Men in Kilts

Home > Romance > Men in Kilts > Page 37
Men in Kilts Page 37

by Katie MacAlister


  I kissed his neck and smiled a secret little smile. Our life together was full of promise. How could it be anything else with the dishiest man to ever don a kilt?

  Epilogue

  Two days after Bathsheepa Day Iain walked into the house around lunchtime and pushed a box at me.

  “What’s this?” I asked suspiciously.

  “It’s a present,” he said, and thrust the box into my reluctant hands.

  “A present? Does it contain body parts of any sort?” He rocked back on his heels and waggled his eyebrows at me. That roguish look had me worried. Had Bridget sent him something for me? I gave the box a little shake. “Is it something I will enjoy?”

  “Ah, I don’t think you’re wanting to do that, love. Open it.”

  “Oooh, it must be something fragile! Fragile things usually mean glass. Wine glasses? A lovely vase?” I looked at the box. It didn’t seem to be the sort of box one would put an expensive vase in. It looked to be a box that formerly held cans of baked beans. “Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

  “Love, you’ll find out faster if you open it.”

  I looked at the box again. “Is it something for us both, something for the baby, or something for me personally?”

  “You won’t find out until you open it.”

  “I’m afraid to, Iain.”

  His smile faded a little. “And why is that?”

  “Think back on what the last box you handed me contained.” He thought. “That wasn’t a present, love. I wanted you to throw that in the fire barrel.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t tell me that. You didn’t tell me that it contained the remains of a half-eaten hen. You just simply handed me the box and went off to do something else without warning me of the gruesome collection of dead chicken parts inside.”

  “Ah, but I did pick up the gruesome collection after you shrieked and dropped the box, now didn’t I?”

  He had me there. He had indeed cleaned up the remnants after I freaked.

  “That’s neither here nor there. My point is that I am now naturally hesitant to open any box thrust upon me. Might I have your reassurance that this box contains no animal parts?”

  “Eh… open the box, love.”

  “It does contain animal parts?”

  “Open the box, Kathie.”

  “What sort of animal parts? Edible animal parts?” I was more than a little suspicious now.

  Iain rolled his eyes. “Aye, you can eat it if you’re really wanting to, but you won’t, and if you’ll just look in the bleedin‘ box, you’ll be happy.”

  “Promise?”

  “Ipromise! Now open the bluidy box!”

  I looked at the box. It seemed benign. I sniffed it. No odor of rotting bits of chicken. “You didn’t answer my breadbox question.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, I’ll do it myself.”

  He snatched the box back from me, but I wasn’t about to let him ruin my lovely present. I loved getting presents!

  “Hey, that’s mine. Give it back,” I said as I grabbed the box and pulled.

  “Are you going to open this time and not question me about it for a half hour?” he asked, still retaining his grip on the box.

  I tugged on it. Mine ! “Yes, I’ll open it, just give it back.”

  “You’re sure? You’ll really open it this time?”

  “Yes, yes, just let go of it, Iain.”

  “You’ll not be wondering if it contains something nasty, then?” He tugged the box closer to his chest. Damn it, his hands were stronger than mine.

  “No, I won’t, just give me back my present, Iain.”

  He looked down on the box. “I’m thinking maybe you’re not serious about opening this fine gift I’ve given you.”

  “You haven’t given it to me yet, you big goat. Now hand it over.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Iain has a wicked, wicked sense of justice. This was my payback and we both knew it.

  “Give… me… the… damn… box… Iain.”

  He grinned, and handed it back to me. I took a few deep breaths, vowing to cherish this victory.

  “Thank you. And for the gift. I’m sure I’ll love it.” I smiled at him.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve exactly three seconds to open that, love, or I’m taking it back to where I found it.”

  One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand…“Is it something you found, then, and didn’t purchase for me?”

  He reached for the package. I danced around the table, just out of his reach.

  “No, Iain, I’m opening it, I’m opening it, I just like to build the anticipation a little.”

  “You’ll be doing more than building anticipation if you wait much longer,” he muttered. “Open in now.”

  “Oh very well.” I set the box down on the table. “But you take all of the fun out of getting a present.” I put my hands on the lid. “Smaller than a breadbox?”

  “Kathie—”

  “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

  He started to come around the table. I snatched the box and went running for the sitting room, but despite his sire, he’s fast on his feet. He caught me at the door.

  “One,” he started counting, his hand on the box. On my present! I tried to squeeze the present by him.

  “Two.” I wasn’t having any luck. He was blocking the door and wasn’t budging.

  “Three.” He started to take my box.

