Chapter Seven
Hollis
“That will be twenty-eight dollars, please,” Poppy announces, helping me ring in our final customer of the day who happens to be Mrs. Bufford, the elderly woman who owns the candy shop across the street with her husband.
She pays Poppy with cash, giving the exact change before slipping her an extra dollar. “And here’s a little something just for you.”
Poppy’s face lights up at the shiny gold coin. “Wow, really? Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” The older woman nods. “I can tell you’re a hard worker and that should be rewarded, especially at your age.”
“She’s a very hard worker,” I add, knowing she deserves all the praise.
Poppy has been coming here for almost a week now and she has been an absolute pleasure to have around. Her kind heart, bright spirit, and love for Christmas are felt by everyone who walks through that door. Her presence is cherished by all, especially me.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Bufford.” She jumps off the stool she stands on and runs around the counter, giving the older woman a hug.
“You’re very welcome, dear.” Mrs. Bufford smiles, returning her embrace. “Just don’t go spending that all in one place now, ya hear?” she adds, giving her a pointed look.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Poppy promises. “I’m going to put it in my piggy bank. I’ve started saving for something big.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Bufford inquires thoughtfully. “And what might that be?”
I listen closely as I begin cashing out, finding myself just as curious.
“A trip to California!”
Her confession brings a smile to my face. I should have known.
“I’ve always wanted to go because of Disneyland,” she explains, “but I don’t care about that anymore. Now, I just want to go so I can still see Hollis after she leaves.”
My heart stutters to a stop, pausing me mid-task. To know she wants to see me even after I leave fills me with warmth. It means she has grown as fond of me as I have of her.
“Wow, that is big,” Mrs. Bufford muses, clearly impressed, “And expensive,” she adds, her soft chuckle floating through the store. “In that case, you’re gonna need a few more dollars.”
Poppy gasps at the five-dollar bill she’s handed, jumping up and down in excitement.
Her reaction prompts a shared smile between Mrs. Bufford and me.
After several more thank-yous, Poppy sees the elderly woman out the door, flipping the open sign to closed, before skipping back over.
“I can’t believe she gave me six whole bucks,” she says, settling back onto the stool next to me. “That sure was nice of her.”
“It was,” I agree. “But she’s right, you deserve it. You’re a hard worker and very good at your job.”
A sense of pride adopts her sweet face. “You really think so?”
“I know so.”
My praise has her beaming from ear to ear. “Thanks. Want to split the money?” she asks, holding out the six dollars to me. “You work hard too.”
My heart warms at the offer. This nine-year-old girl is more thoughtful than most adults I know. “No. You go ahead and keep it.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “You’re going to need it for when you come visit me,” I add with a smile, playfully nudging her shoulder.
“You ain’t kidding,” she says, stuffing the money into her pocket. “I’ve already looked it up on my tablet, and let me tell you, flights don’t come cheap these days.”
“They sure don’t,” I laugh, unable to deny the truth of that statement.
“I’m not worried about it, though,” she says, her small voice brimming with determination. “It might take a while, but I’ll get there. I just hope I can convince Mountie Mike to take a vacation. That’s gonna be the tricky part.”
I have to agree, especially when he finds out that vacation involves seeing me.
The two of us haven’t spoken much since the night he drove me home. While he no longer eyes me with such contempt, he is far from friendly. He keeps any and all interactions between us to a minimum, making pick-ups generally quick, which is probably for the best because the way my hormones respond to that man is downright ridiculous. It doesn’t help that I often find myself thinking back to the warning he gave me in his truck a week ago. It lingers in my mind, playing on a loop.
For the record, Hollis, I don’t wear panties. Actually, I don’t wear underwear at all, and if you don’t want me to prove it by bringing you over here to ride my cock, I suggest you watch what falls from that pretty mouth of yours.
I should have been furious over that threat, but I wasn’t, far from it. Instead, it made body parts tingle that shouldn’t have been tingling; made me question things I have no business questioning.
Does he really not wear underwear? Does he genuinely find my mouth pretty? Does he want me to…ride his cock?
I’ve done nothing but obsess over these questions, and it has made me realize I need some serious therapy. It’s the first thing I plan to do when I get back home.
Pushing aside my unsettling thoughts, I refocus on the matter at hand. “Well, if anyone can convince your brother to take a vacation, it’s you.”
I truly mean that. The love he has for his sister is undeniable.
“I sure hope so, because if you ask me, the guy could use one.”
He could probably benefit from a few vacations, but I decide to keep that to myself.
“He also deserves it,” she adds, her voice softening with affection. “Especially after all he does for me.” Her face lifts to mine, the love she has for her brother prominent in every feature. “I know he seems like a real grouch sometimes, but he isn’t, at least not all the time. He’s actually a really good guy. The best I’ve ever known.”
