Still Waters (4 page)

Hartley

“Want
to go for a walk?” I say much more confidently than I feel. I take my hand out
of his and look up the beach to The Point. Crew’s mouth twitches as if he's
fighting not to smile.

“Sure.”

We
turn around and walk side by side. He pulls his t-shirt out from where it was
tucked into the back of his shorts and pulls it over his head.

“So,
kid,” he says, looking up the beach. “Are you in town on business or pleasure?”

I
stiffen a bit at being called ‘kid’ again, and he looks down at me, noticing
the change.

“It's
ok,” I say quickly, “it's just that in my old job I used to get hassled a bit
about my age.”

I
look over at him and see him wince slightly.

 
“No really, it’s fine,” I say, looking down.
“It’s different when you say it, I kind of like it.”

He
really does smile then, and the sight of it makes me smile too. With his
angular face, strong jaw and sharp nose it would be easy for him to look
distant or severe but his eyes are too gentle to be cold and when he smiles his
face softens completely.

“So,
business or pleasure?” he says again.

“How
do you know that I'm new in town?” I counter. I’m trying to change the subject,
but I'm not doing a very good job of it.

“Because
I fly in and out every few months and I sure as hell would have noticed you.”

I
reach down and pick up a pink and white seashell to hide my embarrassment.

“Plus,
you were sitting in an ice cream shop at 11.30am on a Tuesday, so I'm guessing
you either don't have a job here, or you have a very understanding boss.”

I
glance over at him and roll my eyes when I see how satisfied with himself he
looks.

“Ok
Sherlock,” I laugh, “how about this? We each get five personal questions, and
the other person has to answer with one hundred percent honesty.”

He
looks down at me and raises his eyebrows.

“Uh
oh.”

“And
then after those five questions are up, that's it. No more nosy parker.”

“What,”
he says, genuinely surprised. “Ever??”

“That's
right. Personal information will only be shared voluntarily. No more
questions.”

We
walk in silence for a few more steps and then he says, “Just so I have this
straight, do we have to use all five questions at once or can I spread them
out, like over a few days?”

“Are
you planning on seeing me over a few days?” I say coyly, but as soon as the
words leave my mouth I realize, and not for the first time, that I really can’t
pull off that flirty fluttering eyelashes stuff like the other girls can. I’m
thinking about how completely dorky I must sound to him when he grins down at
me and says,

“You
bet your ass I am.”

“My
turn,” I say, changing the subject. We reach the end of the bay and start
walking up the steps to the boardwalk. “Where were you really yesterday? And
don't give me that bullshit about errands. I know you were lying.”

He
looks taken aback for a second and then says, “How did you know I was lying?”

I
look up at him and wink. “Is that one of your questions?”

“What?”
he cries. “That’s not even personal!”

“Relax,
relax,” I laugh, “I'm just kidding. For your information, when you lie you do
this little awkward shoulder shrug thing. Most people have a tick or a
mannerism that gives away a lie. It's barely noticeable unless you're looking
for it, which I was. And that smile you gave me? Total fake.”

“Duly
noted,” he says seriously. I glance up, and it looks as though he can't decide
whether to be annoyed or burst out laughing.

“Just
out of curiosity,” he says quietly, “how did you know it was fake?”

He
looks kind of bummed, and I hesitate for a second before telling him the truth.

“You
smiled with your mouth, but it didn't reach your eyes.”

We
reach the top of the steps and turn left towards The Point.

“I’ll
tell you where I was,’ he says lightly, “but before I do, I want to remind you
that you will only be left with four personal questions and after you hear
where I went you may want to use them all at once. Can I ask that you save one
or two, for later?”

I
nod. “Quit stalling.”

“I
was at the cemetery with Jake. We go every time I come home.” He sighs heavily
and looks out to the sea.

“Oh
God,” I groan into my hands. “Crew, I'm sorry, it was a game. I didn't mean to
pry.”

Now
I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet. Eleanor has told me a hundred
times what a horrible flirt I am and now I think I finally believe her. I can
feel my face burning despite the cold offshore breeze.

