Page 5 of A Cuddly Christmas
She looks like she’s thinking it over, weighing her options between being killed and petting a kitten. I know I’d be willing to risk death to snuggle a sleepy kitten, but not everyone is like me.
“If it makes you feel safer, I can bring the kitten out on the porch.”
“All right, show me the goods,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
With the box in my arms, I practically run inside. Maybe this will be what gets her to smile.
Chapter Three
TILLY
I’m a sucker, and I’m not even mad at myself for it. How can I be when I’m about to see a kitten? I have always wanted one, but my place is too small. The thought of getting to hold one has me bouncing on my heels while I wait for Paxton to return.
Something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention, and I spin around. That’s when I see an adorable donkey poking its head out.
“Hi,” I say to him, but when I wave, he darts back into the barn.
“Don’t take it personally. He’s shy,” Paxton says, and I turn to see he’s got the kitten tucked close to his chest.
“Oh my gosh, it’s an orange baby.” My voice is barely above a whisper as I step closer. “Hi, baby.” Reaching out, I scratch its fluffy head. “Aren’t you adorable.” Okay, so it turns out everything around here is adorable. Including Paxton, even if I don’t want to admit it. “Is it a boy or girl?”
“Girl.”
“Really! Isn’t that super rare?” I’d heard most orange cats are male.
“Yeah, she was shunned by the others. She was the runt of the litter, so I took her in. I think I’m going to keep her.”
“Does she have a name?”
“I still need to come up with one. Got any ideas?”
“Me?” I point to myself.
“Yes, you.” His lips turn up in a half smile, and it’s so unfair. You don’t get to be this good-looking, smart, and charming. Isn’t that against the rules or something? Although I have no idea what the rules are.
“Cheddar? Cheeto, ope! Paprika."
“All food choices,” he chuckles, and the sound is deep and oddly calming.
“I think they’re solid names,” I snip. Why did he ask me if he didn’t want me to pick one?
“No, I love them all,” he says. Why is he so nice all the time? “You want to come in and hold her? It’s cold out here.” He gently moves her off his chest and toward me.
“Okay,” I find myself agreeing as I take her from him.
“Don’t mind the mess.”
“You should see my place. You’d think a tornado had gone through it.”
“Is that an invitation?” he asks as he holds the door open for me.
“I live above the hardware store. It’s not very big, so I don’t have people over.”
I don’t have people over except for Molly, but she doesn’t count. Plus, she brings food. Okay, so occasionally family pops in. Fine, I might have people over, but those people can’t be Paxton Rudolph. I’m already struggling to not think about him all the time. Having his big body in my space with that ridiculous warm, woodsy chocolate smell would be my demise. He’s probably too big anyways.
“I get that. I have a pull-out couch in my office at the clinic so I can crash there if I need to. Thankfully I haven’t had to yet. I’ve got animals at home I have to take care of.”
“If you’re ever in a pinch, you can call me. I could come out and feed them or whatever.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself, but I blame the sweet purring kitten in my hands.
