Page 106 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

Iain scratched his chin and nodded slowly. "Rory believes in being prepared. If he thought he might want to hurl haggis, he would've made sure to cook some beforehand."

"All part of his test for me."

"Take it as a compliment," Iain said, smiling in that Iain-like, subdued way. "Rory never bothered to test any of Jamie's previous boyfriends."

Gavin figured he ought to be flattered, but Trevor's appearance had turned this simple test of his determination into an all-out war. If Trevor won this goofy haggis-hurling thing, the English Ass would crow about it forever and probably move to Scotland exclusively to keep on crowing about it, even though the guy hated this country. What was Trevor's game? Not haggis hurling. He had something way slimier up his sleeve.

Aidan trotted out the garden doorway, steering toward his brothers. The youngest of the Three Macs carried a small whisky barrel in one hand while he carted a plastic sack over the other shoulder. Two lumps weighed down the sack. When Aidan reached his brothers, he set the barrel on the ground and dumped the sack beside it.

The brothers engaged in more hush-hush discussion.

Lachlan gave a sharp nod and retreated to where his wife stood with their son in her arms.

Aidan said something to Rory that made the solicitor's brows shoot up. Rory almost smiled, then slapped his brother on the shoulder. Aidan hustled over to his wife and child.

Calli waved one finger to catch Gavin's attention. She gave him a thumb's-up sign and mouthed, "Good luck."

He mouthed, "Thanks."

Jamie wended her way through the crowd to Gavin. She planted a quick but firm kiss on his lips, and said, "Beat him. In any and all senses of the word."

"Will do."

She took up a position beside Emery, and the two women linked their arms.

Rory cleared his throat loud enough to make everyone fall silent. "Gavin Douglas, come forward. Trevor Langley, come forward. The haggis hurling is about to commence."

Gavin and Trevor approached Rory, and both eyed the whisky barrel.

Trevor smirked.

A lot of nasty words popped into Gavin's head, but he stopped short of spewing them. There were kids in the vicinity. Besides, he wouldn't give Trevor the satisfaction of pissing him off.

Instead, Gavin cracked his knuckles and said, "Let's do this."

Rory dumped the contents of the plastic sack, picked up a haggis, and tossed it to Gavin. "The American goes first."

Trevor's mouth pinched into a petulant expression.

Gavin didn't bother suppressing his self-satisfied smile. He had no qualms about liking the Englishman's annoyance.

"Stand on the barrel," Rory said, "and hurl away."

"Man, you better be careful saying that to an American. We have a different idea about what hurling means."

Rory glanced at Emery where she waited beside Lachlan and Erica. "I'm aware of that."

Gavin hefted the large, rock-shaped sausage in his hand, testing its weight. "Aw, even a girl could throw this. Guess that means Langley's in trouble, seeing as he's in the kiddie weight class."

Trevor's nostrils flared, his lips warped into a nasty expression.

Okay, yeah, Gavin could admit hereallyliked pissing off the English Ass.

Gavin stepped onto the barrel, elevated maybe a foot off the ground. He bent his knees for stability, trying to gauge how much the barrel might move. Satisfied he wouldn't tumble over backward, he drew his arm back as if pitching a baseball.

He hurled the haggis.

The lump of sausage plopped down a good distance away.

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