A Midsummer Night's Romp by Katie MacAlister Page A

remember when I ask you to stay away from the part of the castle that’s out of bounds to everyone.”
    She made a face. “I already said I was sorry forclimbing over the fence, and swore I wouldn’t do it again. I don’t like the non-necking guy next to Lorina. He’s”— her nose scrunched again—“smarmy. Is that a word? Cankles said that her sister’s boyfriend was smarmy, and I think it means kind of blechy, so if it does, then yeah, he’s smarmy.”
    â€œSmarmy is a very good word for people like that,” Gunner agreed, ignoring the fact that when he had met the man earlier, he had no such impression. “You are a good judge of people. You get that from me.”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know about that. Mom says I think with my heart instead of my head, but that’s just silly, because hearts can’t think, can they? Why don’t you have any horses here? I’m not complaining, but you have a big stable, but no horses. I just thought if you had a horse here, I could ride it instead of taking lessons, and that would save money.”
    â€œNo one has time to take care of a horse, although we do have one elderly Shetland pony who is so old he creaks when he walks, and a three-legged donkey who keeps him company out in one of the pastures.”
    â€œRats.”
    â€œThose we do have. In the stable, and possibly this barn, although I couldn’t swear to that.”
    Cressida considered him with eyes that were almost identical to her mother’s. “You’re funny, Gunner. Cankles is jealous because I have a dad who has a black mom and a white dad, and when I tell her that you’re funny, she’s going to go mental. I can’t wait.”
    â€œAnd you are an odd child who I think takes more after me than I’m comfortable with.” He gave her another smile. “I’ll take you into town later to get the riding helmet, all right?”
    â€œAwesome!” she cheered, and before he could blink, she loped off. Gunner wondered if he’d ever been thatfree and easy, decided he hadn’t, and turned his attention back to the people inside the barn. Thankfully, Roger had reached the end of his discussion, and now another man was standing and briefly reviewing which teams would work on what projects.
    After a moment’s concerted thought, he finally dredged up a name for the man next to Lorina.
    â€œPaul Thompson,” he said softly to himself, his eyes narrowing on the fellow. But even as he recognized the fact that he was unusually hostile toward someone who had done him no wrong, he admitted that it annoyed him that someone else might have his eye on Lorina for a late summer fling.
    Dammit, he saw her first. Therefore, the unwritten rules of a gentleman dictated that he should be allowed to proceed unhindered by competition. Only if Lorina chose to spurn his attentions should Thompson make a move. Perhaps he should point out the rules to the man, since it was obvious he was too obtuse (or ill-bred) to understand them on his own.
    The crowd broke after one last round of mild applause. Gunner moved his scooter to the side, passing out pleasant greetings and smiles as the television and archaeology crews streamed past him. His smile grew a little when Lorina strolled past, but he reminded himself that he had never had to chase after a woman. Women always seemed to come his way without much effort.
    â€œOh,” Lorina said, stopping a few feet away, and looking hesitantly toward him.
    He smiled his very best smile.
    She pursed her lips a little. “I suppose we should probably chat.”
    â€œIf you like, certainly.”
    â€œDo you have your equipment with you?”
    He gave her a roguish grin despite his best intentions. “I find it best to carry it with me at all times.”
    â€œOh, good. Well, I suppose you can give me a rundown on how to use it.” She glanced at her watch.