Chapter 3

Mac's POV

I know he's watching me. I can feel his heated gaze on my legs and bite back a grin. Men. Get a gal a bathing suit and they turn to goo. This one is a lovely, blue two piece I'd bought over the summer and never wore. It's fairly modest, has the girls covered and offers enough support to keep them in place.

After about five minutes Harm strips off his hideous shirt, drops it on the lounger and stalks into the water. He's a marvelous specimen to gawk at, wide back, broad shoulders, cute six. The man has filled out since we first met, bulked up considerably not that I've seen him topless but, it's evident through the uniform.

He dives into the water, disappears beneath the bluest sea I've ever seen and then pops up sometime later. Watching him swim is like watching an olympic swimmer who's strokes are strong and elegant. For a big man, Harm is very graceful and quick on his feet but, I guess that comes from being a military pilot with razor sharp reflexes.

I'm not here to gawk at my sexy partner, I remind myself and shove down the mental picture of him calling random women. This is a vacation, meant to get my head on straight and relax before the New Year. It isn't a romantic getaway no matter how badly I wish it were. We're friends, partners and I'd do best keeping a little distance between us.

Only, it's not that easy when he emerges from the surf with his hair slicked back and droplets on every inch of his skin. Lord, he's a beautiful man and I'm quick to bury my nose in my novel as he stops by the edge of the lounger.

"Good book?" Harm asks and I don't immediately catch the humor in his tone until he snatches the paperback and turns it right side up. "It's easier to read when it's not upside down."

Jerk. I grab half melted from my glass and toss it at him. The cube hits his chest and Harm yelps when it slides down and settles on his navel. "Not funny, flyboy."

"Keep that up and no more piña coladas for you, Marine!"

Harm's POV

"How was dinner?" Not that I really needed to ask. With the ocean a stone's throw the seafood is incredibly fresh. I roasted fish in the oven with a little lemon and sage. It was accompanied by baby potatoes, vegetables and a little white rice.

Mac pushes back from the table and sighs happily. "Incredible. Have I thanked you yet?"

She has, at least six times by my count. "You have."

"Well, thank you again. You really don't have to do all of this."

I like playing host and it's something I don't do much of. Sure, we've had working dinners but it's easier to order take out than rush home to prepare a meal. "I want to. I like to cook and it's a little boring to always cook for myself."

She opens her mouth to say something but doesn't and it leaves me wondering what's going on in that beautiful mind. Whatever it is makes her eyes drop away from me and the pleasant tone of our dinner is precariously close to becoming a memory. "Let's run to town, grab some desert and a tree."

"You actually meant it, about the tree that is?"

I nod. "It's not Christmas without a tree."

Mac's POV

"Screw this. I'll just go to back to town in the morning and get new lights." Harm's standing in the living room, hands on his hips and a quarter strand of lights draped over him. The rest of the lights are a mess of knots on the floor and the ones on the tree refuse to light.

The tree itself is a gorgeous Fraser fir that is almost soft to the touch and makes the small home smell amazing. It's an 8 footer that Harm made fit with a hand saw and a lot of cursing to push it through the main entrance.

He may be a lot of things but Harm is not a patient man. "Harm, it's really not that bad. Just find the end and follow it."

"I have found the end." He grabs it and waves it at me. "I have followed it!" His hand fists the other side and tugs so that the wad of lights lifts off the floor. He looks like a little boy whose toy was broken and I bite my lower lip to prevent from laughing. "The tree lights aren't even working anymore."

They're not and upon inspection, I source out the reason and plug in the correct extension. The tree comes to life, its multicolored lights remaining strong and steady. It's missing at least another strand but, I don't tell him this. "The extension cords were tangled too." I tell him and then take the bundled mess from his hands. "It looks beautiful just like this, we don't need more lights."

"It's not as bright as I'd like…You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

He doesn't seem satisfied but, at least, doesn't argue. The rat nest of lights is tossed into an old cardboard box which he places on the back porch as garbage. Another box holds the ornaments that are far different from the usual fare. "Oh, I've never seen anything like these befofe."

"Bahamas, Mac. Tropical themed." He smiles and takes a Santa in shorts and sandals out of the box.

I've never considered a tropical themed tree but, given our location, I see the appeal. I pull out a group of tropical birds, flamingos and parrots wearing Santa hats. There are pool floaties that look like wreaths, palm trees with Christmas lights draped across the fronds and my favorite, pink sandals with mistletoe on the strap.

There are shells both small and large. Lengths of fishing net to serve as garland. The balls were miniature bouys painyed in pink, blue, purple, yellow and green. I've never seen so many different colors come together and create something so beautiful.

