Page 6 of Yuletide Acres

Chapter 2

Dylan

Yuletide Acres, Montana

“Daddy, I need money for the bake sale.”

I glance at Marissa, her dark eyes beseeching. “Another bake sale? Didn’t you have one last week?”

“That was for her class. This is for the school,” my mother interjects, pressing a $5-dollar bill into my daughter’s hand. “That should score you a brownie or two. Off you go.”

I chuckle as I drink my coffee. “Thank God she has a fast metabolism. Otherwise she’d be big as a house.”

“Speaking of houses, I rented the shop yesterday.”

I raise my brow, running a hand over my beard. “Really. To whom? Did old man Richards finally decide to move his restaurant location?”

“Please. That man will never relocate. I rented it to a woman, about your age. She’s opening a holistic health center. Acupuncture and crystals and who knows what else. A lovely woman with the most unusual name.”

“An odd moniker goes with the territory if she owns a crystal shop. What’s her name?”

“Poppy. Poppy Mills.”

I double over, coughing as my coffee travels down the wrong pipe.

My mother rushes to my side, patting me on the back. “Are you all right, Dylan?”

“What did you say her name was?”

“Poppy Mills.”

My breath catches. It can’t be. After all these years, it can’t possibly be her. “What does she look like?”

“Slender, long dark hair. Very pretty. Do you know this woman?”

I shake my head, although my gut tells me the opposite.

Could it be my Poppy, here in Yuletide Acres?

“You should stop by the store, welcome her to town. You are the mayor, after all.”

I nod, dumping my coffee dregs down the sink. “I’ll do that today. Not sure how well a holistic center will do here, but, hey, she’s welcome to try.” I pause, clicking my tongue against my teeth. “Is she married? Kids?”

My mother cocks her brow in my direction. “Why? Are you coming out of retirement and reentering the dating pool?”

“I date, Mom.”

“No, you sleep around, Dylan. It’s a small town.” She walks over, running her hand over my short hair. “It would do you good to find a nice woman. Merry has been gone six years now.”

“I know, but I married once for convenience. I’m not settling for anything less than earth-shattering love this time. Since we both know that won’t happen, I’ll stick with my current plan.”

My mother throws up her hands in frustration. “Wonderful. My son has aspirations of being a man whore. Don’t look at me like that. You know it’s true.”

Tell me how you really feel, Mom.

I suppose she has a right to be aggravated. Although I’m careful in my escapades, I’m certainly not exclusive. I do keep it on the up and up, however. The women in my bed—rather the hotel bed—know the score, and so do I. It’s a good time with no strings attached.

And I have no intention of changing my tune.

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