Free Beyond Christmas (Corrupt Chaos MC #1.5) by Bink Cummings Page B

flaps, I peek inside. Awe, she didn’t! There’s a scrapbook in the bottom, and on the cover is a candid shot of Lachlan and me picking pumpkins in October. He’s smiling, holding two tiny pumpkins in his hands and pretending to bench press them while I’m busy laughing at him. Gosh, I look so happy and so does he.
    Chewing on my lip, I blink away my emotions and pull it out. Lachlan removes the box from my lap and I flip through my gift, getting more choked up as I turn the pages. There are so many pictures of me, of him, of us, Bridget, and some of Whisky and Sniper. There’s even one of Bonez blowing a kiss to the camera with a little note beside it that says, I love you. Thank you for coming into my life. Welcome to the family.
    My bottom lip trembles and the emotions win over as a monsoon of wetness trickles down my cheeks. I try to wipe them away, but they keep on coming. I can’t believe she did this. This is just too much.
    “Merry Christmas, sister,” Whisky says.
    I peer up from a picture of Whisky and me to meet her gaze. “Thank you for this,” I sniffle. “And Merry Christmas to you, too. This is so beautiful.”
    “Pip and I wanted you to have something to commemorate your first year with your new family.”
    “Well, it’s amazing.” A tear drops off my chin and onto my scrapbook. I swipe it away. “Thank you both so much.” I look over at Bridget, who has her own tears rolling down her cheeks. “I love you so much, you know? You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” Our gazes collide and we both begin to cry harder. I reach out to her for a hug. She meets me halfway to embrace and I kiss her cheek, muttering how much she means to me.
    When we finally pull away, my face is a mess and Bonez is standing there with a box of tissues, which he hands to us. “Thanks,” Bridget and I blubber in unison.
    “All right, show’s over. Time to hand out your presents,” Sniper declares, cuddling with his wife, who's also busy crying against his chest.
    Everyone follows his instruction and begin to hand out their presents. A pile quickly builds on the dirt floor in front of our feet. I can feel it. I know these people are going to make me cry again. Sheesh, what a Christmas.
    Lachlan leans over to kiss my temple and set one of the gifts in my lap. “For ye, lassie.”
    For the next hour, everyone unwraps their gifts, exchange thank yous, and clean up their trash. By the time I’m finished, I’m continuously overwhelmed and have a steady stream of tears rushing down my face. I’m not sure what’s more to take: the engagement ring, the scrapbook, or the fifteen other presents. Bonez bought me my very own helmet that’s purple and white, almost identical to Viola’s paint job. Bridget gave me a fuzzy pajama set with matching socks. Lachlan not only gave me my ring, but my very own leather jacket with a patch that says Leannan on the chest, right under another patch that says Mags, property of Smoke. It’s a subtler statement than Whisky’s leather coat that says property of Sniper on the back in huge lettering. I like this much better. Cas’s present to me was tools, which is funny because that’s what I bought him, too. From the rest of our family, I received a variety of goodies, from cookies to candies, socks, lotion, bandanas, and other heartwarming gifts.
    Lachlan and Bridget also made out on goodies. I wasn’t sure what to give Lachlan for Christmas, so I bought him a pair of Batman boxers as a joke, and on a more serious note, a tie blanket that I made him. Plus some other odds and ends. For Bridget, I gave her money and a daughter charm necklace. I know she’s not my daughter, but she might as well be. She must have loved it, because she cried a little as she put it on.
    Beside me, Bridget releases a pent up sigh and rubs her eyes. I’d know that sound anywhere—she’s thinking.
    “What’s up?” I nudge her leg with mine.
    “Fawn bought me a sexy pair of