Fifty-six.

"Come on, Casanova," Colt whined, "Tell me what we are doing?"

She was lying on her stomach on top of their bed staring up at him; all while wearing nothing but a scrap of dark green lace, that was deluded enough to call itself underwear.

While Calum did his best, to busy himself in the wardrobe and avoid her pouty mouth, and big doe eyes. Even if he did desperately want to drop his towel and join her. But, his anxious emotions kept his feet rooted to the spot.

"Woman, I told you. I'm taking you for a picnic." He answered, feeling beyond frustrated.

Colt laughed, "Yes, but you're hiding something. I can smell it, you're nervous," She concluded.

Calum sighed and turned to his mate, one arm resting above his head on the wardrobe door, "No, I'm frustrated," he half lied, "It's still your birthday and I may have a special surprise lined up. But, it won't be a surprise if you don't stop bloody badgering me." He stated playfully.

Colt only intensified her pout, "Would it help if I asked completely naked? Maybe bounced on top of you for a while?" She asked with a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Fuck, Love," Calum hissed out, closing his eyes and savouring the image Colt had just place in his mind momentarily; before he quickly snapped them open as he remembered what happened that morning when he closed his eyes. "Will you behave? You're more bloody vixen than she-wolf or wildcat!"

"But, being naughty is so much more fun," Colt laughed out, tilting her head when Calum didn't laugh along, "What's wrong?"

"I just, I want things perfect for you, Love, and we are running out of time. So, will you please get dressed?" He almost begged, grabbing a garment bag from the wardrobe and pulling it out.

"Alright, since you asked so nicely," Colt smiled pausing, "But a clue would help make my outfit choice quicker."

Calum raised his brow at his mate, before noticing the clock, "Fine," he relented, "An outdoor picnic. But that's all you're bloody getting."

Colt smiled at her tiny triumph, even if it was the most obvious clue going. "Thank you," she said sincerely while heading to her side of the wardrobe. "Your kilt?" she asked puzzled, realising which garment bag Calum had removed.

"Aye," he nodded, pulling out the red based tartan material, with criss crossing green bands. Without ceremony he dropped the towel that had been around his waist, and wrapped the kilt around himself, fastening the leather buckles on each hip.

"I thought you said we were going to be late?" Colt asked, with a purring edge to her voice, as she bit her lip taking in every inch of the sight before her.

"Love, get dressed, now." Calum stated, knowing exactly where Colt's mind was travelling, as he felt her take slow measured steps towards him, but deliberately avoided making any eye contact, that may inadvertently encourage her, or possibly him.

Colt licked her lips, eyeing up Calum's defined abdominals, his tattooed pectoral muscles, with the ink that continued over his broad shoulders, and down one of his thick arms. She had seen him naked enough times to know every contour of his body like the back of her hand. But, now he was wearing a kilt, and making no effort to put underwear on, and it was driving her beyond her own control, as she dropped to her knees to run her hands up his still bare legs.

Calum did his best to ignore Colt's wandering fingers on his thighs, as he leaned over and grabbed his ghillie shirt from the bed, tossing it on over his head. His breath hitched as he looked down at her, the exact same moment her nails began to bite demandingly into his skin.

"Nope, that didn't help your case," Colt playfully pointed out, eyeing his lightweight tunic style shirt, with the leather ties at the top.

"Woman!" Calum hissed as her hands crept higher, "Get some bloody clothes on!" He pleaded, as he placed his kilt pin into the fabric, while struggling to ignore his mate.

"When you look like the cover model of an eighteenth century romance novel? You're delusional, Casanova." Colt grinned, looking like she was ready to devour him. "In fact, I want to feel the roughness of that fabric against my skin, as you bend me over," Colt purred, nipping at his thigh with her teeth.

Sighing in sexual frustration, Calum grabbed Colt's shoulders and heaved her upwards and onto her feet. Crushing her to his body, he all but devoured her instead, with a hard kiss that left her gasping for air, as she melted under his touch. Twisting them around he lay her back gently onto the bed, his fingers leaving light tingling trails down her sides.

When he pulled back, he looked into her sparkling hazel eyes and spoke sternly, "Get dressed." Then, grabbing the remainder of his kilt dress kit, he left the room and fled downstairs to finish getting ready, without his mates wander hands, laughing as he heard her snarl at his departure.

Upon reaching the lounge, Calum found Isla and Kalvin cuddled up together on the sofa, contentedly watching television, while Felix and Lewis were crowded around a tablet at the dining table, doing who knows what; the two had become as thick as thieves lately.

