Tex laughs again. “I can’t see him clipping coupons,” he whispers.
I can’t help it. I’m laughing and nodding. “Me neither.”
“All right, let’s play a game,” Nash suggests. “Who’s up for Dirty Santa? Did everyone bring a gift like I asked?” The presents sit next to Brandt’s Christmas village. Each one is wrapped worse than the next, using no boxes, and way too much tape. “Everyone grab a gift, and you can’t pick the one you brought. We’ll take turns opening them, and you can choose to keep it or steal someone else’s. You only get one steal.”
“I’ll go first,” Jax volunteers. His bundle is wrapped in red paracord. “This has to be from Rhett,” he guesses.
Rhett grins. “That was my contribution. Riggs brought the food.”
Jax opens a bottle of peppermint-scented lube. “Seriously? Not everyone is having gay sex,” Jax complains.
Rhett shrugs. “You can use it to jack off with. Use your imagination,” he adds with a wink.
Pharo cracks up and Jax glares at him. “You go next, asshole, so I can steal it from you.”
Pharo opens a set of green-knitted Christmas trees. “Sorry,” Brandt laughs, “I had a lot left over. I might have made too many.”
Pharo snorts. “There you go, Jax. Do you want the lube or the butt plug?”
“Fuck off, you can keep it. I bet you’ll love them.”
Brandt goes next. He opens a knit skullcap beanie with the BALLS logo. “Cool,” Brandt exclaims. It looks just like the one Jax has been working on for weeks. “Did you make this?”
“No, I liked it too much to give it away. I bought that one in the gift shop.”
Nash opens a CD, theTop Gunsoundtrack, which is no doubt from Brandt, who just shrugs and laughs.
“You realize nobody is stealing that from you, right?” West points out. “You’re stuck with it.”
Riggs opens a bottle ofSouthern Comfort. “Classy shit, right here,” he jokes. “I’m gonna guess this is from Stiles.”
“Better believe it, that’s some good shit,” Stiles swears.
Tex opens a pocket knife and frowns. He looks to Jax. “I’ll trade you for the lube,” he offers. Jax tosses the lube to him and he catches it mid-air. “Sweet,” he says excitedly, flicking the cap to smell the peppermint scent.
My face heats just thinking about Tex using the scented lube.Jesus Christ, don’t go there, Mandy. Not in a crowded room.
It’s my turn. I rip the paper from the box to find a package of fireworks. Likely from West and Brandt’s stash for their Boot Camp. It’s not really my thing. The trauma of the explosion sort of turned me off explosives for life. McCormick opens a gift card to the Black Mountain Tavern. “Switch with me,” I tell him.
“Fuck yeah,” he cheers. “These explosives were meant to be mine.”
That’s a scary fucking thought.
When all the gifts are passed out and traded, Riggs breaks open theSouthern Comfortand passes it around. Towards the bottom of the bottle, the Bitches come up with the genius idea of going out back behind the building to set off the fireworks.
“Fireworks for Christmas?” Brewer asks.
“Every holiday is a good reason to blow shit up,” McCormick explains.
“Don’t even try to make sense of it,” Riggs suggests.
That’s my cue to leave. I whisper to Tex, “I’m gonna head home and change out of this suit.”
“Could you drop me at Serenity House on the way?” he asks.
“Of course.” I don’t know if it’s all the positive attention I received today or the memory of Tex’s soft hands on my chest, but I feel bold and daring in a way I haven’t in…years, not since the accident. I’ll probably regret asking, but… “Later on, after I’ve showered and changed, would you like to join me for dinner at the Tavern?” I hold up the gift card, pretending like I’m only asking because I want to spend it.
Who the fuck wants to eat alone?
