Page 19 of Gift-Wrapped in a Kilt

Emery pointed to the other side of the gallery.

He squinted but couldn't see anything, until a break in the crowd of dancers and a glint of light from the sparkly ceiling balls revealed it to him. Another buffet table. Overly muscled MacTaggart men ambled along the table's length, snatching up hearty-looking snacks.

"Didn't see it over there," Gavin said. "Hiding the good stuff, huh?"

"Not on purpose. It's hard to keep the MacTaggarts away from their beef and haggis, though." She glanced back at her husband, who hulked a dozen yards away with his equally hulking brothers. "They're all so big, they tend to dwarf their surroundings."

"And I'm a shrimp?"

"No, sweetie, you're a big, braw man in your own right."

Weirdly, her statement made him feel better. Whenever he got around the Three Macs, he started to feel like the runt of the litter, though he stood six one. Didn't help that each of them wore super-manly costumes. Lachlan was a pirate, complete with a billowing shirt that hung open to the waist, exposing his chest, and a scuffed leather vest to go with his scuffed leather pants. A cutlass hung from his belt, and he had a fake parrot attached to his shoulder, which must've been Erica's idea. No way a man like Lachlan would volunteer for that. Aidan was a firefighter, sort of. He had no shirt, only the fireman pants and suspenders, along with the requisite boots. When Gavin had asked Calli about her husband's outfit, she'd gotten a secretive little smile on her face and said it reminded them both of the night they'd met.

Gavin decided not to press her for details. Some things he didn't need to know.

Aidan held a fireman's hat in one hand. When Calli hopped up on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear, he grinned and slapped the hat on his head.

His sister, the sweet girl who'd once been too shy to go as anything but a ghost with a sheet over her head, wore an Egyptian costume with the highest slit he'd ever seen. Erica's costume featured a slit almost as high, though she'd dressed as a hot witch.

And Emery… Well, he hadn't quite figured out her costume yet.

She wore a miniskirt kilt, made from the blue-and-green tartan of the MacTaggart clan. Instead of an actual shirt, she'd squeezed into a black-leather bustier with skinny straps over her shoulders. Metal buttons decorated the thing's front side while leather laces cinched it up in back. Black leather boots covered her calves up to her knees, and she'd tied her blonde hair into twin ponytails. A dainty little crossbow hung from a chain on her hip while an equally dainty quiver strapped to her back held arrows with feathery pink fletching. She'd accessorized her outfit with leather wrist cuffs and a plaid scarf slung around her neck, its ends tumbling down her back. A plaid cap, the same blue-and-green as her kilt and scarf, perched atop her head. A fluffy blue ball topped the cap.

Just to make the costume weirder, she wore a crucifix around her neck and had a clear bottle filled with water strapped to her hip, the one not sporting a crossbow. The bottle had a crucifix symbol painted on it.

"Uh," he said, waving a finger in a big circle to indicate her outfit, "what the heck are you supposed to be?"

Emery grinned, her cheeks dimpling. "I'm Emmy the Scottish Vampire Slayer."

"The wha —" He couldn't finish the question, not while she was tapping her cross-adorned bottle of water.

"My holy water," she said. "The last resort, of course. I prefer to nail the vamps with an arrow to the heart. Then —" She made an explosion sound and a matching gesture with her hands. "Poof. They're dust."

"Uh-huh." He glanced toward Rory. The guy wore skintight black pants with tall black boots, and a black shirt-like thing that seemed kind of sci-fi. It exposed his arms and massive biceps. A red cape flowed down his backside, and a hammer thingamajig hung from his belt, its head huge and rectangular. Gavin swore he'd seen something like it before. "What's your husband supposed to be?"

"Thor, the Norse god of thunder." She winked. "As portrayed by Chris Hemsworth, of course. Rory is the super-hot version of Thor, not a cartoon character."

No, Rory MacTaggart wouldn't want to be confused with a cartoon. Still, Gavin couldn't believe the stern lawyer would dress up at all for Halloween. At least now the hammer thing made sense. It was Thor's hammer.

"His hair is brown," Gavin said, "not blond, and it's short."

She shrugged. "Rory will not wear a wig under any circumstances. I don't mind the creative license, though. I love Rory's hair."

No way in hell would Gavin ask why.

So instead, he gestured at her kilt and asked, "That's the MacTaggart tartan, right?"

Emery nodded. "Sure is. Surprised you recognize it."

"Jamie's got a blanket made out of it."

"Speaking of Jamie…" Emery laid a fingertip on his jaw and turned his head slowly with slight pressure. "Your goddess has arrived."

Gavin froze, his gaze locked on the goddess lingering twenty feet away, her shimmering eyes fixed on him. Every flash of the disco balls set her golden-brown hair alight. A short, billowing toga hugged her curves and flared out around her thighs, accentuating her voluptuous figure. Her full breasts rose and fell with every breath, their luscious mounds hidden by the thin fabric that clung to them. He couldn't resist running his gaze over her body, from her creamy shoulders and down past her slim waist and womanly hips to the mouthwatering curves of her thighs and calves. Sky-high heels gave her ankles an elegantly sensual curve.

And her hair. Heaven almighty, it framed her face in sleek, bouncy waves that kissed her shoulders. A sudden urge gripped him, to thrust his hands into that hair and claim her mouth while the silken fall of her hair feathered over his skin.

His cock shot hard.

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