Page 44 of Yuletide Acres

“I don’t want to be with Troy, although he’s a far kinder man than you. At least where I’m concerned. Don’t forget, I’m also selective about who is allowed into my bed. Unlike you.”

I whirl back to face her, my fists balled at my side. The fury is bubbling out of every pore, but I know deep down that I deserve every barb she’s hurling at me.

“I didn’t ask Gayle to meet me because I wanted to be with her. I overhead Troy mention the two of you going to the bar last night.”

“So what?”

“I got pissed. I…I…”

“You what, Dylan?”

“I wanted to make you jealous.”

“You did. It was very hard to see another woman approach you, knowing that you two are intimate. But then I realized that this isn’t a game. This is my heart and it’s been battered enough by you, Dylan.” She swipes at the tears dripping from her huge hazel eyes, and it takes everything in me not to pull her close. “What we had was magical. But it was ten years ago. You moved on. Literally. You never came back and there was a reason for it.”

“I came back, Poppy.”

“A year later, Dylan,” she bellows, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “How long was I supposed to wait? To hope?” She sniffles, shaking her head. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter now.”

“It does. You’re here. Of all the towns in the world, you’re here. Poppy, that means something.”

She shrugs. “We don’t know that it means anything. It’s likely just a coincidence.”

“Like hell it is. It means that you’re my girl, no one else’s.”

“If I was your girl, you wouldn’t have invited your bed buddy to the bar last night. If I was your girl, you wouldn’t have wanted to hurt me like that.”

“I made a mistake. A stupid mistake.”

“Which time? You’re racking them up, Dylan. Forget it. I’m not doing this. It isn’t healthy for either of us.”

She turns away, taking a few steps toward the door.

“Poppy, don’t walk away from me.”

“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

I grab her to me, feeling the shivers course through her body. Course through my own. I forgot I could feel this way. I forgot everything, but one touch from Poppy brings it all flooding back. “You will always be my girl. It doesn’t matter how many years have passed or how many women I’ve slept with to try to forget you. Forget how you made me feel.”

“Let me go,” Poppy snaps, twisting in my grasp.

Instead of freeing her, I grasp her tighter, pulling her flush against my body. God help me, I miss her. It feels like forever and yet only a moment since I held her. Since she begged me to never let her go.

I never will again.

But Poppy has ten years of fight in her, and she isn’t yielding. “I’m not your girl. I haven’t been your girl since the day you left me. Remember?”

“I’m working on that.”

“By being an asshole? Word of advice, D. Try harder.”

My last bit of patience snaps as my hands slide up to cup her face. “How’s this, then?”

I swallow her arguments, not bothering to seek permission before I capture her mouth. Backing her to the wall, I tangle my fingers in her hair, forcing her to take every ounce of the passion I’ve saved for her. Only for her.

She pushes against me, breaking us apart in the heat of the moment. She stands there—cheeks flushed, breath coming in pants, chest heaving—and glowers in my direction. “How dare you.”

“I dare.” It’s a throwback to our initial meeting, when I showed her in no uncertain terms that she belonged to me. “You are mine, Poppy, and I’m taking back what belongs to me.”

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