“Maybe he hasn’t met the right woman.” It’s my Hail Mary pass at this point.
“Honey, with the number of women lining up over the years, if there was a right woman, he would have met her. Besides, I overheard him saying it just last week.” She sighs, taking a sip of her drink. “Damn shame, if you ask me, but he’s set in his ways.”
And just like that, my Hail Mary pass is intercepted in the end zone. I knew what she was going to say. Gayle intimated something similar, but she seemed to believe I might be different. According to Amelia, his rules are still very much in play.
That knowledge just pushed me to the sidelines. “It was nice meeting you,” I manage, winding away from the bar and taking up residence by the edge of the dance floor.
“What happened to your hair?” Dylan asks behind me, pushing it over one shoulder. I can’t help but notice how close he stands now, the intimate grazes that are more presumptuous by the minute.
Squelching my innate disappointment, I point at Marissa, running across the dance floor and showing her new “crown” to everyone in the vicinity. “Your princess needed some extra sparkle.”
Dylan chuckles, his arm wrapping around me as he drops a kiss on my shoulder. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.”
“Well, I’d offer one to you, too, but you don’t have enough hair.” I turn to face him, forcing a grin.
Yes, I broke the intimate moment. It’s not that I don’t want Dylan’s affections. I do. Desperately. But my recently acquired knowledge about Dylan’s steadfast rules regarding love is a bitter pill to swallow. The man has made it clear, apparently to anyone who will listen, that he has no intention of remarrying or fathering more children.
Both are things I would love in my life. There’s no compromise in that situation. Only disappointment.
My disappointment.
I’ve suffered enough disappointment in my life to actively search it out.
Dylan runs a hand over his short buzz, shrugging at my pointed remark. “Hey, it’s easy. Besides, I was beginning to resemble an aging rocker. Not a good look.”
“Depends on the rocker,” I counter with a giggle. The truth is, I much prefer Dylan this way, but I enjoy ribbing him far too much to admit that fact.
A wolf whistle sounds out across the room, and I look up to catch Troy crossing the floor, a look of awe on his face. “Ms. Mills, you are a sight to behold. Hello, gorgeous.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“Thank you, Troy. Talk about overdressed.”
“In more ways than one,” Troy replies with a wink. The man has never been that brazen before. Flirtatious, yes. But this is next level.
I hear a growl behind me. Apparently his double entendre isn’t lost on Dylan. “Watch it,” he hisses, just loud enough for me to hear. I don’t need to turn around to know that Dylan is scorching Troy with his dark glare, warning him to back off.
“What?” Troy asks, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m simply admiring the most beautiful woman in the room. I’ve also noticed that she isn’t dancing and any woman wearing a dress like that needs to show it off.”
He extends his hand to me, but Dylan latches onto my digits, sending Troy yet another scowl. “She has a dance partner already.”
I offer Troy a sympathetic smile as Dylan leads me to the dance floor. But when his arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against him, I forget anything beyond him. Beyond this moment.
“Nobody dances with my girl but me,” Dylan murmurs, resting his forehead against mine.
That’s the issue. I want to be his girl, but not if that job description only means warming his bed and not earning a permanent slot in his life. I won’t be someone’s sex buddy. Not even Dylan’s.
“Who says I’m your girl?”
“I do. Don’t you want to be my girl?”
“One of many?” I know I’m pushing, but if he hopes to get lucky, he’d better cough up some answers.
Dylan’s face registers surprise at my bold question. “Poppy, you know how I feel.”
“I’m hearing conflicting stories.”
“Don’t listen to anyone’s stories but mine.”
“Ah, but they are your stories.”
Now his brow wrinkles in confusion. “Sunshine, let’s stop speaking in riddles, shall we? What do you want to know?”
The song ends to a smattering of applause, and Dylan is once again surrounded by local townspeople. I swear, he’s his own personal brand of rock star.
Dylan holds up a finger to one of the men who’s bending his ear. He leans down to me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “This conversation is not over, just paused while I deal with a few…emergencies.”
I nod, oddly relieved that they broke the moment. Part of me doesn’t want to hear his answer, because then, it will be real. All hope lost.
I like hope. I prefer keeping it alive as long as possible.
“No worries, Mr. Mayor. I’m walking down to the store. Paddington will need to go out.”
“I can walk you down there.”
“I’ll be fine. You deal with all of this.” I motion around the room, several pairs of eyes intent on his handsome visage. “You’re a popular guy.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” Dylan laughs. “Give me a little while and I’ll walk with you.”
“I’ve got it. Promise,” I reiterate. The truth is that I need the air, and some space from Dylan.
I have to figure out my next move, and whether Dylan and I should even continue playing this game. If his heart isn’t in it to win it, then my heart will surely be the loser.
Chapter 10
Dylan
I swear, women make no sense.
I watch Poppy walk from the great room, wishing like hell that I could rush after her, push her into the coat check room and have my way with her.
Instead, I’m saddled with an array of pressing crises, none of which are actually pressing. After a few minutes, I’ve had enough, excusing myself from the group.
After ensuring that my mother will keep an eye on Marissa, I head to the coat check. As I grab my jacket and throw it on, I can’t help but overhear a couple of the local women bantering. About me.
“He seems crazy about that one.”
“Mr. West doesn’t do relationships. You know that.”
I clench my jaw. I know those voices, especially since they work in my office. Susan and Amelia trading tales again. Leaning against the wall, I wait, curious how deep they’ll dig themselves.
I’m not stupid. I know the women of this town gossip about me and Troy. We’re eligible bachelors. We have good jobs, don’t do drugs, don’t abuse women, and we clean up pretty damn well. What has my back up is that Poppy now seems to be part of their conversation.
“I think it’s different with her.” I know Susan’s voice anywhere, and as per usual, she’s defending my honor. That woman deserves a raise.
“I don’t know about that. He showed up to the bar with Gayle just the other night. He can’t be too serious about her. At least, now she’s aware of the score.”