Page 35 of The Unhinged Christmas of a Cat Lady
Bri clutches her chest dramatically. “He brought you reindeer socks.”
“And kitten food,” Lizzie adds. “And actual chocolate. This man didn’t just turn up with a basket. He turned up with a gesture.”
I blink at them. “He said it was a housewarming gift.”
“Oh please,” Bri says. “Bread and saltisa housewarming gift. Chocolate for SJ is thoughtful. But novelty socks? That’s flirting. Polite, winter-themed flirting.”
“It isnotflirting,” I say. “It’s quirky. It’s practical. It’s—”
“Personal,” Amelia interrupts, eyes gleaming. “It’s cheeky. You don’t give novelty socks to a tenant.”
I shake my head. “It was just a kind thing to do. A neighbourly thing. He’s being polite.”
“You’re deflecting,” Amelia says, smug.
“I’m redirecting,” I mutter, pouring myself a glass of water and pretending not to look at the basket again. “He’s just being nice.”
And yet. There’s a flicker in my stomach I don’t fully trust. A fizz. Nothing dramatic—just the tiniest flare ofmaybe. It’s been years since someone flirted with me. Real flirting, not pub banter or Sim-Sim’s tired half-compliments. This felt... different. Warmer. Intentional in a way I didn’t expect.
“Tall,” Lizzie says, counting on her fingers.
“Broad shoulders,” Bri nods.
“And silently competent,” Amelia sighs. “Honestly, if he’d handed me that basket, I’d have proposed.”
“He knocked. He gave me a gift. He left,” I say flatly. “That’s not romance. That’s Amazon with manners.”
“Helingered,” Bri says.
“He absolutely didn’t.”
“He lingered emotionally.”
“Oh my God.”
I lean against the worktop, sip my water, and try not to think about the way Jasper saidreindeer sockslike it wasn’t ridiculous. Like it wasn’t the softest, most unassuming way anyone’s tried to make me laugh in months.
It was a good basket.
That’s all.
And yet—
I glance down at the socks again.
They’re red. Hilarious. Cosy-looking.
I do sort of want to put them on.
Still… I’m not dating. I’m not even thinking about dating. I’ve barely finished unpacking. My marriage is still warm at the edges. I’ve got a child to settle, a life to rebuild, and two kittens who think my dressing gown is a climbing wall.
No complications. No crushes. No topless, brooding types with good eyebrows and thoughtful baskets.
Still.
I may need to start brushing my hair before opening the door.
Just in case.
