The second package reveals a small jar of cream.
"I noticed the skin around your eye gets irritated," she says. "It's a very gentle cream. It has aloe vera in it."
I glance at her across the table. "Have you been talking to Lukas?"
"About eye cream?" She looks confused. "No."
I set the jar down and open the next package. It's a small red rubber cube.
"For stress," she explains. "You squeeze it. Apparently it helps when you feel….." She pauses to consider her words. "It helps you focus."
When I open the fourth gift I find a pair of black and white enamel cufflinks. Yin and yang.
"These symbolize us?" I ask drily.
"Well, I couldn't find grumpy sunshine ones."
I frown at that. "Grumpy sunshine?"
"It's a romance trope." She waves a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure you don't read a lot of romance."
"I confess I do not."
"Well that explains everything." She grins and then her expression sobers. "Anyway, these are just a few…. I know they're silly."
Her voice catches. I reach across to place my hand over hers.
"They're not silly."
She looks down at where my hand rests on top of hers and then back up at me. "I just wanted to…" She purses her lips. "I just wanted to show you that…" She bats a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. "I don't know what I wanted. They're stupid."
"These gifts are not stupid." I squeeze her hand. "They're the best gifts anyone has ever given me."
The items in themselves are small things but together they mean a lot. She put considerable thought into these presents.
I'm not sure when someone last did that for me. My mother when I was young, probably. She used to agonize over what to buy for us.
Katya blows out a breath, composing herself.
"The best gifts anyone has ever given you?"
There's my girl, back to her breezy self and fishing for compliments.
I bring her hand to my scarred mouth and kiss it. She doesn't flinch.
"The best," I confirm.
"Oh. In that case I should send the Aston Martin back."
My eye widens. "The what?"
"Your main gift." She's smiling with the smugness of a woman who knows she's caught me off guard. "It's in the garage."
"How did you manage to get an Aston Martin onto the property without me knowing about it?"
The balloons and other gifts I can understand. Though my men have been screening all incoming deliveries, they haven't reported every little purchase Katya has made. The way my wife shops it would become their full-time job if they tried to.
But an Aston Martin isn't exactly small.
