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He nodded to the small present on top of her pile. "That one first, pearl."
Helen gave him the side eye as Mason sat, then tore open the wrapping. She held up a pearl and diamond necklace, and her eyes widened. "Oh Ray, it's beautiful."
He leaned onto the armrest. "Look closer at that center pearl."
She turned it to the light and lifted her glasses from the chain on her chest. She gasped when she saw it. "Oh, it's the ocean. Waves and flowers carved right onto it. It's so detailed. Thank you, Ray. It's perfect."
Ray leaned back in his recliner and smiled like the cat who ate the canary. "Only the best for you, pearl. Merry Christmas."
She held her hand out, and Ray took it, squeezing it as they stared into each other's eyes.
Mason grinned but said, "Geez, get a room already."
Helen and Ray laughed as Helen wiped tears from her eyes. Then she waved at them all. "Ok everyone, now dig in and stop staring at me."
Mason opened his while trying to watch everyone else. Helen liked the cast iron skillet he got her, and Pops sniffed the box of cigars approvingly.
He opened his first two—a personalized coffee mug with his name on it and an envelope from Pops, which probably contained a steakhouse gift card. Before he could open the envelope, he saw Lucy reach for her last gift.
He'd put a lot of thought into it, but he didn't know her very well. Sure, he'd done some sleuthing in their database and online this week.
But she was squeaky clean with only two parking tickets in her entire short life. It still amazed him that she was a decade younger than him. She looked barely old enough to be in college much less graduated.
It made him feel old, and as much as he ached for her, he didn't want to be the creep in his thirties hitting onto a gorgeous woman ten years his junior. It would be too weird, wouldn't it?
She opened the gift and laughed, her eyes wide as she looked up at him with twinkling eyes.
"Do you like it?" he asked, shifting on the couch nervously. It suddenly seemed as if both their grandparents were staring at them.
She held up the bottle of whiskey and shook her head, but the grin on her face made him smile. "Writer's Tears?"
He nodded. "For when your book gets away from you. A shot of that will either make you forget your book entirely or help you tackle the next writer's block."
She dug into the box and held up a block of cheese. He'd printed a label at work especially for it. She laughed and said, "Writer's Block Cheese?"
He grinned and nodded. "It's supposed to pair really well with the whiskey."
She poked into the box and shook her head. "Post-it notes, a journal, and a fountain pen? Wow."
He shifted on the couch again and felt his heart stutter in his chest. "So you like it?"
She laid her hand on his knee and leaned closer, her voice soft as she said, "It's perfect. Thank you."
He felt a knot in his throat as he nodded. It'd been a little thing that hopefully would make her think about him. Did he really want that, though?
He said roughly, "Maybe it'll help you finish your book."
Her eyes brightened with tears as she nodded. She looked away, then nudged him with her knee. "Open yours."
He looked down, realizing he still had one present to open. The handwriting on it had to be hers. It had swoops and was elegant and just fit her somehow. He tore the paper, careful to keep his name intact.
It was a green ammo box painted on one side. It had the Texas Rangers logo and his name. He traced the paint. He'd not even gotten something this nice when he'd hit ten years with the Rangers.
"Open it," she whispered.
He couldn't look at her. If he did, he might do something stupid like kiss her right there in front of their grandparents. He popped the lid and looked inside. A flask and two glasses were inside. The flask was engraved with his name, then it said: The man. The myth. The legend.
He grinned and held it up to show Ray who nodded approvingly. Then he pulled out the glasses. His brows rose, and it felt like a fish hook was in his mouth from grinning so wide.
