Breaking the surface of the water for air, gasping, Galen caught a glimpse of Bede diving into the water, his body cutting the surface close to where Galen was, treading water.
When Bede came up for air, sunlight sparkled on his dark hair, shaggy like a dog’s, and on his tan face, and on the droplets on his shoulders. As he tread water, he came a little closer, hisblue eyes on Galen, as if he was testing the limits of how close he could get with a potential audience watching.
Close. Galen was letting Bede tread pretty close, and he didn’t know whether or not he was worried about that.
Apparently, there weren’t any rules against hooking up, but Galen wasn’t a hookup kind of guy. But what kind of future would he have with a—yeah, an ex-con? Even a nice one, as Bede was turning out to be, wouldn’t want to come back to the farm with Galen, or help him figure out what to do with it. And there was no way in hell Galen was trekking down to Denver to set up a new life there.
And yet—he was irresistibly drawn to that white-toothed smile, that strong, handsome face, the water sliding down Bede’s temples. His strong shoulders keeping him afloat.
Then there was the way Bede had helped him with those bills, teaching him a new way to interact with the faceless bill collectors on the other end of the phone. He’d been appreciative of Galen’s help with the fake job application, as well. The two of them had not just kissed, they’d shared a lot of laughter, and they’d connected in an amazingly deep way.
All of that was more than Galen was ready to resist, even though he knew he should.
“Good, huh?” Galen asked, shaking a bit of water out of his eyes. “How’s that shoulder?”
“It’s fine,” said Bede, smiling. “Man, I missed the water.”
“No swimming pools in prison, then,” said Galen, thinking it was strange that this hadn’t occurred to him before. But then, he was distracted by the way Bede’s lips moved with lake water dripping across his mouth as he spoke.
Bede laughed out loud, his arms creating half arcs in the surface of the water, in a mesmerizing, steady cadence.
“Some ex-cons, you know, they miss the craziest things.”
“Like what?” Galen felt something beneath the water and realized it was Bede’s feet.
He didn’t move away, letting their limbs mingle like human seaweed. Or in this case, lake weed, even though he knew the lake was very deep, and all the plantgrowth would be found along the shoreline.
“Coffee,” said Bede. “I missed coffee.”
Galen nodded. He already knew about that one.
“I missed really good beer,” said Bede, now. “Like a Pilsner. Ice cold. Haven’t had any in over five years.”
“And?” Galen knew that the tavern they were going to on Saturday night had very good local beer, and he smiled as he anticipated watching Bede enjoy one.
“Water,” said Bede. “Lots of water.”
Bede’s eyes scanned the horizon of green pine trees, the gray slash of what could be seen of Guipago Ridge above that, and then finally he looked straight up, where a bit of cloud was stretching across the sun. Then he looked at Galen again.
“Showers in prison are ten minutes at most. The water pressure sucks, isn’t all that hot, and showering with a bunch of crooks who don’t have any manners or restraint is about as gross as it gets.”
“So you must love the showers here.”
Galen felt the bleakness of that idea come at him fast.
“I’m not actually supposed to be here, but then you probably know that,” said Bede, suddenly. He looked over his shoulder as if to check how close anyone was to them. “I wasn’t going to apply for the program. It’s not for the likes of me, you see. But Kell?—”
Bede lifted his head, his eyes seeking, and Galen turned to look at what he was seeing. Kell and Marston were in the red canoe, the prow of the sleek boat slicing through the water as they made their way to the center of the lake.
“Kell talked the parole board into it. Seriously. And he hammered at me all the time to apply, so I applied.” Bede’s fingers broke through the surface of the water, silently. “This is all such a break for me. One I don’t deserve, and I fully realize that. But it’s making me think about my life in ways I never thought was possible when Winston was alive?—”
“Winston,” said Galen, wanting to encourage Bede to continue. “I read in your file he was one of your men. He was the one who got shot.”
“Never mind,” said Bede, his attention coming back to Galen. “The point is, we don’t deserve this. None of us do. But we’re here. It’s pretty cool. And I, for one, am grateful.”
With that, Bede slipped up through the water to float on his back. Hands spread wide to keep his balance, his eyes closed, water slipping down his cheeks like tears, while the sun blazed overhead. His legs came up to the surface, muscled, damp, his red swim shorts sticking to his upper thighs, the slight hair on his chest streaming down like arrows.
The tattoos were now fully on display, blocky patterns on his upper arms, both of them, and a sleek curved shape that arced across his neck.
