I bristle at her statement. What damn score?
“What did you tell her?” Susan questions.
“That Dylan West won’t get serious about any woman, not even her. I did it to protect her. She seems like a good person, and I could tell she was really disappointed about Dylan’s rules.”
Okay, that’s enough.
“Good evening, ladies,” I stroll over, a fake as hell grin on my face. “I couldn’t help overhearing your topic of conversation.”
“Hi, Dylan,” Amelia murmurs, her cheeks turning a vivid shade of red.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret. Just because I haven’t gotten involved with any of the women in Yuletide Acres, doesn’t mean that I’m off the market. I would appreciate it if you would keep that in mind and not ruin my chances with Ms. Mills.”
“But…you always said…” Now she’s stammering, falling over her words.
“Here’s the thing. Poppy isn’t just any woman. For me, she’s every woman. Got it? Enjoy your evening.”
I turn and stalk outside, leaving Amelia gaping and Susan snickering.
What can I say? The truth hurts. But I’ll be damned if some former truths hurt the woman I love.
Now I can add damage control to my list of errands tonight.
But first, I need to catch up with Poppy. I hate that she left without me. I know Yuletide Acres is a safe town, but she’s tiny and I’m overprotective where she’s concerned.
“Heading out?”
I look to my left, shaking my head at Troy as he snuffs out his cigarette. “When are you going to quit that shit?”
He shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “I don’t do it that often. Hey, got a lead on those tracks.”
“At Poppy’s cabin?”
“Yeah, it seems some psycho out of Bozeman is on the lam and they believe he might have headed this way.”
My heart drops. “Wait, there’s a madman on the loose? I have to get to Poppy.” I hustle across the parking lot.
“Where is she?”
“She went to her store to walk the dog.” I don’t like the feeling of dread spreading throughout my body. Hopefully, I’m being paranoid.
Then a female scream pierces the night, echoing down the snowy main corridor. My throat tightens when I realize who that scream belongs to—Poppy.
Troy and I exchange a glance before dashing down the road. Thankfully, everyone is at the party, and the street is easier to traverse than the sidewalks. We both slip and damn near fall on our asses as we bolt toward the sound of the scream.
Another cry, and I push myself harder, sprinting the last few yards to Poppy’s store.
There is Poppy, pinned into a corner by a hulking man. I grab the scruff of his shirt and pull him away, tossing him to the ground. I’m a big guy at 6’1”, but this guy was bigger. Lucky for me, I’m running on pure adrenaline.
The stranger lumbers to his feet, taking a swing at my face, which I easily evade. Then, recalling one of my high school football tackles, I grasp him around the waist, leveling him.
Troy is at my side, grasping my arm before I can swing it at the attacker’s head. “Stop, Dylan. I’ve got this guy. Go check on Poppy.”
Poppy. My beautiful Sunshine Girl sits huddled in the corner, balled up in the fetal position. I kneel in front of her, wiping her tears with my thumbs. “Hey, Sunshine, let me look at you. Are you hurt? Did that son of a bitch hurt you?”
Poppy shakes her head, averting her eyes as she wipes her face with the heel of her hand.
I grab her to me, helping her to a standing position. Bringing her under the streetlamp, I give her a once over. Aside from a scraped knee and torn dress, she seems intact. Physically, at least.
“I’m taking this piece of crap to the station,” Troy gestures at the man, now sedate in handcuffs. “Poppy, I’ll need you to come down and make a statement.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” I ask, peeling off my coat and wrapping it around her shoulders as her entire body trembles.
Troy pauses, his glance moving between me and Poppy. “Yeah. He’s not going anywhere tonight. You’ll take care of Poppy?”
I tighten my grip on her, feeling her cling to me. “Of course. I’m taking her home.”
Troy is shaking his head before I’ve finished my sentence. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t know if this guy is working alone. Or if it’s even the same person who’s been tailing her.”
I hold up my hand, slowing my buddy’s roll. “My home. She’s staying with me.”
Poppy pulls her head from my chest, those huge hazel eyes wide with anxiety. “I can’t ask that of you. I’ll just go home. It’s fine.”
“Like hell you will. Not happening, Poppy.”
Troy nods as the patrol car pulls up to escort the assailant to the jail. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I know anything. Poppy, go home with Dylan. That’s an order.” With a final jerk of his chin, he leaves with the deputy.
“I have the dog and cat with me. They’re in there and I can’t leave them here.” She points through the window into her store, not that she needed to remind me of Paddington’s presence. He hasn’t stopped barking, aware that someone is hurting his mistress.
“Well, then, I guess I have a dog and cat now. Listen, we can argue all night, but it’s cold and you need a stiff drink and a warm bath. However, if you still want to argue, I’ll get my mother down here. You won’t stand a chance against her.”
Poppy pauses, her eyes fixed on a distant point. After a few moments, she relents, nodding her head. “I’ll get the fur babies and follow you.”
“No dice on that either.” I fish my phone from my pocket, calling my mother to drive down here and fetch Poppy. “She’ll be right here.”
But instead of looking relieved, she only looks more distressed. “I’m sorry I ruined your night.”
I tip her chin up, pushing a few stray hairs from her face. “You didn’t ruin anything. And the night isn’t over yet. But let’s get you home and warm. You’re not used to the Montana cold yet.”
“How do you know?”
I point at her stilettos and bare leg peeking through the side slit. “While that’s an absolutely delicious sight, it’s also impractical as hell up here.”
Poppy releases a sigh and a shrug. “I wanted to look pretty for you. Now look at me.”
“You failed in that endeavor. You’re not pretty, Poppy. You’re beautiful.”
She picks at her gown, fingering the torn material.
“I’ll get your dress to the seamstress. She can fix it.”
She shakes her head, her chest heaving. “It’s not that. I have pepper spray in my purse. I was attacked years ago, and I promised myself after that incident that I would be prepared. I would be aware.” More tears drip from her round eyes, but she doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “I never saw him coming.”
“He planned it that way. If he is who Troy and I think he is, he’s got a record, Poppy. It isn’t your fault you didn’t see some psycho waiting for you.” I pause, almost hesitant to ask the other question. “I didn’t know someone attacked you. Was it in Eugene?”