Sounds of Christmas songs fill the air and we sip on hot cocoa and eat gingerbread cookies while we find the right spot for each ornament. It's all rather domestic and wonderful, for once I don't worry about Chris or John or the Corps. It's just my best friend and I enjoying each other's company.

"I found the topper. It's inside this wooden box." He holds a large starfish in his palm with the attachment to set it atop the twig he'd left exposed. "Do the honors, Major."

"Okay." I'm rather meticulous with the starfish and made sure that it sat perfectly straight on its perch. Once satisfied, I was so excited to see our handiwork that I missed a step and found myself falling backwards.

Having little time to brace myself, I expected to hit the ground hard but instead two strong arms wrapped around my middle and stopped the descent. "Woah there, Marine."

Harm held on a little longer than I expected even as my feet hit solid ground. I was pressed up against the wall of his chest and his bare hands skimmed over my abdomen when my shirt had risen exposing my mid-riff.

I'd like to say that it didn't matter and I didn't care. This was just a friend preventing another friend from cracking her head against the hardwood floor. But his touch felt electric, like someone had just stopped and kickstarted my heart.

I liked it.

I liked it a lot but as he made sure I was steady on my feet and unhurt, Harm stepped away as if I'd burnt him.

Harm's POV.

Ever since I was a boy, I've made it a habit of triple checking the locks or all doors. It's a bit of overkill but my obsessive, compulsive side will not let me rest until I'm sure. With Mac in my home, I'm even more cautious and make my way out to the front yard to ensure the main gate to the farm is also closed.

The walk across the property gives me time to think and reflect on a night that was rather nice. Although I'd planned to be wrapped up in some random woman's arms this holiday, I can honestly say I've prefered this alternative.

Having Mac around without work or cases or deadlines looming overhead has been a delight. She's been far more carefree than I'vd seen a weeks and that smile, that perfect smile is back.

Besides my mother, I've never decorated a tree with any other woman. I never really wanted to but, after decorating with Mac, I realized the small details I'd been missing.

She had the cutest look of concentration as she picked an ornament and stood back to find the perfect placement. Her tongue would stick out and an elegant eyebrow could raise in a questioning glance.

It was like a fun game of chess - she'd move a piece and I'd counter with another. We laughed, sang carols, and drank hot chocolate. Everything was simple and nice until Mac missed a step and fell into my arms.

Her back hit my chest and my arms instinctively went around her middle. I held on until she was standing and then I held on a little longer because the scent of chocolate, freshly baked cookies and Mac's spicy skin wouldn't let me let go.

I didn't mean for my hands to graze bare abdomen but it happened and the shock of electricity was so unexpected, I may have backed away suddenly. She noticed my reaction and I could have kicked myself for not saying something.

"That was a close call."

"Yeah."

"Well, I think we're done. I'm exhausted so I'm gonna shower and turn in."

"Okay." I stood in the living room dumbly searching for words I couldn't string together until my head began to hurt.

"Hey, ummm… are we okay?" After making my rounds I knock on the door of her bedroom. She's sitting amongst white fluffy pillows, a book in her hand and the room smells of whatever wonderful shampoo Mac uses.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

I shrug, "No reason. It's just been, I don't know, a bit weird at work."

"Having your best friend lie about being married could do that, I guess."

I really don't want to talk about that and ruin the day we had but I walk in farther and dare to sit on the edge of her bed. "Why didn't you? I would have understood. I would have helped you."

"I know but, when we met I was so out of touch with him that I forgot we were even married. He never called, I never kept in touch. The few times I thought of Chris I knew he'd never let me divorce him without creating a scandal. He did anyway."

"That wasn't your fault." I remind her. The bastard had turned her gun on him and forced Mac to pull the trigger.

"No but, part of me wanted him gone. I'm just happy you weren't there. You don't need to live through the fallout of my messed up life."

I would have wanted to be there and maybe things wouldn't have escalated so quickly. For sure, I wouldn't have let Mac give Ragle a dime and despite his so-called 'proof' a career criminal would have zero credibility to ruin her career. The why she never came to me is a source of embarrassment and regret of a dumb man trying to get laid. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You apologized already. It's fine, you're not my keeper."

"No but, I wasn't a very good friend and I'm sorry."

She cracks a small grin and I feel the weight around us evaporate slowly. "I forgive you if you forgive me for my little omission."

"Little? Heh. Yeah, I forgive you too." My hand pats her leg which is covered by a comforter and then I make my retreat. "Well, goodnight Mac. Sleep well."

"You too."