Matchmaker Cat (A Romantic Comedy Short Story) by Elizabeth Kyne (best classic romance novels txt) 📕

‘I’ll take ataxi.’ I’d got there by bus, which was fine in the early evening,but not so pleasant late at night.

‘Want toshare?’

I shook myhead. ‘No, it’s all right.’

‘It’s not muchout of my way, and it’ll save you a few bob.’

He looked at mewith those smiling eyes and I just had to say yes. Anyway, it wasan excuse to spend a little more time in his company.

It was, maybe,presumptuous of me to invite him in for a drink when the cabstopped outside my house, but as soon as the question was out of mymouth, I felt it was the right thing to do.

I led him upthe stone steps towards the front door of my Victorian terrace.‘Watch out for the bike in the hallway,’ I said as I turned the keyin the lock and stepped inside. Out of habit, I put my handbag onthe coathook before following it with my jacket and reaching overfor the lightswitch.

‘Ow!’ Rissexclaimed.

The light cameon to reveal Riss in the hallway, standing by my bike and rubbinghis ankle.

I hid my smilebehind my hand. ‘I did warn you.’

‘The pedal wassticking out.’ He rubbed his ankle still further.

‘Sorry,’ Isaid. ‘Why don’t I put the kettle on and you can rest your foot inthe lounge? It’s the door on the left.’

He walked overto the door as I suggested, exaggerating his limp likeQuasimodo.

As the kettleboiled and I put two teaspoons of instant coffee granules into twomugs, I thought about the evening we had had together and Icouldn’t stop the smile from breaking out on my face. A week ago, Icouldn’t have imagined meeting a man like him - let alone invitinghim back to my house. And yet, there he was, with just one thinVictorian wall between us.

I took the twosteaming mugs into the lounge. He’d made himself comfortable on thesofa, sinking into its aged cushions with his feet stretched out infront of him. I was about to ask him something about taking sugarin his coffee when I stopped short.

My saggy redsofa is a two-seater. The idea is; one human being sits on the seatto the right and the second human being sits on the seat to theleft. And, if the two human beings are so inclined, they get alittle closer and end up snuggling somewhere in the middle. But, onthis occasion, Riss was sitting on the right-hand cushion - and sowas my cat!

I cleared mythrough as I handed Riss his coffee. ‘I don’t usually let Chesteronto the furniture.’

‘Oh, Chester’sall right,’ said Riss, stroking the white patch of fur underChester’s chin with his index finger, causing my cat to squint inecstasy. ‘Aren’t you Chester?’ Chester purred.

I sighed. Thetwo of them looked so comfortable that I decided to bite my lip. Isat down on the left-hand cushion, with Chester between us.

Riss moved todrink his coffee.

‘There’s nosugar in it, I hope that’s all right,’ I said.

‘Just how Ilike it.’ He took a sip, even though it was near-scalding hot.

I went to sipmy own, but the heat coming off the top of the coffee was enough towarn me off and I lowered it towards my lap to cool.

Riss continuedto stroke Chester, who continued to grin in that serene way catshave when they’re being fussed over. ‘I love cats,’ he said.‘They’re so less demanding than a dog and yet they love you all thesame.’

‘Or they lovethat you feed them,’ I said.

Riss chuckled.‘Indeed. My cat, Lindy, rushes up to me as soon as I get home likeshe’s really pleased to see me, but I often wonder if she’s justpleased to see the man who can use a tin opener.’

‘You didn’tmention you had a cat,’ I said.

‘It’s in myprofile,’ said Riss.

‘Oh yes.’ I’dforgotten. It had been so long since I’d read his profile on thedating website, that some of the details had drifted from my brain.His emails had been much more personal and, in them, we’d talkedmore about our favourite movies and music.

‘So, how comeyou chose my profile over all the other men out there?’ saidRiss.

‘Well, it’sfunny,’ I said. ‘I didn’t really choose you, I sort of happenedupon you by accident.’ As I told him about that day I found hispicture on my computer, I looked at Chester sitting like King ofthe Sofa between us, and I started to wonder…

*

A couple ofweeks later, I woke in my bed on Sunday morning to find Chesterasleep on the pillow next to me. He knew he wasn’t allowed in thebedroom, let alone on the bed, but since Riss had been cominground, that rule had kind of been got forgotten. The other pillowon my bed was propped up against the headboard and Riss was leaningagainst it, his naked chest with its mix of grey and dark hairs,looking amazingly sexy. He was perusing his phone with adisgruntled expression.

‘What’s thematter, darling?’ I said, surprising myself with the use of theword ‘darling’.

‘Looks like Imight have to go to Germany for more than a few days,’ saidRiss.

‘Oh.’ There wassomething going on with the German parent company where he worked.Something, apparently, that needed more than a conference call.

‘Might be aslong as a month,’ he said.

‘A month!’ Thatwoke me up properly and I propped myself on an elbow so I couldlook Riss in the eye. It startled Chester, who let out a drowsymeow and shifted his position on the pillow.

‘Misha justsent me a text.’

‘Why’s yourboss texting you on a Sunday morning?’

‘He worries,’said Riss. ‘It’s better than calling me.’

‘Isuppose.’

‘What am Igoing to do about my flat?’

‘I’m sure itcan survive without you for a month. Better than I can.’ I reachedover my cat - feeling his soft warm fur on my naked breast - tokiss Riss on the cheek.

‘The tenancyagreement says I’m not allowed any pets,’ he said.

‘But you have acat.’

‘Yes. Whenthere’s an inspection, I clear away all her cat things and get afriend to look after Lindy for a few hours. My landlord doesn’tknow.’

I gave him adisapproving stare. ‘Isn’t that a bit dishonest?’

‘Have you evertried renting a flat? Nowhere lets you have pets.’

I looked at hislittle worried face, his chin dark with the stain of