Page 30 of Yuletide Acres

The bells above her door jangle, but I’m too lost in Poppy for it to register.

“Is this a new sales display?”

We jerk apart, and I turn to see my mother standing there, an amused smile on her face.

“She fell,” I retort, setting Poppy to the ground and trying to adjust myself without cramming my hands down my pants.

“Right into your arms, I see. Don’t let me disturb you. I just wanted to drop off this invitation for Poppy. The ladies’ auxiliary would love for you to attend their luncheon.”

Poppy’s cheeks flame as she accepts the envelope. “Thank you. That would be lovely.”

“Well, it’s not kissing your first love lovely, but it’ll do. Toodle-oo, lovebirds.”

And just like that, my mother struts out the door, a triumphant smile on her face.

The headache, forgotten in those moments I was lost in Poppy, comes searing back and I wince under the lighting. Damn, but this pain is getting worse by the minute, and it seems Poppy is the only cure.

“Are you okay?” Poppy moves her fingers to my temples, dancing gently along the skin. Without warning, she grasps my hand. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” I inquire, as I follow her to the back of the store. Hell, I’d follow the woman to the gates of hell if she asked me.

Poppy leads me to a treatment room. “Strip off your shirt and pants and lie down. I’ll do some acupuncture and massage. Hey, I’m legally licensed and approved to practice. Straight from the mouth of the mayor.”

“You just want to get me naked, don’t you?” I tease.

“Found me out. I have to see if you’re still as skinny as you were a decade ago.” Instead of granting me privacy, she leans against the counter, her gaze zeroed in on me.

What the lady wants, the lady gets. Years of labor around the yard and regular workouts have earned me some pretty impressive musculature, if I do say so myself. At least, that’s what the ladies claim. I only hope that Poppy concurs. “Well?” I ask, standing in front of her in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs. “Do you approve?”

A flush stains her cheeks as she rubs the back of her neck, a smile on her face. “Hell yes, I approve.”

“Isn’t it your turn?” Hey, a guy can dream.

“Nice try, cowboy. Lie down. Let me cure one ailment at a time.”

I chuckle, obliging her request.

“You should do that more,” she murmurs, her fingers sliding along my head.

“What’s that?”

“Laugh. You always had such a great laugh. And smile. And…everything.” She turns away, but I catch the blush crawling up her cheeks.

Looks like I haven’t struck out yet.

“It feels good to laugh. Well, normally. Right now, it hurts like hell.”

“Where does it hurt?”

I point to the side of my head and above my eye.

“You’ll feel a slight prick from the needles.”

“I hate needles, Poppy.”

“Be a big boy, D. I mean, Dylan.”

My hand reaches up, caressing her forearm. “Call me D. It’s our thing.”

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