Over My Dead Body - Chapter 28

The soft strain of violins and the fragrant smell of baking garlic bread and tomato sauce greeted MJ as he followed Jensyn into Mario’s Italian Restaurant. They were shown to an intimate table for two in a secluded corner. Once their drink orders were placed, Jensyn prompted him to finish the tale of his day’s events that was started on the drive over.

"Well," he said, "we got to the JOP’s and Mom and Dad tried to reason with those love struck kids, but they weren’t trying to hear ‘em. So, grudgingly though it was, the folks pasted on happy faces and watched their little girl tie the knot."

Jensyn shook her head in disbelief. "They really got married?"

"Yep, they really did. I was the best man. Sorta apropos, don’t you think?" he said with a grin.

A flash of humor crossed her face. "What possessed me to go out with you?"

He smiled broadly and answered, "My devastating good looks."

"That was meant as a rhetorical question, mate."

She was even more appealing when she played coy. "If you say so."

The waiter returned with two glasses of red wine, and left after receiving their meal orders. MJ raised his glass to Jensyn. "I’d like to propose a toast."

She raised an eyebrow curiously, but nonetheless lifted her glass. "A toast to what?"

"To us. We’ve been together for 35 minutes and nary a spat yet. It’s got to be some kind of a record."

A smile tickled the corners of her lips. "It’s still early, but I guess I can drink to that," she said, clicking her glass to his before taking a sip of the beverage.

MJ swallowed a small gulp of the fruity drink, keeping his gaze fixed on Jensyn the entire time. How he managed to get them to Mario’s safely, while stealing glances of her, was a mystery to him. She was wearing a basic black, after-five dress, but she looked anything but basic in it. Her curly tresses were piled high atop her head with a few tendrils dangling alongside her face and neck. A limited application of makeup and the fragrant scent of what he recognized as Chanel’s Allure completed her look. An hour ago she was in police officer blues, and now she sat before him looking like she just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.

"You know, a picture would last longer."

Her voice shook him from his daze. "What?" he said, lowering the glass to the table.

"You were staring."

"Sorry, guilty as charged." He leaned back in his chair. "I’m just trying to figure out your secret."

"And what secret would that be?" she asked, taking the cocktail napkin and blotting her lips.

"The secret of going from Five-O to fabulous in thirty minutes flat." He grunted in approval. "Did they teach you that in spy school?"

A rush of dusty rose colored her café au lait cheeks. She absently twirled a finger around one of her dangling locks, and lowered her gaze.

"I can’t believe…you’re, you’re blushing," he pointed out. "It’s very becoming, but unnecessary."

She shifted her head to meet his gaze.

"You shouldn’t be embarrassed by the truth; you’re gorgeous." His chest tightened as he continued to stare at her. "I could just drown in those beautiful brown eyes," he said in a low, soulful tone.

She tore her gaze from his, took a quick drink of wine, and then looked at him again. "Boy, you are good," she chuckled, humorlessly. "Shower her with kindness and compliments. Is this page two of the MJ Harmon play book?"

He rolled his eyes and released a low groan. "Why are you doing that?"

"What am I doing?" she asked, sitting back in her chair and fiddling with her fork.

"You’re trying to start our routine snipefest. I don’t want to do that, Jensyn."

"But we do it so well."

MJ covered her jumpy hand. A sigh passed her lips. He knew she felt the same spark he just did. The memory of the kiss they shared the day before came rushing to the front on his mind. "We do something else pretty well, too," he said, bringing her hand to his lips. "God, your skin is like silk."

She jerked her hand away. "Alright, Harmon, enough of this. What are you up to?!"

The tips of his ears burned as his anger took root. "Why do I have to be up to something?"

"Because you’re paying compliments to me and not yourself. You’ve actually been very considerate of ‘me’. That’s not your style."

He shrugged. "I’m turning over a new leaf."

"Or trying to press me for information. You know, catch me off guard, then go in for the kill." She scowled angrily at him. "I will not compromise this case for you, so save your charm."

"Damn, girl!" he said, not even trying to hide his irritation. "Why are you so defensive?"

"I am not defensive!"

"The hell you’re not!" He closed his eyes. Don’t let her do it to you. Just take a breath, and calm down. With the breath was released, MJ opened his eyes and continued. "Look, I paid you compliments because I think you’re a beautiful woman, and I asked you out because I wanted to spend some time with you. I wasn’t going to bring up your case, but since you did, I…."