“Business
or pleasure?” He says without skipping a beat. “That's my first question.”

I
have to think about that for a second. It was business that brought me here,
but it's not the reason I've decided to stay. Moving wasn’t exactly pleasurable
either, although things in that regard could be looking up.

“Neither,”
I say and then when I see the unamused look on his face I add, “I moved to Twin
Heads to start a new life. I had some trouble with my old employer, and I
thought I'd just try something completely different for a while.”

He
nods thoughtfully and stays silent.

“Is
that it?” I laugh, “you're not going to ask me what the trouble was?”

He
smiles to himself and shakes his head. “I'm saving mine.”

“Fine,”
I hear myself saying despite the thousand burning questions in my brain. “I'm
saving mine too.”

We
walk in silence along the boardwalk until we reach the rough old steps that
someone carved into the rock long ago. I go first, placing my hand on the
railing and Crew follows behind. When we get to the top, we walk side by side
to The Point Café, Twin Heads’ only claim to fame. The café is in the bottom of
the oldest lighthouse on the west coast.

“Hey,
Crew!” shouts a woman from behind the coffee machine as soon as we walk in. She
looks like every blonde cheerleader who ever made my life hell in high school.
  
She looks me up and down and smirks when she
notices my bare feet.

“Hi
Sarah,” he waves and then leads me to a table in the far corner by placing a
hand in the small of my back. It’s a small gesture, but when I glance back at
the girl behind the counter, I can see that it’s one she’s paid careful
attention to. She bangs a mug down on the counter top a little harder than
necessary.

“Ex-girlfriend?”
I ask as I sit down. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I laugh. “Never mind.”

We
chat easily, carefully avoiding any personal topics, stopping only when Sarah
comes over to take our order. When she leaves again Crew is lining up the
sugar, salt and pepper shakers regarding me carefully.

“Wow,
Hartley,” he smiles, “I’m so busy at work at the moment.”

I
look over at him and see a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“So
busy. I’m working non-stop. Work, work, work.”

He
looks at me expectantly and narrows his eyes when I say nothing.

“Work
is so much harder than college, don’t you think? College was a total breeze
compared to work.”

“Hmmmmm,”
I murmur noncommittally and smile sweetly at him across the table.

“And
don’t you love birthdays?” he tries again. “I really love them. How many
birthdays would you say you’ve loved Hartley?”

I
turn my face away and try to hide my grin with my hand.

“Come
on,” he grins. “I’m working my ass off over here.”

“Fine,”
I laugh, “since you’re working so hard. I’m 23; I went to MIT, and I’m a
research scientist.”
Or
was
I add silently. “Now your turn.”

“I’m
26, I went to a bunch of different colleges, and I own my own company.”

Sarah
stomps over to the table and thumps down the tray sending coffee up and over
the side of my cup.

“What
kind of company?” I say, taking a small sip of my coffee. It’s awful.

“Well….”
he says slowly, “I’d say that question is rather personal.”

“No,
it’s not,” I say shaking my head. “Uh uh. I told you I was a
research
scientist. You owe me another
piece of information.”

He
takes a slow sip of his coffee and then places the almost full cup to the side.

“I
buy pieces of at risk land and turn them into sustainable eco-lodges, and then
use the profits for initiatives focusing on forest regeneration and wildlife
education.”

He
says it quickly and without fuss, as if it’s nothing. He may even look a little
embarrassed.

“Want
to go?” he says suddenly, looking down at my untouched cup of coffee. He’s
already standing up by the time I answer.

We
walk past the outdoor tables and chairs that have been stacked against the wall
out of the weather and out to the observation deck that overlooks the bay.
Along the cliff edge is a row of coin-operated telescopes that have been
positioned in front of high metal stools. An old man has been sitting on the
one at the far end of the deck the whole time we've been at The Point. When he
sees us approaching, he carefully climbs down off the stool and walks away. We
keep walking until we’re at the railing at the edge of the cliff. I look out at
the sweeping horseshoe shaped bay bordered by golden dunes that the local kids
like to slide down in summer. The small township lies just behind the dunes,
and I see if I can spot my house.

