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Yes. It was the judge—the Bird Woman. He still didn’t know her name. She was in the red costume again, but without the cap and goggles. Firm thighs, muscular calves, head of sleek, nearly black hair, direct gaze from dark eyes … all present and accounted for once again. He may never have met a woman more unselfconscious in a swim costume, and he was Australian.
“Anybody who needs it,” the judge added, as more kids trickled in from the locker rooms, including a couple of teens who jumped into the shallow end of the pool. “Lifeguard help,” she explained, “which helps everybody relax. Hi,” she said to Beckett, and stuck out her hand. “I’m Quinn.”
“Not Your Honor?” he asked, receiving the firm handshake.She doesn’t even like you, mate,he reminded himself.If the sex drive’s waking up at last, find somebody who does. But if you can’t stop feeling like you’re cheating, it’s not time yet.
“Not at the pool, anyway,” she said, then leaned down with her hands on those thighs. They were strong, they were firm, and they were rounded. The kind of woman you could hold on to. The kind whose legs would wrap all the way around your waist, too. She said, “You must be Troy. I heard you were coming today.”
“My dad said I had to try,” Troy said. “But I don’t want to put my head in the water.”
“OK,” Quinn said equably. “Have you ever had any swim lessons, Troy?”
“Yes,” he said. “I used to know how to swim, my dad says. Before I knew it was dangerous. But I don’t remember.”
“Ah,” she said. The other kids—and the mum—had gone to the edge of the pool and were sitting there with their legs dangling, but Quinn focused on Troy. “And now itdoesfeel dangerous.”
“Yes,” he said. “My mum was good at swimming, but she died anyway.”
“Oh,” Quinn said, not looking at Beckett. “I can see how that would be scary. For right now, how about sitting on the edge of the pool with the others? You can start out by watching us. But you know what?”
“What?” Troy asked shyly. He’d edged closer to her, and she was still bent down to talk to him. Excellent flexibility. Also, cleavage of the accidental sort. His favorite, especially as her skin was the color of a lightly roasted marshmallow. Not the best way to describe it, probably, but that was how that skin looked to him. Smooth, tender, and delicious. Which made him sound like either a cannibal, or, again, an arsehole.
He couldn’t help noticing. He wasn’t going tosayit.
And then there was the tan line. For some reason, she had a bikini tan line across the hips exposed by the very high-cut tank. Why should that get him so stirred up and confused? Something about the way both togs and tan line formed an arrow pointing straight … down … there.
He was trying not to stare at that tan line. He wasn’t succeeding.
“Every person doing this class today,” she told Troy, “every single one, started out sitting at the edge of the pool and watching. They got in when they felt like they could.” She straightened and blew a whistle, and four kids and one mum slid into the water and held onto the side. “And now look at them,” she said. “The first step is the hardest, and you already did the first step.”
“No, I didn’t,” Troy said. “I don’t even have my feet in the water.”
“That’s not the first step,” she said. “It’s the second step. You already did the hardest part. You came here today.”
This was the point. Troy. Not him.
* * *
What was it about kids,Quinn thought, that they sneaked under your every defense? That they hadn’t formed their own defenses, maybe, and they were still so open and vulnerable that you had to care. She looked into Troy’s worried blue eyes, took his hand, and didn’t look at Beckett, because Beckett wasn’t the point, and anyway, the very last thing she needed to do today, right before her firstdate,was make a fool of herself. Also because he was wearing swim trunks of the more abbreviated—and tight—Australian type, with a jungle print of monkeys and palm trees. No non-elite-swimming American man of her acquaintance would ever have worn those trunks. He was wearing an unbuttoned shirt over them, and the man had chest and thighs to burn. Also abs, and lean hips, and some very nice, well-trimmed chest hair. Could she help it if she liked muscles? He was more lean than bulky, too. Like a swimmer. He looked like a …
Like a real man. Which was a terrible thing to say. Heteronormative, possibly. She couldn’t help it. That was how he looked. Like pure testosterone, held under control.
No.Absolutely not, widower or no. She led a neat life. A disciplined life. Possibly a boring life. A controlled, vetted series of first dates on a predictable night of the week was plenty far enough out of her comfort zone.
Why was she even going there? This wasn’t some kind of terrible quandary. Beckett Hughes didn’t evenlikeher. Well, of course he didn’t. She’d lectured him and fined him. Men didn’t tend to get aroused by that. She told him, “Parents don’t need to get into the pool with their kids, so the swimsuit isn’t necessary unless you’re planning to swim. We have lifeguards. It works better, I find.”
“Cheers,” he said, with a sort of amused quirk to his mouth. Was hesmirkingat her? Nobody smirked at her.
Oh. Troy. She led him over to the pool’s edge, felt his reluctance and how he was staring at the water, glistening and undulating in that welcoming way water did, which always made her want to jump straight in. She dropped his hand and said, “Why don’t you try sitting on the edge now?”
She slid into the pool, and Troy just stood there, hesitating like a doe deciding whether to run. Caleb, her newest swimmer, who was hanging onto the edge but bouncing up and down some, told him, “It’s OK to sit there. Nobody will ever push you in. I was worried they would when I started, but they didn’t, and now I can put my whole head under!”
Troy took a breath all the way from his skinny chest, then dropped to the pool deck and, after another moment of hesitation, let his legs dangle. The whole group clapped for him, and Quinn’s heart filled with mushy gratitude, even though she was the one who’d set up that expectation, and she wasn’t exactly coaching the Olympic team here.
The human heart was a confusing thing, and the buzz she got from doing this class was the most confusing of all. She said, “Excellent job, Troy,” then turned to the group and said, “Let’s start today by blowing bubbles. Take a deep breath, bob down so your head’s under, count to five, blowing bubbles the whole time, then bob up again. We’ll do it three times and give our lungs a workout. On my whistle, and …”
She put it to her lips and blew. Five mouths hauled in breath, and five heads went into the water. Five people who’d been terrified to swim, but were learning.
However long it took. Even if every step was a baby step. If you took enough steps, you could walk all the way to Florida.