Jensyn shot him a hard look. "We’re not discussing it, Harmon," she warned.

His head jerked in annoyance. "Is that a cop thing?"

"What?"

"I have never heard you refer to me by my first name, unless, of course, you were using it in conjunction with my last name. Will it kill you to call me MJ?"

"Actually, Harmon, it just might." she answered, before taking another sip of her wine.

He shook his head and chuckled. "Fine, call me Harmon. I’ve actually convinced myself that it’s your term of endearment for me."

"I assure you, MJ," she said with emphasis on his name, "nothing could be further from the truth."

He took that moment to turn her earlier words against her. "Wow! Was that so hard?! You’re still breathing, right?" MJ said in his best Australian accent.

When her face brightened in amusement, he knew his lighthearted teasing had the desired effect. "Alright, alright, point taken. You know, you’re a nutty bloke."

They both laughed.

He paused for a moment, and then took her hand in his. "I’m having fun," MJ shared, holding his breath as he waited for her to snap at him or pull her hand away.

To his surprise, she did neither. "Me, too," Jensyn said, tightening her fingers around his. "Me, too."

~*~

Mac had been gone about twenty minutes when Dara heard the doorbell ring. She checked the peephole and groaned. Could this day get any worse? She was worried sick about Mac, and now this. She figured she would regret doing it, but her curiosity got the better of her, so she opened the door.

"Felicia, what do you want? No, don’t answer that, you want my husband. What you’re doing here, is what I want to know."

"I heard about what happened this morning. Is Mac here?" she asked, looking around her nemesis and into the house.

Dara stepped in the path of her gaze. "Do you see him?"

"No," she said with an angry glare, "but for all I know, you could have him upstairs chained to the bed."

"And if he is, I assure you, it’s because he wants to be." Dara laughed, derisively. She knew she would regret opening that door. "I’m not gonna do this with you," she said, attempting to correct her error in judgment.

Felicia wedged herself between the closing door and its frame, easing her way into the house. "I want to see Mac?!"

Dara couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman. "And I want to see you gone!" she countered. "Only one of us is going to get what she wants. Let’s take a wild guess on who that’s gonna be."

One of the officers on guard duty approached the house upon hearing the raised voices. "Is there a problem, Mrs. Scorpio?" he asked Dara, before giving a pointed look to Felicia.

Felicia shot the officer an angry frown.

"No, everything is fine, she was just on her way out," Dara explained. "You can go back to your post."

"Are you sure, ma’am?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

He tilted his head slightly forward, and proceeded to his assigned location.

When the man was out of sight, Felicia turned her full attention back to Dara. "Mac belongs with me, and I am going to have him. It would be wise to start accepting that, Mrs. Scorpio," she remarked with disdain.

"You know, you make it real easy for me to forget I’m a lady." Dara closed the door and pushed Felicia against it, her finger pointed inches from the startled woman’s face. "Listen up, bitch, because I’m only going to say this once. If you persist in this pathetic attempt to ‘steal’ Mac from me, I’m going to stick my foot so far in your ass; you’ll taste shoe polish for the next twenty years. Do I make…myself…clear?" she said, punctuating the words with a finger thump to the woman’s forehead.

Felicia was aghast. "Are you threatening me?"

She shook her head. "No, that is a solemn promise."

A pleased smile formed on the blonde’s lips. "Sounds to me like you’re the one who feels threatened."

"There’s a real threat in my life, Felicia, but you are not it. If I were to walk away from Mac, for any reason, he still wouldn’t want you," she said, her tone certain and direct. The woman’s face soured as Dara commenced with clearing her chest. "You don’t threaten me, but you sure as hell make me angry. I restrained myself at Kevin and Lucy’s a few weeks ago, but this is ‘my’ house and Mac is ‘my’ husband, and there’s only so much of you I can take."

"Well, pretty soon you won’t have to worry about that. In fact, you won’t have any worries at all."

"Save your breath, Felicia, you don’t scare me."

Her lips formed a twisted smile. "Maybe you should reconsider that thought," she said. "Tell Mac I’ll see him around, and you be careful, Dara. It would be tragic if something unforeseen befell you." The woman shot her an icy glare and strolled out the door.

An unsettling sense of foreboding overwhelmed Dara. She wasn’t afraid of Felicia, but there was something about her words, and the look in her eyes. It was obvious the woman was a loose canon, but now it appeared she was also more of a threat than Dara was initially willing to admit.