A slow, sexy smile stretches across his gorgeous mouth. “Good. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let you.”
“I’m confused. What about your rotation of women?”
“Don’t believe everything you hear. Since you’re back in my life, there’s no one else. Just you.”
“Is that a line? I mean it is working, but is that a line you use every time?”
He cups my face, pressing kisses to my jaw. “Poppy, I’m in love with you. From the day I met you in California, you’ve been the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
My heart wants to burst out of my chest as I kiss him. Hard. “Let’s get out of here. Now.”
“Do you have anything you’d like to say back?”
I climb off him, sending him a saucy grin. “Mr. West, if I didn’t love you, would I have put up with your array of crap?”
Dylan chuckles, grabbing me around the waist and dropping a kiss to my hair. “Fair enough.”
I wait near the door while Dylan grabs our coats, my body tingling with anticipation. The idea of this man touching me. Kissing me. Moving inside me. I release a sated moan, glancing around to ensure that no one heard me.
I note an attractive raven-haired woman approaching Dylan and judging by her body language and their heated exchange, she’s less than thrilled to see him. Or maybe she’s less than thrilled to see me by his side.
I edge closer, hoping that the knot in my stomach is just nerves. But as soon as I’m within earshot, my knees turn to jello.
The knot wins.
“Were you even going to say hello to me, Dylan?” the woman inquires, her hands on her hips.
“Gayle,” Dylan mumbles, his jaw slack. “I…forgot. I’m sorry.”
“You forgot? I see you didn’t forget your latest floozy.”
Now the gloves are off. I march over, because no one calls me a floozy and gets away with it. “First, I’m no floozy. Second, I have a name,” I interject, thrusting out my hand. “Poppy Mills.”
The woman glances at my hand in disgust. “I don’t care what your name is. I’m curious to know why the man who asked me to meet him here for our weekly rendezvous is sneaking out with another woman.”
I swing my gaze to Dylan, watching the color drain from his face. “You asked her to meet you here? Tonight?”
“Honey, it’s our weekly spot. You must be new. Welcome to the club.” The woman sneers at me and I’m tempted to forgo all my love is the answer teachings and whack her alongside the damn head. “Well? What’s your excuse this time, Dylan?”
My stomach flips. This time? Holy hell, I really am a naïve twit. Grabbing my jacket from Dylan’s hand, I throw it on, damn near catching my finger in the zipper. “I’m out of here.”
Dylan grabs my arm, turning me around. The look on his face. It would be funny if it weren’t so damn heartbreaking. “Poppy, please don’t go. Just give me a minute to speak to her.”
“Wow,” I hiss, letting all my anger flow toward the handsome mayor. “You are something else, Mr. West. That line works every time, doesn’t it? You’re the only one I want. I love you.” I shudder as I recall how good those words felt only minutes earlier. How mocking they feel now. “And I fell for it. I can’t believe I fell for it. At least I didn’t fall for you again.”
“Stop it. Please.”
“Please what, Dylan? Did you or did you not invite her here tonight?” At his silence, I continue. “You knew I would be here, so you thought, what? You’d rub it in? Prove what a hot commodity you are? Show off how many women you are bedding? Message received.”
I stomp away, making it to the door before his arms wrap around my waist. “You are not them, Poppy.”
I twist from his grasp, my fury raging. “You’re damn right. And I never will be.”
Chapter 8
Dylan
I storm back into the bar, determined to settle my tab and catch up with Poppy. I need to reassure her that this situation—this bad as hell looking situation—isn’t what it seems.
I’ve been a fool before, but this one takes the damn cake.
Gayle is at my side, her glare burning holes into me. With a resigned huff, I swing my gaze to meet hers. I owe her an explanation, too.
I screwed over both women tonight.
The worst part is that I’ve likely ruined any future chance with Poppy. All because of my jealousy. My unfounded jealousy.
“Well? What the hell was that about, Dylan? I know you don’t date, but for God’s sake, you’ve never treated me with such disregard.”
I scrub my face with my hands, a sinking feeling in my stomach. She’s right. “I’m sorry, Gayle.”
“You’re sorry? That’s the best you can do? Sorry?” She grabs her drink, downing it in one swallow. “I suppose I should understand, right? She’s gorgeous and new. A shiny new toy.”
“Actually, she’s not new.” My earlier headache has returned with a vengeance; I just hope I can maintain until I reach Poppy.
“What the hell does that mean? I’ve never seen her before.”
“She’s Poppy, the woman from the festivals.”
“Festivals?”
“Yes, the woman I dated for a year. The one I traveled around the country with a decade ago. She’s that woman.”
Recognition breaks across Gayle’s face, replacing some of the fury. “Holy shit. How did you find her?”
“She found me.” I force a laugh. “She claims Merry brought her here. That she visited her dreams and told her about this town where she needed to move.”
“Do you believe her?”
“As crazy as it sounds, I do. Poppy and I didn’t know each other’s last names. There’s no way this is coincidence.”
“You’re still in love with her.” It’s a statement, not a question.
One I can’t deny.
“I’m more in love with her than ever before.”
“I could kill you, Dylan West, but you’re fucking up enough on your own. You don’t need my assistance. Why in the world would you ask me to meet you here when you’re with Poppy? Why not warn me beforehand?”
Crap. I’m really going to sound like a terrible human being. “I thought she was coming here with Troy. I—”
“Wanted to make her jealous. You’re a bastard.”
“I know I am. You have every right to hate me.”
“You’re not my favorite person right now, but to be honest, I was tiring of our little meet ups. I want a man who will hang out with me in the daylight.”
“You’re an amazing woman, Gayle.”
“Don’t patronize me. I’m no Poppy. That’s apparent.”
“No one is,” I mutter, burying my head in my hands.
“You going after her?”
“Yep. Right after I pay my tab.” My phone buzzes and I glance at it, hoping might be Poppy. It’s not. “Hey, Mom. What’s going on?”
My mother’s voice is thin on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Marissa is not feeling well. She’s running a temperature. Will you pick up some medicine at the store on your way home?”