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Bunny Slippers

Was Mollie’s footwear practical? No. A talking point? Absolutely… and who knew where that might lead?

- By Angela Pickering

Coffee Break Tale

Mollie watched his eyes as he inspected her outfit. One of his eyebrows shot up as his gaze arrived at her feet. She blinked and looked down at his feet, where he was wearing boots. “Yes?” she said. “May I help you?” His grin was attractive as was the seductivel­y raised eyebrow.

“Bunny slippers?” he said as if it were a question. “Of course,” she said, “what else?” The ears on her bunny slippers were standing up as if listening for a bunny-eating fox.

“Sorry,” he said, going a pretty shade of pink. “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just not often one sees bunny slippers these days.”

“Not on an adult,” she said on his behalf. The cheek of the man, she thought. “Your boots are hardly Nobel prize-winning efforts, are they?” she said. Though his eyebrow might be, her rebellious brain silently added.

“I’m here about the boiler,” he said. “You need boots for that sort of work.”

“Oh yes,” Mollie said. She’d briefly forgotten about calling her insurance company about the boiler. “I only noticed it this morning,” she continued. “I didn’t expect you to get here so soon.”

“‘So soon’ is my middle name,” he said.

Mollie stifled a giggle and a witty response. “You’d best come in, then.” He paused to wrestle his boots off. “Oh,” she said. “I thought you needed them.”

He grinned again and she watched for the eyebrow action. It didn’t disappoint. “I was only joking,” he said, “bemused by your slippers.”

“There’s nothing wrong with bunny slippers at any age,” she informed him. “Pull yourself together, man, and get my boiler fixed.” He saluted. “Sir, yes sir,” he said. “Well?” Mollie snapped. “Get on with it, then.”

“Er, I do have a slight problem though,” he said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

‘It’s not working, of course,” Mollie said, feeling a bit silly.

She couldn’t navigate the stairs safely in her slippers so she took them off and left them waiting at the foot of the stairs. She glanced back at him following and noticed that he was wearing odd socks. She wondered if he was noticing the way her bottom swung to and fro as she climbed. Her hip had been playing up of late and she hoped he didn’t notice that. Her cheeks warmed as she embarrasse­d herself with the inappropri­ate thought.

Once in the upstairs bathroom, Mollie opened the little door that led to the roof space where the boiler resided. At least, she tried to open the door. The knob came off in her hand and she had to wedge her fingers on the edge of the door and pull.

“You’re not having too good a day, are you?” he commented.

“It’ll be better once the boiler is fixed and I can have a nice, relaxing bath.” She winced as she wondered what sort of picture she had drawn in his mind. “You are registered with that gas safety thingy I trust?” asked rather belatedly. “The one with the Queen’s dogs?” “I am a qualified gas engineer.” “Of course,” she said, and resisted the urge to fan her burning face. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Coffee?” he said, bending down to look at the boiler. “For the worker.”

What a cheek, she thought as she filled the machine with fresh water. Luckily she’d bought some of those coffee pods advertised on television. It was possible that the man upstairs did resemble a certain good-looking film star. Or was that her imaginatio­n?

All done,” he called as he thumped his odd-socked way down the stairs. “You’d forgotten to adjust the timer.”

“Oh, silly me,” she said, as he slipped his arms around her waist.

“You sure you didn’t do it on purpose just to get me round here?” Mollie spun in his arms to face him. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while. Surely I don’t need to resort to trickery,” she whispered.

His kiss assured her that she was right. He raised his head and did that eyebrow thing she found so delicious.

“You’d best cancel the insurance people,” he said.

Mollie giggled. “I haven’t actually rung them,” she admitted.

Some time later, she saw him to the front door. “See you tonight?” he said. “Absolutely,” she replied. She glanced down at his feet again as he pulled on his boots. “I love your socks,” she said. “Very original.”

“I love your slippers,” he said. “Very rabbitty.”

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