Page 29 of Yuletide Acres

She glances up, shrugging off the statement. “I’ll tell you that, but it isn’t the truth.”

“Poppy, you could hurt yourself.”

“I’ve been up on it several times. It’s fine. Sturdier than it looks.”

“You are so stubborn.” I turn and walk out without saying a word. Jumping into my Jeep, I head for my workshop and within thirty minutes, I’m back in front of her store, unloading tools that don’t look like they were used in the colonial days.

As soon as I cross the vestibule, I release an exasperated sigh. There, perched on the ladder I told her to avoid using at all costs, is Poppy. “Get down. You’re going to get hurt.”

Her eyes widen at the sound of my voice. “Wow. You came back this time.”

I ignore the pointed barb. “Had to get some tools.”

“Finishing me off, Dylan?”

My dick twitches at her unintended innuendo. “There’s so many ways to take that statement.”

“Not how I meant it.” Maybe not, but I see her flush, nonetheless.

“You sure?”

“Why would I waste my time flirting with a man who loathes everything about me—” Poppy doesn’t get to finish her diatribe as her foot slips and she tumbles off the ladder and right into my arms.

Nothing in the world feels as good as her body against mine, as I tighten my fingers around her ass, pressing her ever closer to my chest. “Now aren’t you glad I was here?”

“I suppose there was some merit to your presence.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

Those hazel eyes flash fire at me, but I grasp her tighter, hearing her huffed sigh. “All things considered, that’s being generous.”

“Let me tell me a few things that I don’t loathe about you.”

“There’s actually a few?” Her lips purse in a pout. She isn’t giving me an inch.

Time to start reclaiming what’s mine.

“I’ll start with a few and we’ll go from there.”

“Ride on, cowboy. What don’t you loathe about me?”

“The way you smell. The first time I hugged you, after all those years, I had to bury my face against your skin because you’ve always smelled delicious.”

She bites her lip, but I see her holding back the smile. “I use the same oils that I did then.”

“Don’t ever stop. What else? The way you bite your lip when you’re thinking really hard or trying not to smile.” I shoot her a pointed glance, smirking as she releases her lower lip from its grasp between her teeth. “Definitely your laugh—the real one, not the polite one.”

“You mean the one where I snort?”

“That’s the one,” I smile. I’m still holding her, but Poppy hasn’t asked to be put down and until she does, I’m sure as hell not letting her go. I inch my mouth closer to hers, catching another whiff of her as my dick hardens in response. “The way your mouth feels against mine.”

Her pupils dilate, but she maintains a calm exterior. “I don’t kiss men with beards, remember?”

“I remember. I also think you’re lying.” I duck my head, nipping gently at her neck, smiling when she tilts her head, granting me access. “See? I knew it was a lie,” I murmur, sucking the soft skin into my mouth and earning a low moan in response.

“Think what you want.” She nudges my face up, her lips seeking mine.

“What I want, is you,” I murmur against her lips, my heart threatening to beat out of its chest at the flood of feelings rushing through every cell.

---