"Well, it's been a while since I saw such a handsome figure in a kilt," Isla stated warmly, "Looks good on you, Calum."

"Sitting right here." Kalvin huffed out, making everyone snigger.

"Don't fret, I can hook you up with a great tailor," Calum joked, making Felix's ears perk up.

"This may be the only time I regret being Californian. Women go daft for men in kilts," Felix piped up, tilting his head as he watched Calum, "Wait, is that why you're putting on your fluffy man purse down here? Was a certain, Kitten, getting her claws into you?" He teased.

Calum's face reddened, as again Kalvin spoke up, this time with a growl, "Still sitting, right here!"

"It's a sporran," Isla stated, changing the subject on everyone's behalf, "Not a fluffy man purse, Felix. What's your's done in, is it fox hair, Calum?" She asked curiously.

"No. Lion." Calum stated with his characteristic smirk, as he pulled up his long woolen socks, making Felix snarl and Kalvin guffaw in laughter.

"That's the first time I've ever known anyone to shut him up," Kalvin stated, sharing in Calum's victory with a sincere smile.

"Dad, I find a laser pen works wonders for that," Colt added, as she came downstairs to join everyone, "I keep one on top of the fridge, in case of emergencies," she joked, making Felix blush.

Colt was wearing a dark green wrap dress, with a floaty skirt that stopped just above her knees, a heavy brown cardigan closed with one large button, and a pair of flat soled brown suede boots that covered her calves, stopping below her knees. Her black hair was loose and wavy, as it floated down her back, and the whole image took Calum's breath away.

"Love..." Calum trailed off speechless, unable to swallow.

"I knew that dress would be perfect on you," Isla stated instead, smiling broadly as she stole the words Calum couldn't manage to get out.

Colt's face lit up with a smile, "I really love it, Mom. Thank you," Colt responded sweetly.

"Of course, your hens will arrive next week," Isla added, "You gave us such short notice with that request, Sweetie," Isla teased, making her daughter laugh.

Colt was still smiling from her Mom's words, as Kalvin got up and came over to give his daughter a hug, "Happy birthday, Princess," he stated, squeezing her tightly, his voice thick with emotion.

"Thank you, Daddy." Colt smiled, breathing in his familiar and grounding scent, and enjoying the feel of his arms tightening at her affectionate use of the word, *'Daddy'*.

When Colt turned to face Calum he was stuffing something in his sock, before standing to look at her, his face wearing an unreadable expression.

"Where exactly is this picnic, Casanova, that you need a knife in your sock?" She asked him, playfully.

"You people know nothing. It's not a knife, it's a sgian-dubh," stated Calum, rolling his eyes.

"A whatsit, now?" Colt asked, not wanting to attempt that pronunciation in front of an audience.

Calum smirked, "Nevermind, Love. You look stunning, and we really need to go."

Colt shivered lightly as Calum wrapped his arms about her waist and nuzzled into her neck momentarily, before guiding her to the door.

"Have a lovely time, Sweetie," Isla called, as Kalvin rejoined her on the couch.

"Thanks Mom. Bye y'all." Colt waved, and she and Calum left to a chorus of goodbyes. Well, three goodbyes and a grunt from Lewis.

As they headed towards her truck, she slowed down, the spring air was warm and in the late afternoon sunshine she grabbed her mate's hand and pulled him close. Feeling the need for more contact as she enacted her revenge for being left wanting upstairs.

"I have something to tell you," she smiled mischievously, reaching up to trail her fingers through Calum's hair, and eliciting satisfying purring sounds from him.

"And what would that be, Love?" Calum asked, looking at her with his usual smirk while wrapping her up in his embrace, he too wanting to feel closer to her.

Colt softened completely into Calum as she answered, "I'm following your lead tonight."

"Oh?" He asked, "Don't you always?" He joked.

"Funny man," Colt scoffed, "But no, I'm referring to the fact that, I'm not wearing any underwear either," She smirked, pulling out of his embrace and skipping towards the truck once more, with a laugh.

Calum watched her groaning, "You, are a wicked, wicked tease, Colt," he stated with an incredibly frustrated smile, wondering how on earth he would get through the night now.

*Author's note: A sgian-dubh is a small decorative knife. Worn on the side of the dominant hand, and orginally used for slicing bread and fruit. Most men now use a decorative plastic alternative... unlike Mr River, who has an antler hilt on his blade, and yes it did come flying out of his sock at a friend's wedding dance. Pronounced: Ski-an-doo. Just for those who were curious.* 😉

*Also Happy Hogmanay! Have a fantastic 2022!*