Guilt strikes deep that she feels the need to defend him to me. “Oh, Poppy. You don’t need to convince me your brother’s a good person. I can tell that all on my own.”
Despite our turbulent encounters, I’ve always been able to see the good. His unwavering dedication to his sister speaks volumes about his character, and so does his profession. He also didn’t have to help cover my tab at the bar, but he did. Heck, even giving me that stupid snowbrush was a nice gesture. Not that I’ve needed it, since every morning I walk out to find my car has already been swept clean.
At first, I thought it was Mr. Gentry, my elderly neighbor who I share the duplex with. He’s always up shoveling first thing in the morning, but when I thanked him, he had no idea what I was talking about. Neither did any of my other neighbors.
Now, I can’t help but wonder if it might be a certain grumpy officer. It seems unlikely, given his feelings toward me, but he’s the only person I can think of who would go to such ridiculous lengths to make sure my windshield is clear. What I don’t understand is, why? Why do this for someone you don’t particularly care for? It doesn’t make any sense. Then again, little about that man makes sense.
“Really, you can tell that?” Poppy’s hopeful tone breaks through my reverie.
“Yep. Want to know how?”
She nods, curiosity brightening her eyes.
“By how amazing you are.”
The sweetest smile illuminates her face. “Thanks, Hollis.” She wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m glad you know my brother isn’t a complete butthead.”
A chuckle escapes me as I hug her back.
At one time, I did think he was a major butthead, but now I think he might just be a grump who loves his little sister.
Poppy breaks our embrace, looking up at me expectantly. “So, what do you want to do now?”
Checking the time, I see we still have an hour before Mike shows up. “How about dinner?” I suggest. “I heard the pizza place down the street is good.”
“Oh yes. Rocky Mountain Flatbread is the best,” she exclaims, her excitement fueling my own.
“Then it’s settled, we’ll grab a quick bite and be back before your brother even realizes we were gone.”
“Sounds good to me!” She jumps off the stool and begins the process of putting on her winter gear.
While she busies herself with that, I lock up the register, switch off the lights, and retrieve my coat from the back. By the time I return, she’s just finishing pulling on her hat.
“Ready?” I ask, excited for this little adventure with her.
“Ready, Freddy.”
Smiling, I take her outstretched hand and head for the door. We only make it a few steps before it swings open, revealing the one man who has the power to stir emotions in me like no other, the sight of him bringing us to a halt.
Our eyes lock in a time-stopping moment, igniting a spark that sends a jolt straight to my heart. I’m held captive by its magnetic pull, lost in an undeniable current that promises to consume me entirely.
“What the heck are you doing here?” Poppy’s accusing tone breaks our connection. “You’re not supposed to pick me up for another hour.”
“Nice to see you too,” he grunts, clearly unfazed by her less-than-stellar greeting. “I manage to get off early for once, and this is the greeting I get?”
That explains why he’s not in uniform like usual. Instead, he effortlessly rocks a pair of dark-wash jeans and a red and black plaid jacket that’s left casually unzipped, despite the icy weather. Beneath it, a black Henley clings to his athletic frame, the waffle-knit fabric accentuating every hard line it conceals.
It should be illegal to look this good, especially in something so casual.
“Look, I’m happy for you,” Poppy retorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Truly, I am, but you have bad timing because Hollis and I are about to head out for dinner.”
He raises a brow. “That so?”
“Yes,” she replies, her tone firm. “So, you have two choices: join us or come back for me later. Your call.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, attempting to hide my smile. I bet she is the only person who can get away with speaking to him like this.
“Damn, that’s too bad,” Mike sighs, feigning disappointment. “Guess I better go return the surprise I have for you in my truck then, huh?”
Poppy perks up next to me, her interest piqued. “Surprise? What kind of surprise?”
He waves off her curiosity. “It’s not important. You go enjoy dinner. I’m sure I can get my money back.” He turns his back on us with the pretense of leaving.
“Not so fast, mister!” Poppy charges forward, crashing right into him. “It’s a Christmas tree, isn’t it?” she guesses eagerly.
He tortures her further with a nonchalant shrug.
“Tell me, right now,” she demands through a laugh, tugging on his jacket.
Amusement forms on his expression. “Go see for yourself.”
Poppy runs back to my side, grabbing my hand. “Come on, Hollis. Let’s go see what it is.”
I jog alongside her, unable to suppress my laugh as she tugs me past Mike.
The two of us share a brief smile, the exchange simple yet powerful, before I’m jerked out the door into the frigid air.
