”

“Are you coming up or what?” I asked, the blush deepening.

“Now I am.” He released his hand. “I was waiting for my official invitation.”

I smiled and nodded. Bit my lip as I watched him grip one of the driftwood slats below, its white paint peeling off from the salty ocean air. He hoisted himself up quickly, and before I knew it, he was sitting next to me.

“So this is the place to be tonight,” he said.

“It is, if I’m here,” I said, confident even as I couldn’t quite bring myself to look at Handel straight in the eyes.

“Oh really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’ll have to agree with that.”

I glanced over at him quickly. Grinned a little. “That’s a smart decision.”

Handel let his fingers come to rest on my bare knee, his touch light. Casual. “Did you enjoy your swim?”

“I did. The waves are great.”

He looked me up and down. “I’ve seen that bathing suit before.”

“Oh?” I acted like I was surprised. I had on the same bikini from the day when Handel first spoke to me. I’d worn it on purpose. I wanted to know if he might recognize it.

Handel let his fingers wander to the tie closest to him, the one at my left hip, and he traced the loops of the bow. “How could I forget?”

It was hard to breathe. “I didn’t, either,” I admitted. Looked at him directly.

“You did this to me on purpose, didn’t you.”

I smiled. Laughed. “Maybe.”

Just then, a chorus of loud “Hello, Jane”s and “Hello, Handel”s came from down the beach. Tammy, Michaela, and Bridget were returning from their swim, warning us of their approach.

“Are we interrupting something, or is it safe to come closer?” Tammy called to us.

I rolled my eyes. “Just get over here.”

“Hi, Handel,” Bridget dripped, all knowing.

“Hi, Bridget,” he said back casually.

I hoped he missed the meaning in her tone. I didn’t want Handel to think I ran straight to my friends to tell them all the details of our night together, even though that’s exactly what happened. At least with Bridget. Today, during our long afternoon at the beach, I filled in Michaela about the evening’s events, though with more restraint than with Bridget so as to better withstand her disapproval. With Tammy I could barely get a word in edgewise, she was so full of opinions she simply had to share once she’d heard the news.

“Miles and company will be here any minute,” Michaela said, looking from me to Handel and back to me again from where she stood below us on the sand.

I glared at her. “Thanks for the heads-up, Michaela.”

Bridget put her hand on one of the wooden slats of the chair, right by my foot. “I can take a shift now, if you guys want to, I don’t know, go for another swim or take a walk?”

“Thanks, B.” I smiled at her gratefully. Whether she knew I wanted to have alone time with Handel or to avoid Miles’s arrival or a bit of both, I wasn’t sure, but I appreciated the opportunity for all of the above and for the easy exit. To Handel, I said, “Do you feel like going in the water? I could definitely go for another swim.”

He shrugged. “Sure. It’s got to be about ninety degrees out.”

Handel jumped down from the lifeguard chair first, and then I followed. I hit the sand hard and almost lost my balance, but he put an arm out and caught me around the waist before I could fall. The touch of his skin on mine, even casually, even in front of all my friends, made my body feel like it might burn up. His arm dropped away quickly once I recovered, but I was left standing there, longing for it back. Between my friends next to us and Miles and his friends on their way, the sun glaring down over everything, the children everywhere, playing and shouting in the sand, parents trying to catch the last rays of the day, shading themselves under colorful umbrellas, munching on sandwiches between gulps of beer and cheap wine, it seemed impossible Handel and I would ever be alone again.

Bridget made her way to the top of the lifeguard chair. She took the spot we vacated, and I handed up her towel and bag. She plopped it next to her on the bench. When I glanced back at Handel, I caught him staring at me, and when he turned away, he was smiling. I wondered if he was thinking the same things as me, about how here we were in broad daylight, surrounded by half the town, acting as though he hadn’t had his hands all over me less than twenty-four hours ago and in all those places good girls aren’t supposed to let the bad boys go.

“Oh, please get a room, you two,” Tammy said, eyeing us.

“Here comes Miles,” Michaela said, giving me a look.

“And James and Logan and Hugh,” Bridget called down, her hand cupped over her eyes to block the sun.

“Which one shall I pick? I just like them all!” Michaela called back up to her, laughing.

Bridget nudged her with a toe. “Shut up.”

Handel looked at me. Eyebrows arched. “Ready?”

“Okay,” I said, a little torn between the duty I felt to be nice to Miles and the desire to be alone with Handel.

He leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Jane?”

My name, from Handel’s mouth, just like that first day. A question, a statement, an invitation.

Hearing it made the world shimmer.

That woozy feeling halted me long enough that Miles caught up.

“Jane?”

My name a second time, this time from Miles.

He walked straight over to us and planted himself next to me. “How are you doing? You know, after the other night.” He didn’t acknowledge Handel. Didn’t even look his way.

But Handel was looking at Miles. Staring hard.

I turned to Miles. “Let’s not talk about that now,” I told him. Squinted into the glare of the sun going down. “It’s sweet of you to worry, but I’m fine. More than fine,” I added, my eyes on Handel as I said this.

Miles wasn’t ready to quit. “Jane,” he said, leaning toward me, whispering in my ear. “Stay with me. Swim with me.”

Pick me.
This went unspoken, but I could hear it all the same.

I glared at him. “Stop it,” I said, my voice low.

“No,” Miles said, his tone less sure than his answer.

I looked at Handel. His eyes had hardened. I could tell he didn’t like what was happening, didn’t trust Miles, and my heart sank. Maybe this meant that Handel didn’t trust me, wasn’t sure if I’d stay with him if I had the choice to be with Miles. He was waiting for me to do just this, to choose him, but before I could, he shrugged and said, “We’ll swim another time, Jane. It’s okay. Really.”

