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“You already got me a gift,” Brook said softly, not taking the proffered present. All that kept registering in her mind was that it was small. As in…small enough to resemble a ring box. “See?”
Brook was pretty sure that a fruitcake couldn’t fit into such a tiny box.
She purposefully reached behind her to hold up a pen that resembled the one she’d lost earlier this year. She’d spent months looking for it, still hoping that it had slipped behind a piece of furniture or had gotten stuck in the back of a desk drawer. Her bid to reach for the case that the pen was still in gave her time to sort through her thoughts for what could possibly be inside the box that was currently in his left hand.
“Brook? Open your other gift,” Graham said softly with encouragement. “Please.”
Brook slowly reached behind her to set the case with her pen back down on her desk. She quickly came to a decision and held up a finger as she walked around her desk to open the lower drawer.
Truthfully, she was a bit relieved that he’d gotten her an additional gift. It shouldn’t have mattered, but it made her feel slightly relieved that she wouldn’t appear as if she’d gone above and beyond what was expected of her.
“Well,” Brook said after she cleared her throat a couple of times. She held up a small square package that she’d had wrapped at the frame shop. “Would you look at that? I’m not so bad with this gift exchange thing as you thought, am I?”
Brook was afraid that she was about to discover what she’d known all along—that shewasreally, really bad at exchanging gifts. She might have just crossed the same line that she’d been the one to draw into the sand between their personal and professional lives.
Who was she kidding?
She hadn’t just crossed it.
She’d hurled herself over it without thinking about the consequences.
“On second thought, we’ve had a wonderful get-together with the team already, don’t you think?” Brook remained behind her desk, needing the physical barrier between them. “We don’t want to overdo it or anything.”
What had she been thinking to contact the base that Graham’s daughter had last been stationed? It was if someone else had taken over her body for those few moments it had taken to ask one of the commanding officers to check around for any type of sketch, drawing, or painting that Kelsey Elliott may have created on a whim while she’d been stationed there.
The likelihood had been almost nonexistent.
Besides, his daughter was off limits. Brook had no right to go diving into Graham’s past, let alone precious memories that involved his family. Yet a package had arrived at the office yesterday with her name on it. Tucked safely inside had been a napkin with what appeared to be a coffee stain on the edge. In the middle and with lines drawn in blue ink had been a beautiful eagle with its wings spread wide as it was flying high above the ground. The accompanying note had signified the drawing had been tacked to a bulletin board. Someone had thought enough of Kelsey’s drawing to save it, and the small hole in the opposite corner of the coffee stain was evidence of such action.
What had happened to the non-emotional and no-nonsense woman that Brook had been merely a year ago? She wanted that woman back with a vengeance.
“Breathe.”
She hadn’t realized that Graham had walked around the desk or that he’d taken the wineglass out of her hand. While his voice was barely a murmur, he respected her personal space given their location and the possibility that someone could walk down the hall at any time.
“I can’t lose myself,” Brook whispered as she tried to lay blame on the holidays. Everyone in the office had been so cheerful, mindful, and giving these past few days leading into Christmas. She blamed them, too. “I can’t lose myself, Graham.”
“It’s a good thing that I’m an excellent tracker then, isn’t it?” Graham shifted so that he was leaning against her desk. The rich, woodsy scent of his cologne should have had her taking a step back, but there was something so reassuring about the fragrance. He held up the small gift in the palm of his hand. “Your harness, just in case you’re ever feeling lost.”
“My…”
Brook frowned at him in displeasure.
He had made her curious as to what was in the box.
Clearly, that had been his intention.
“I was trying to be thoughtful,” Brook said quietly as they slowly exchanged their gifts. It would be wise to micromanage any emotions that her gift might invoke, so she continued to do just that. “If I’ve overstepped, I—“
“You are so bad at this present thing,” Graham said with a laugh. A real laugh. One where he’d thrown his head back and his eyes crinkled in the corners. “Brooklyn, open your present.”
Brook picked at the tape on the side of the wrapping paper all the while giving herself a pep talk about how tomorrow would bring about a new day. Everyone else had a three-day weekend, and she would be back in her element. She would be at home, at her dining room table, in front of her dining room wall that she’d made into a murder board. She’d hunt down clues as to what her brother was planning to do next, and she wouldn’t need to stress about her personal life.
Just visualizing herself in that scenario had the tension easing from her shoulders. She tossed the torn wrapping paper onto her desk and opened the small box.
“It’s…” Brook had never seen anything like it before. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s what they call a worry ring,” Graham said as he tucked his own gift underneath his arm and pulled out the intricate silver band that had undoubtedly been handcrafted with care. He took her right hand and slipped the wide band on her ring finger. She wasn’t going to ask how he’d known her ring size since she hardly ever wore jewelry. “The outer layer spins around the main band, giving you the ability to rotate it when you think. You do that back-and-forth thing with a pen or stylus in between your fingers all the time. It’s part of your thought process. So, I figured this ring can be your harness.”