“Hey
kid,” Crew says next to me. I look up into his face and see that his expression
is serious. All of the morning’s joking and playfulness has gone.

“Yeah?”

He
looks down at me.

“Do
you want to try something with me?”

I
look sideways at the line of hang gliders swan diving off the cliff above us
and then back at him. Oh God, please don’t let him be one of those adrenaline
junkie guys.

He
can see my thoughts flittering across my face, and his mouth twitches in
amusement.

“Close
your eyes.”

I
laugh nervously but do as I'm told, the smell of salt from the sea and the feel
of the wind on my face and the back of my neck suddenly intensified now that
everything is dark. I'm about to ask him what he's doing when I feel warm hands
under my arms, and then I'm being lifted in the air. I let out an unattractive
yelping sound and then I'm back down again, sitting backward on one of the
metal stools next to the telescopes. I can feel the eyepiece digging into my
back. I stay like that for a few seconds, my hands gripping the seat on either
side of my hips and my legs dangling in free air. I start to open one eye to
see what's going on, but he catches me.

“Uh
uh. Keep em’ closed.”

When
I was a child my older sister Marty used to play a game a bit like this, only
then I always used to end up with a wet willy in my ear or something revolting
in my mouth. I clamp my lips together tight.

Just
when I'm beginning to get impatient, I feel his hands on each of my knees.
They're warm through the denim of my jeans, and I clutch the seat harder. He
applies gentle pressure, just a nudge, and opens my legs a little wider. My
heart is banging in my chest like a drum, and I'm willing myself not to blush.
He closes the gap between us and even though I can't see, I know that we’re
almost nose to nose.

“Do
you trust me?” he says softly.

I
hesitate for a second because my brain is telling me that I can't possibly
trust a man I only met yesterday. But my heart is speaking too, and it’s saying
something different. Before I can stop myself, I hear my voice saying, “Yes.”

He
reaches behind my head and gently pulls the elastic from my hair. I feel the
mass of it drop heavily against my back, and strands of it lift and fly around
in the wind.

“Uh,
Crew?” I say half jokingly, my eyes still closed. “Is this going to hurt?”

I
hear him laugh softly in front of me.

“Not
even close.”

And
then his hands are on either side of my face and up into my hair. He threads
his fingers through the curls and rests them there, cradling my head in his
hands. I open my mouth to say something but he says “Ssssshhh,” and only then
do I realize that his mouth is right next to mine. I can feel his words like
breath tickling my lips. He stays there for a couple of heartbeats, not moving,
and then suddenly his mouth is right there. The rough prickle of his stubble
rasps against the sensitive skin of my face and the softness of his bottom lip
is warm where it presses against mine. He's slow and deliberate, and he keeps
his hands firmly in my hair so that I can't move. He moves his mouth on mine,
applying gentle pressure, opening my lips a little, and then backing off. My
hands are still on either side of the stool gripping it so hard that the cold
metal digs into the palms of my hands. I lift them up and place them gently on
either side of his hips, just above the waistband of his shorts. He flinches
slightly at the contact and moves closer. The difference is nothing, but it
changes everything when it comes to the pressure of his mouth on mine. I try to
speed up the kiss, but he pulls back, slowing the pace back down. My head is
spinning, and I dig my fingers into his hips to try and steady myself, but it
only intensifies everything. And then just as suddenly as it began, his mouth
is gone. I feel the loss of it immediately. My lips are cold and tingling, and
my breath is coming in short, sharp bursts. I open my eyes, looking up at him
wildly, and he stares down at my mouth for a second before gently taking his
hands out of my hair. He takes two steps backward and walks over to the railing
next to me, leaning his elbows on it as he looks out to the sea. To the right
of me a woman is dragging her reluctant dog along the observation deck; she has
her head down against the wind and is pulling on the lead. When she passes by,
she looks first at me then at Crew and mutters something that I can’t hear.
After a moment, I lift myself off the stool and stand next to him. Down below
us a surfer is paddling out towards the waves.