WOOD POV
I couldn’t believe the depth of my own insanity. One afternoon of reading the girl’s dirty fantasies had me acting like a crazy man, concocting some irrational story of my own just to get her into my house for the holidays.
God wept. Or laughed. Probably the latter.
I’d left the office earlier than usual, my to-do list suddenly a damn sight longer now I had this ridiculous scheme to pull off.
I hadn’t bothered decorating this year. No tree, no fairy lights, no Christmas snacks in the pantry.
And, most significantly of all, no f*****g cat.
I groaned to myself as I headed down the pet food aisle of my local supermarket. I’d never had a pet. No dog, no budgerigar, not even a token goldfish when I was a boy. And certainly no bastard cat.
It had been a moment of absolute madness