  “Nooooo!” I wailed. “It’s mine! I’ll open it, just let go.”

  “I’ll have your promise that you’re going to open it, then.”

  “I promise. I’ll open it.” In my own good time.

  “Now. You’ll open it now.”

  Well, hell. “You sure are a party-pooper. Yes, fine, I’ll open it now.”

  “Go on, then.”

  “Right this second?”

  He sighed and reached for the box.

  “Fine,” I said, setting the box back down onto the table. “I’ll open it, but I want you to know that you’ve taken all the fun out of receiving a surprise present. These things are best drawn out, you know, but you’ve made me rush it and now I won’t enjoy it as much as I might.”

  He looked at his watch. “You’ve been enjoying it for the last ten minutes.

  Open it. Yes, now.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him, and opened the box.

  Curled up on a ratty old pink towel, surrounded by bits of crumpled up newspaper, lay a confused looking little black and white puppy.

  In this land of livestock and working animals, Iain had given me a pet.

  Kathie's Glossary for the Confused

  This glossary is for those of you unfamiliar with BritSpeak and colloquial Scottish phrases, intended so you can enjoy the story without trying to guess the definition of certain words. Or worse, being forced to ask your Scottish minister what exactly tupping means. Or getting a leg over.

  anorak

  parka

  baffles

  slippers

  banshee

  what you howl like when you play

  mump the cud-die for an hour

  black pudding

  a horrible, horrible thing (it's

  actually a sausage made with blood,

  but that qualifies as horrible in my

  point of view)

  blethering

  talking without really saying

  anything; babbling

  bluidy

  bloody

  bit of all right

  slang for a woman, as in a

  girlfriend. Not a nice connotation,

  however, so don't use it unless you

  want to get your face slapped

  bourach

  has many meanings, one of which

  is a mess

  ceud mile failte

  Gaelic for a hundred thousand

  welcomes. Seen a lot on signs in

  Scotland

  contermashious

  stubbornly holding to something,
/>   even when you are wrong

  cropper

  to come a cropper means to have a

  disaster, or something that's gone

  badly awry

  crumpet

  technically a food item similar to

  what Americans know as an English

  muffin, but used in slang to mean a

  woman as a sex object

  dicht

  a quick wipe, or dab

  dreich

  used in Scotland to mean ugly,

  gray, endlessly wet weather

  fagged out

  tired, pooped

  fluich

  the Gaelic word for wet, as in wet

  weather

  frock

  dress

  get a leg over

  oh, come now, must I spell

  everything out?

  grippy

  tight-fisted

  haggis

  Take one dead sheep's organs (heart

  and liver, usually), mix them with

  oatmeal, suet, onion, and stock,

  then place inside the sheep's cleaned

  stomach, and boil for a few hours.

  Some people swear by haggis, others

  swear at it

  havering

  to blather on like a fool

  hen

  used in parts of Scotland, it's the

  Scottish equivalent to the Brit's bird.

  It means a woman

  hen party, hen night

  a bridal shower

  hirsel

  a mixed flock of sheep (or the place

  the sheep eat)

  hogmanay

  New Year's Day

  jumper

  sweater

  kist

  a box, as in a chest in which you

  would store blankets, jumpers, etc.

  knickers

  ladies' undies

  lifting sheep

  moving the sheep from one field to

  another

  mare

  yes, it's a female horse, and it's also

  slang for a bit of all right

  mump the cuddie

  this is actually a children's game,

  but adults can play their own

  variations thereupon. No further

  explanation should be needed

  oxters

  armpits

  pants

  men's underwear

  park

  field or pasture

  pillock

  an idiot or boob

  poor man's polo

  if you can't get the meaning from

  the context of the sentence, it's best

  you don't know

  puckle

  an imprecise measurement, such as

  a handful of something

  serviette

  napkin

  shinty

  a game similar to field hockey,

  played with curved sticks called

  camans. Very popular in the

  Highlands

  slainte, slainte mhath, slainte

  good health

  mhor

  slaistery

  something very messy or mucky

  about the farm/house

  snarky

  snide, smart ass

  snogging

  kissing while checking the number

  of your partner's teeth, if you get

  my meaning

  stick your spoon in the wall

  to die

  suspenders

  a garter belt

  tha gaol agam ort

  Gaelic for Ilove you

  tupping season

  mating season for the sheep.

  Sometimes a ram is known as a tup

  twee

  too cute for words

  wellies

  short for Wellingtons, they are

  rubber boots

  wether

  neutered male sheep

  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Epilogue

 

 

 


‹ Prev