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Chapter 11

Mac's POV.

I wasn't looking forward to facing the real World which began the second we stepped out of the plane and were greeted by the chill of a Washington winter. Slick roads made the trip to my apartment a slow drive and it was almost impossible to find parking at such a late hour.

My hope was that Harm would stay over. His plans seemed to match mine as I barely had time to open the door before he was pulling my jacket off and then began working on my buttoned down jeans. Each pop of the button through its eyelet sent a thrill to me.

I could feel his erection against my belly when he backed us against my closed but unlocked door. Harm was mostly clothed, I was mostly nude and as I pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, the cellphone in his jean pocket began to ring.

He ignored it at first, his lips finding it was better to kiss and suck my nipples than to speak into the phone's receiver. The third time it rang, I heard him hiss out a curse. Harm almost snapped to attention when Chegwidden's gruff voice barked several orders I couldn't understand. It was enough to deflate the hardness I wanted inside me and while Harm spoke half a dozen "Yes, sir's" he bent to locate whatever clothing he could find.

"I'm sorry. I'll explain later." With one quick kiss to my lips, he was gone.

I didn't expect to wake up alone on Monday morning but that's exactly what happened. A client of his had jumped bail and was caught trying to steal a boat in Norfolk. The conversation was short but Harm didn't expect to come home anytime soon.

"And so it begins." I said out loud while I clutched the cordless to my chest and tried to ignore that desolate feeling.

It was Thursday morning when I stepped into my office and found a massive bouquet of red tipped orange roses in the center of my desk. The flowers were tightly closed, a sign that they were recently purchased and arranged. Surprisingly they have a fragrance, one that doesn't require burying your nose into the bloom to locate. In fact, my whole office has this delicate scent of roses and it makes this abysmal week (and the pile of folders Chegwidden ordered stacked on my desk) so much better.

"They're not red." Harm's baritone says from the doorway and instantly my office smells like him drowning the scent of roses.

"No they're not." I muse and rearrange some of the stems just to give me something to do other than crash into his arms and kiss him senseless. Four days is far too long especially when we barely had time to talk but I guess it's practice if we really wanna give this thing a shot. "Red is a little overrated."

Dalton used to love the red ones. He had them all over his condo when I would visit and would send me dozens and dozens on a daily basis until I slept with him. It was nice then but I really don't need extreme overtures of love. "A lady like you should have roses on your desk every day."

Harm's come in closer, stopped just a few feet away and my body hums from the nearness of him. I feel the heat radiating off his body and I am itching to be alone with him so badly. Four days is too long, way too long. "I don't need flowers every day. Dalton did that once."

"Once a week then and not the red ones." He touches one of the flowers, traces the tip with his finger and I'm reminded just how skilled his hands can be. "Hmm, no card? Guess you have a secret admirer?"

"Guess I do. It's too bad for him I'm off the market."

Harm grins. "Too bad. Do you know what orange flowers with red tips mean?"

"I don't."

"Well, I was told…err, I mean your secret admirer was told that it means friendship has turned to love." His eyes are the most intense blue when he looks at me and I feel my breath catch involuntarily.

Harm's POV.

I watched her looking at the flowers and saw the pure look of happiness on her face. God, I want to see that every day and I want to be the one, the only one to put that smile on her face.

A stupid client in Norfolk required me to leave apply and while I welcomed the time apart at first, four days was too damned long. Apparently I don't like sleeping alone anymore either. Each night I placed a pillow like this or that and curled up around it. But it wasn't her. It wasn't warm or soft or smelled like her and each night was sleepless and lonely and…four days was too damned long. Fuck, I have it bad.

Her door is open but the bullpen is relatively quiet given the time of day. I close the door, shut the blind and don't bother playing coy when I step back to her. "I missed you. I didn't think I'd miss you so bad. It's only been four days."

"Four long and terrible days." Mac agrees and steps into my waiting arms. I tip her head up and kiss her softly knowing I can't control myself if we deepen the kiss. "I don't like sleeping in an empty bed anymore."

"I don't either." I kissed her once more and reluctantly let her go. Mac uses her thumb to rub her lipstick off my bottom lip. "Not my shade?"

"No. Not one bit." She laughs and it sounds like music to my ears. God, I missed her. Mac sighs and her eyes lock onto mine, they are darker, a little sad and I wish we were back in the Bahamas where I could touch and kiss and hold her whenever I wanted.

"What's wrong?"

She waves a hand at the closed door and then between us. "Is this how we're going to be? Stealing kisses behind closed doors?"

"We haven't exactly set the rules, Mac. I know what I want but, I know you may not want the same." She still has that fucking Article 32 and all the bagage that comes with it. Mac was right, starting a new relationship so soon is insane. A relationship with me is even worse given the scuttlebutt between us.

"What do you want?"

"Honestly?" She nods and I shrug as I come to sit on the corner of her desk, mindful not to knock over the mountain of paperwork I shoved aside to put the flowers front and center. "I don't know but, I don't want to spend months sneaking around, hiding this."

"People will talk about you. I don't want your name dragged through the mud because of me."

"Mac." I take her hand, thread her fingers with mine and squeeze gently. "I don't care about that, not even a little bit. In fact…" I turn her hand over, palm facing up and place a set of gold wings in her palm. "I was looking into options, trying to find a way to go back to a carrier."

"You were? How?" I tell her about my night vision and the doctor I consulted months ago that strongly believed he could fix my eyes. "Wow."

"Yeah, your trial put the surgery on hold and now I don't think I want to go through it."

Mac looks at the wings in her hand and closes her eyes. She appears as if in prayer and I'm surprised when she places the wings back in my hand. "Go, see the doctor. Fix your vision and then figure it out. But, don't put your dreams on pause because of me."

I place the wings back in her hand and fold her fingers over them. "That's just it, my dream would mean more than four crummy nights away from you. I don't want that." I place a hand over hers and smile. "I may not be ready for marriage but take those as a…a promise, I guess."

"A promise? Like going steady?" She teases and I imagine me as the high school jock pinning my girlfriend.

"Yep, just like that." I wrap my hand around her wrist and pull her close. "You're it for me."

"You're it for me too." I kiss her again, this time a little deeper when her mouth opens for me.

Once her Article 32 is over and our lives are back on track, I'll slide the ring I bought in Norfolk on her finger and she'll say yes. We can honeymoon back at the Bahamas where the waters are Sapphire Blue.

The End.