Page 105 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

"What's that?"

Rory rolled his eyes in the direction of the gardener. "Tavish."

Gavin had no frigging idea what to say to that. "Uh, thanks."

"Not that you needed it," Rory said, "but my brothers are heavyweights in the tug-of-war competitions, and I thought to even out the odds."

Gavin waved to snag the gardener's attention. "Thanks for the assist. You rock, Tavish!"

The gray-haired man shrugged, seeming slightly embarrassed.

A sense of accomplishment like none he'd ever known before swept through Gavin. He'd won the games, but more importantly, he'd won Rory's approval. And he had Jamie at his side. This day was perfect.

Murmurs and surprised sounds rolled through the crowd. The throng parted around a figure pushing his way through the gathering.

Trevor Langley halted ten feet from Gavin, Jamie, and Rory.

Gavin stiffened. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I've come to fight you," the English Ass said. "Rory might let you win, but I'll make you work for it."

"Not interested," Gavin said with a dismissive wave.

Trevor stomped closer. "I won't leave until you fight me. Any game you like."

Would this asshole never go away?Sheesh.

"Or perhaps," Trevor said, his lip curling as he surveyed Gavin, "a man in a Santa Claus shirt is too soft in the head and the body to handle a real competition."

Jamie's fingers clinched Gavin's shirt tighter. "What are you hoping to gain here, Trevor?"

The English Ass sniggered. "To show you what a useless wanker this American is. As I said, any game you like, Douglas."

Rory exchanged a look with his brothers, who loitered several yards away with their wives and Emery. Lachlan nodded.

"I have a suggestion," Rory told Trevor, "for an appropriate contest."

"What is it?" Trevor asked, seeming a bit wary.

Good. Gavin liked the scumbag unnerved.

Rory clapped a hand on Gavin's shoulder and winked at him, then turned his attention to Trevor. "Haggis hurling."

Chapter Thirty-Six

Rory gestured for Gavin to join the crowd. Iain stepped aside to make room for Gavin amid the many MacTaggarts. Meanwhile, Rory and Lachlan conferred in hushed voices about the impending haggis-hurling match. Lachlan, his expression tight, listened with intent interest as Rory explained who-knew-what. Lachlan nodded, then waved for Aidan to approach. After more hushed and serious conversation, Aidan sprinted toward the castle wall and vanished through the garden doorway.

Trevor waited halfway between the wall and the crowd, set apart, sneering at no one in particular.

"What's going on?" Gavin asked Iain.

"Setting up the match," Iain explained. "Aidan must be gathering the supplies. They'll need some haggis, of course, and it must be cooked. A platform is usually required too, with whisky barrels as the common choice."

"I have to stand on a whisky barrel?"

"Yes. I hope you have a good sense of balance."

Gavin observed Lachlan and Rory, who still conversed but seemed more relaxed now that they'd sent their younger brother to fetch the necessary items. "You said the haggis has to be cooked. Does that mean Rory was planning this all along? I don't mean like he's in league with Trevor, but he must've thought about doing some haggis hurling. Right?"

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