Page 10 of Yuletide Acres

I know I was a total prick. But I have to protect myself. I have to ensure that Poppy doesn’t get a foothold in my heart again.

But the way she looked at me, when she mentioned waiting for true love.

Stop it, Dylan. True love is for fairytales and romance novels.

“Try not to sound so enthused.”

“What more would you like me to say? She’s opening some hippie enclave healing center. I can’t wait to see how that flies in Yuletide Acres.”

“Actually, several people are excited. Poppy has the loveliest energy. I’m shocked you didn’t like her.”

I’m still in love with her, Mom.

The idea hits like a tractor trailer. It’s not possible. It’s been ten years. I moved on. Got married. Had a kid. Had years of meaningless sex where I pictured Poppy’s face…

“Dylan.” My mother interrupts my thoughts, and I tear my gaze from the computer screen.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you like Poppy?”

“It’s complicated, Mom.”

Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “Ah. You do know her.”

I nod, rubbing the back of my neck. “I did. Eons ago. I knew her from back in the day, when I was traveling around the country to all those festivals.”

My mother’s jaw slackens. “Wow. Is that why she moved here?”

“No. We never exchanged last names. Hell, she didn’t know my first name. I went by D, not Dylan.”

“Yet she wound up here?” My mother sinks into a chair, her face breaking into a smile. “It’s a sign.”

Oh Christ, please don’t start with that crap. Now my mother sounds like Poppy. “It’s a coincidence.”

“There are no coincidences. But, either way, how nice that an old friend is now local.”

“We weren’t friends,” I grumble, scrubbing my face with my hands. I am all levels of agitated.

“Were you two…intimate?”

“I’m not discussing this with you, Mom.”

“That’s a yes.”

“What does it matter? It was a decade ago. Whatever we had is long gone.”

“Right. Which explains why you’re tied up in all manner of knots. Long gone.” With a pat to my arm, my mother resumes her unpacking.

Me? My thoughts stay lodged on the beautiful woman who now lives only a few miles away from me.

I can’t think here. I need an escape. “I’m headed to the office. You’ll feed Marissa?”

“If she hasn’t eaten her weight in brownies.”

“Always a possibility.” I stroll out to my Jeep, throwing up a hand at the neighbor. Yuletide Acres is a small town, barely tipping the scales at 7,500 residents. News, of all varieties, travels at the speed of gossip, and I’m sure that our newest resident is setting tongues wagging.

God knows she has mine.

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