Then Handel walked off. Down toward the water without me.

I came to, remembering my voice. Called out, “Wait!” and he stopped, his back still to us.

“Jane—” Miles started.

“I have somewhere to be,” I told him. “I have to be with Handel,” I added, as if this wasn’t clear.

I started toward Handel then, couldn’t wait to reach him.

“Jane, I’m sorry,” Miles called out from behind me.

I didn’t turn around—there was nothing left to say. I didn’t stop, either, not until I reached Handel’s outstretched hand and wove my fingers through his. Together we headed down to the place where the water met the beach. By the time our toes touched the water, we were so close I couldn’t tell where my skin ended and Handel’s began. I didn’t care if Miles was watching—I didn’t care who else was, either. Not Miles, not my friends, and not Handel’s. Not even his brothers. All there was in the world in that moment was Handel and me, the two of us, together.

Alone in the sea.

• • •

By the time I made my way back to the lifeguard chair later on, the sun had almost set, the center of the sky a bright sapphire blue and ringed all around with fiery pink. I’d walked the entire length of beach twice on my own, my bathing suit now dry. After our swim, Handel went up on the boardwalk to change his clothes. I thought he’d only be a few minutes, but he’d been gone for over an hour.

I didn’t think much about it.

Only wished that he’d be back soon.

I craved him constantly. His presence. Nearness. All that possibility.

There was a crowd around our lifeguard chair now. Bridget was high up in the seat, with James to her left, and Hugh to her right. While she talked mostly to James, Michaela was halfway up the slats, hand along the wood to hold her steady, deep in conversation with Hugh, who leaned so far forward trying to get close that if he wasn’t careful, he might fall. To the far side of all this were Tammy and Seamus, talking and laughing. They turned toward each other in a way that said
this is a private conversation.
This made me happy to see.

But Miles was gone. This made me relieved.

I grabbed my clothes. Slipped on my jean skirt. Buttoned it. “Hey, B?” I called up to her. “Have you seen Handel?” I asked.

“I thought he was with you,” she said.

“He was. Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” I said, wondering where Handel could have possibly gone. Just when I was starting to feel a little abandoned, I saw him making his way up the beach, but not from the place where he told me he’d be. From the other end entirely.

“Where’d you go?” I asked him when he reached me, trying to sound nonchalant.

He immediately leaned toward me for a kiss. The second his mouth touched mine, my lips parted. I reached up and wove my fingers through his hair, rose high on my toes. I couldn’t help wanting him closer—wanting him in a million different ways I hadn’t known existed before we met. His hands went to the small of my back, light against my skin. Tammy and Bridget started clapping and whistling. Michaela yelled, “This is a family beach, J.”

Handel was laughing, all low and sexy, when he pulled away. “You missed me,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling, blushing like crazy—it was impossible not to. “But where were you?” I asked, unable to stop the question a second time.

Handel’s smile faltered. He looked off into the distance. “I ran into some friends.”

My stomach grew queasy. “Friends like that Cutter guy?”

His head snapped toward me. “Why do you ask that?”

“I don’t know,” I said—when of course I did. Of course. That smell, that cocktail of rot and sweet, suddenly filled my senses. “His name popped into my head.”

“Cutter’s not really a friend of mine,” Handel said. “More of a colleague of my brother.”

The smell disappeared, replaced by relief. I shrugged. “I saw them hanging out yesterday down by the sea wall. Cutter and Colin.”

“You did,” Handel said absently. He grabbed my hand and grinned. Planted another slow kiss on my lips that brought me back to the present. To him.

I was all for him.

Handel’s mouth made its way toward my ear. “Let’s oust your friend Bridget from her throne,” he whispered. “The fireworks are going to start.”

My laughter returned. My joy, too. So fast and so easy. “She’s not coming down from there,” I said as we pulled apart once again, my breath stolen by that kiss. “I think we’re better off trying for Hugh. He’s already halfway down, anyway, busy with hitting on Michaela.” I collected myself a moment. Then marched up to them. “Hey, Hugh, you want to trade places?”

“Sure.” He jumped to the sand, continuing his conversation with Michaela like we weren’t even there.

I turned to Handel. “See how easy that was? Come on,” I beckoned, starting my climb. James and Bridget were all too happy to squish together to make room for Handel and me up in the chair. Soon the four of us were enjoying the evening as it settled upon us and the sky became dark enough for the first fireworks to light up the night.

“You were right about this being the best seat on the beach,” Handel said at one point, squeezing my hand.

“I’m right about a lot of things,” I said. “I’m right about you,” I added, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “And I was definitely right about
them.
” I pointed a little ways off down the beach, where Tammy and Seamus stood, their bodies pressed close together, hands clasped. Then I turned my attention back to the fireworks bursting overhead.

After the last one broke across the blackened sky, leaving a trail of sparks that bloomed like a willow tree, Handel and I left the lifeguard chair and everyone else behind us. We walked, arm in arm, through the spaces between the blankets people had set up to watch the fireworks. Some of the smaller children somehow slept through all the noise and flashes of light and were curled up under a towel or in the base of a shallow beach chair, while others had their eyes and mouths open wide, staring above us like they’d just seen some heavenly show. Families were enjoying pizza and snacking on cheese and crackers from paper plates they’d set on top of their coolers.

“This is nice,” I murmured into Handel’s neck, just below his ear.

“It is,” he said, his grip on my waist tightening a little, the finger he had hooked through the belt loop of my skirt grazing the skin at my waist. Handel maneuvered us left so we avoided stepping onto a blue-and-white-checkered blanket where a grandma and grandpa sat sipping wine in plastic cups.