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Brook glanced at the table setting one more time to make sure that she’d set out everything needed during their meal. As she leaned forward to straighten one of the butter knives, she thought she’d caught the sound of Graham’s voice.
She tilted her head at an angle, but all she could hear was the music that she’d chosen from her playlist. The walls in this building were not only thick, but also well insulated. Crossing the hardwood floor while being mindful not to spill any of her wine, she opened the front door to her condo.
Sure enough, Graham was pacing in the hallway while holding a bottle of wine in one hand and his cell phone in the other.
“…any movement on the western border?”
Graham must have heard the door open. He swung around to meet her gaze, lifting the corner of his mouth in regret. She nodded her understanding before gesturing that he should step inside. There was no reason why he should be carrying on an important conversation where her neighbor might hear him.
“Did you confirm this intel through NRO?”
Brook stepped back while keeping her right hand on the doorknob. Graham crossed the threshold, his gaze focused on the table settings. He continued discussing the latest emergency with one of his government contractors as he handed her a bottle of her favorite sparkling wine. She held back a grin knowing full well that he’d had to grit his teeth upon paying for the bottle at the checkout counter. It wasn’t like him to spend so little on a California vintage, especially when his preferences were so refined.
Thank you.
She’d mouthed the words, which caused his dark gaze to linger on her lips.
“How long do you think we have?”
Brook motioned that she would take his dress coat as she set the bottle of wine down on the entryway table, along with her wineglass. She wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. This muddled greeting had some of the tension easing from her shoulders.
She hadn’t been looking forward to answering the door.
Brook technically didn’t date, and she’d never made dinner for a man before. She had sex with men who had the same expectations as her—no strings, no regret, and certainly no thought of breakfast the morning after. Somehow, Graham managed to remove his black dress coat without moving the phone from his ear.
“Have you touched base with Lucas? He should still be at the airport.” Graham loosened his tie as Brook kept herself busy sliding his coat onto a hanger. She then hung it in the small closet next to the front door. “No, don’t do that. His wife is eight months pregnant. I’ll catch a flight back. Advise JSOC to spin up a team ASAP. I want a fresh intel from Creech before I arrive.”
When Brook would have turned around to retrieve his dress coat, Graham reached out and wrapped his warm hand around her wrist. She had on a pair of brown jeans and a cream-colored sweater. She’d pushed the sleeves up onto her forearms when she’d been cooking, so the contact of his touch was startling.
“I’ll let you know when I’m back in the air,” Graham advised whoever it was on the other end of the line. She stepped back, letting his arm fall. “I’m going to enjoy a delicious dinner before going home to change out my suitcase. If anything else happens, let me know.”
Brook cleared her throat before stepping around him and picked up her wineglass. She made sure to also collect the bottle of wine, not that she would pour him any of the contents. He preferred whiskey, and she’d made sure to buy a bottle of his favorite brand. He’d mentioned that he was staying for dinner, but she doubted that he would have a drink if he needed to head home afterward in order to pack for an emergency trip.
“I take it that you need to go save the world once again?” Brook asked with a touch of humor as she crossed through the dining room and into the kitchen. The open layout of her condo worked for her current lifestyle. She was able to see her dining room wall from practically every vantage point, with the exception of the bedroom and main bathroom. “The lasagna only needs a few more minutes.”
“It smells delicious in here,” Graham said as he removed his suit jacket. He hung it on the back of a dining room chair before following her into the kitchen. “And I don’t know about the saving the world, but I am contracted to make sure a small piece of it doesn’t get reduced to nothing but a wasteland.”
Brook set her wineglass on the counter. Having something to do with her hands was most welcome, so she concentrated on brewing up a carafe of coffee. He’d need some fuel to keep him going if he was going to turn right around and hop another flight. She understood that his line of work required a top secret sensitive compartmented information (TS/SCI) clearance, and she’d never ask him to betray his security agreement.
“How did the meeting go with Alex DeSilva?” Graham asked as he leaned back against the island. “The firm’s lawyers sent me a copy of the contract that you signed. I’m surprised that he was willing to compromise on such short notice.”
“I think that Alex is hoping to get intoyourgood graces,“ Brook replied wryly as she cast a glance over her shoulder. This type of casual conversation was something that she could handle. She closed the lid on the filter before taking the glass carafe by the handle. “His colleagues’ reports are quite extensive. They are well-trained, and such a partnership could benefit us in the long run.”
“Agreed. Alex has a good reputation, and he does his damnedest to employ the best of the best.”
Brook filled the carafe up with water before pouring the contents into the reservoir. He liked his coffee strong, which was something they had in common.
“How is the case going?”
“Let’s just say that it took a curve at a rather high speed,” Brook said as she slid the carafe onto the burner. She then pressed the brew button. “We went from allegations to actual evidence of several murders.”
“Are you talking about the four bodies that were found about twenty miles outside of the city?” Graham asked as he pushed off from the counter and began to take the saran wrap off the small salad that she’d made while boiling the noodles. “Is that related to your case?”
“Yes, although I’m not sure if the psychiatrist was responsible for the murders. I’ll be honest,” Brook said as she reached for the oven mitt that she’d placed on the counter next to the stove. “I’ve been struggling with this investigation. I’m used to profiling the crime scene and the victims. Starting with no scene, no burial site, and no victims…well, let’s just say that I’ve been out of my element. Locating the burial site should help, though.”
Graham took the small salad bowl and placed it on the dining room table while Brook removed the glass baking dish from the oven. She ignored how natural it seemed to discuss her day while doing something so mundane as serving a home-cooked meal. She’d never been traditional in that sense, but she found such an extreme rather soothing. No longer was she pent up with the previous tension that had plagued her all day long.
“I take it that you can start drafting a profile?” Graham asked as he returned to the kitchen to grab the tongs that she’d set on the island countertop.