“What the…?” Poppy comes to a sudden stop, nearly causing me to collide into her back.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, looking down at her.
She points ahead, her eyes wide with disbelief. My gaze follows her finger, and I wince at the sight of the tangled mess strapped to the back of Mike’s truck in what I’m assuming is supposed to be a Christmas tree, though calling it that feels generous. It looks more like a gnarled root with a few desperate twigs.
Yikes!
Mike strides out behind us, his chest puffed out with pride as he stands next to his surprise. “So, what do you think?”
Poppy’s delicate nose scrunches in distaste. “What is it?”
He frowns at the question. “What do you mean? It’s the Christmas tree you’ve been asking for.”
Walking closer, she gingerly picks up one of the barren branches, inspecting it with a critical eye. “Where did you get it, the dump?”
Mike bristles, clearly offended. “What? No! I got it at a tree farm north of town. It happened to be the most expensive one on the lot, thank you very much.”
Dropping the broken branch, Poppy turns to her brother, looking him dead in the eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been taken like a chump.”
He straightens at the harsh words. “The hell I was. What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s deader than a doornail, Mike,” she says, putting it bluntly.
“It is not. It just looks like this right now, but it will be fine once it’s decorated.”
I’m not sure who he is trying to convince more now, her or himself.
Poppy turns to me, looking for support. “Tell him, Hollis.”
Mike stares at me expectantly, waiting for validation.
I shift uncomfortably, hating to add insult to injury.
“Go on,” Poppy urges gently, nudging me forward. “Tell him.”
Clearing my throat, I summon the courage to speak the truth. “I think it may have some nutrient deficiencies.”
My words finally have him accepting defeat. “Shit,” the curse hisses past his lips as he pushes away from his truck. “Can’t even buy a damn Christmas tree without being taken like a chump.”
Poppy pats his arm, offering support. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll go get another one, and this time, I’ll make sure they know exactly who they’re dealing with.”
The way she tries to console him is both sweet and amusing.
“There isn’t anymore,” Mike tells her, expression grim. “I went to three other tree farms before this one, and this was the best they had. Turns out, Annemarie’s mom isn’t the only nut job who puts her tree up early.”
I have no idea when Annemarie’s mom put their tree up, but I wouldn’t exactly consider this early.
“So, what are we going to do?” Poppy asks, a note of concern edging her voice.
“What about an artificial tree?” I suggest. “I have a spare one in the back you’re welcome to have.”
Poppy ponders the idea. “We’ve never had one of those before,” she reflects thoughtfully, looking up at her brother. “Might be the way to go. That way, we’ll always have a tree, and you can save yourself the humiliation of being taken like a chump.”
Mike grunts at her playful jab but ultimately agrees. “All right. Go ahead and ring it up. I’ll use this one for firewood.”
I dismiss his offer with a flick of my hand. “Don’t worry about paying for it. You can just have it.”
His gaze sharpens in disapproval. “We’re not doing this, Hollis. Ring it up.”
My back stiffens at the demand, eyes narrowing. “There’s no price for it, Mike, since it was last year’s display model.”
“Then make a price for it,” he snaps, refusing to back down. “I’m not just taking it.”
God, he’s infuriating. Hot too, but mostly infuriating.
“Can we argue about this over pizza please?” Poppy interjects. “I’m starving.”
Guilt quickly plagues me for arguing in front of her.
Mike backs down, clearly feeling the same. “How about we get it to go?” he suggests, his tone softer. “It’s getting late, and it’ll take time to unload everything.”
Poppy nods her agreement. “That’s fine. As long as Hollis can come too.”
I quickly decline the offer, not wanting to intrude. “Oh, no, that’s okay. You guys go ahead. We’ll grab pizza another time.”
“No, I want you to come too,” Poppy insists. “Please? It’ll be fun. We can decorate the tree, eat pizza, have hot chocolate, and maybe even watch a Christmas movie.”
Her excitement is infectious, sparking a genuine smile from me. As lovely as it sounds, I know I can’t accept.
I’m just about to let her down gently when Mike intervenes. “You should come.”
My gaze snaps to his, surprise coursing through me. I search his expression, trying to decipher if he’s just being polite.
“I can bring you back to your car after we finish,” he adds, as if sensing my thoughts.
“Please?” Poppy begs, her hands folded in a pleading gesture.
A smile touches my lips as I relent. “Okay. I’ll come. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Yay!” Poppy cheers, fist-pumping the air.
We head inside to retrieve the tree and discover a treasure trove of other decorations waiting to be used. Garland, lights, and ornaments are scattered about, beckoning to be brought to life. I gather them all, much to Mike’s dismay, then we set off on what promises to be an eventful evening.