Page 4 of A Christmas Harbor

“I don’t know.” He threw a glance down David’s frame, then back up to meet his eyes. “What does an honorable man look like?”

There. Signal sent. If David was strictly straight, his body language would blareNo thanksor maybe evenFuck off. These days, a little low-key flirtation usually wouldn’t bring on a punch, but Paul readied himself to dodge one, just in case.

David’s eyes narrowed but stayed locked with his.

“Aaaand here’s your mulled wine, my friend.” Jackie placed Paul’s drink on a green bar napkin. “Sorry it took so long. I had to strain it, then…” he twirled his finger above the glass mug “…add all the magic.” He turned to David. “Another for you, or did you still want to close out your tab?”

“Another, please, Jackie.” David pushed his empty glass toward the bartender, then offered Paul an inscrutable look. “I’m sticking around.”

* * *

Eight years after the end of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, David still found it hard not to greet a come-on with alarm. For half his career, a single chance encounter on a lonely night of liberty could cost him everything.

These days, it was safe to be out. Safe to find short- or even long-term companionship. Yet here he was, drinking himself numb on another Christmas Eve, as carefully, cautiously alone as ever.

Thank God Jackie had interrupted them just now, since David had no good comeback to Paul’s line. His flirting skills had gone rusty—not that they’d ever been well-oiled in the first place.

Paul peered down into his mulled wine, a sardonic smile visible through dark facial hair that lingered halfway between stubble and beard. “There’s a lot going on in this glass.” He stirred the ruby-red liquid using its cinnamon stick garnish, pushing around an orange slice, a lemon wedge, and a piece of star anise. The citrus-y scent stung David’s nostrils.

Paul set down the cinnamon stick. “Here goes.”

“Godspeed.” David kept a straight face. This guy was about to find out why no one ordered seconds of Jackie’s liquid concoctions.

Paul blew on the wine, sending forth a cloud of steam, then took a big swill. His eyes widened as he touched his throat. “I think I just scorched a hole in my esophagus.” He coughed hard, clasping the front of his gray V-neck sweater. “I’ve always wondered how it felt to drink battery acid.”

“Trust me, Jackie’s eggnog is even sketchier.” He saw the man in question approaching with his drink. “Can you make that a double?”

“Absolutely.” The bartender looked at Paul. “How’s the mulled wine?”

“It’s…” Paul nodded vigorously. “Yeah.”

“Great, let me know when you’re ready for another.”

“Sure thing!” Paul raised his mug to his lips, then set it down without drinking as Jackie walked away. “Is there someplace I can dump this?” he whispered, peering around at the near-empty tavern. “Where’s a potted plant when you need it?”

“All the bar’s flora already gave their lives to save ours.” Not top-notch banter, but it got a smile out of Paul. “You know,” David added, “you’re not legally obliged to drink the whole thing.”

Paul’s shoulders sagged. “But he was so happy when I ordered it. When I walked in, his face was as long as...” He seemed to search for words, then gestured to the bar around them. “Everyone else’s here. Including yours.”

“Nah, I was chock-full of comfort and joy until I got Wham’d.”

“Of course you were.” Paul smirked, but the benevolence in his hazel-brown eyes softened the sarcasm.

Jackie arrived with the double bourbon and placed the napkin over the usual knot in the bar’s wooden surface. “Watch out, Davy. The McSaltys’ Cold War is heating up.”

David looked at the couple at the other end of the bar. The Kendricks weren’t always here when he stopped in after work, but when they did appear, they made a show of ignoring each other. Now they were actively bickering. “What is it this time?” he asked Jackie.

“Typical Christmas kerfuffle stuff—whose parents’ house they’re having dinner at tomorrow, who was supposed to buy a gift for the nephew, who’s having the more objectionable affair…”

Paul sat up straighter. “Wait, really?” He peered at the Kendricks, as if he wished he were sitting close to them instead of David. Maybe he was merely seeking entertainment.

“Don’t worry, they’ll never break up,” Jackie said with a flip of his hand. “They enjoy each other’s misery too much. Hey, whatever floats their boat, right?” he added over his shoulder as he breezed away.

David slid his tumbler toward Paul. “Not passing judgment on your masochism, but if you’d like an alternative…”

Paul did a double-take. “You ordered that for me?”

“For us to share.”

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