Read Page 31

Woods

I walked into my house and went for my suitcase. Della had four hours left to come back to me. I was packing. I was going after her. She wasn't going to come back. She was scared, and I'd be damned if I was going to continue to let her think I didn't want her. Whatever reasons Braden had could go to hell. I was going to get my woman. I was going to make sure she damn well knew I loved her with all my heart.Advertisement

My phone rang and I froze. It could be her. She could be coming back. I was almost scared to hope. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. It was Tripp.

"Yeah," I said, then held my breath.

"Get your ass ready. She's coming back."

I sucked air into my lungs and threw my head back as my heart started beating again for the first time since she'd walked away from me. Della was coming back.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"She's packing her bag and telling Braden good-bye. I ain't gonna lie, dude. That was a tough scene in there. I was real damn close to telling her the truth and sending her back to you, but Braden is hard-core. She was determined that Della make this decision. When she broke and agreed to come back, even though she thinks you've moved on, it was emotional."

"What are you talking about? Why does she think I've moved on? What the hell does that mean?" Had Braden lied to her?

"She's convinced you're with someone else now. That the secret she can sense between me and Braden is that you've moved on to someone else. So, she's coming to Rosemary to win you back. She isn't just coming back to you---she's coming back thinking she has to fight for her man."

As much as I didn't want Della ever thinking I could even touch another woman, the idea of her coming to fight for me made me smile. "Are you bringing her?"

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"Yep," he replied.

"Bring her to my house. Drop her off and leave. I'll be here," I told him.

Tripp chuckled. "Ah, damn, you mean I don't get to watch the make-up sex?"

"Careful," I warned him as my mind started making plans. I had a lot to do before she got here. "Go rent a car. Use the money I just put in your account. Don't put her on the back of your bike again."

"I'm a good driver," Tripp argued.

"Don't give a shit. If I have to think about her arms wrapped around you one more time I'll lose it. I don't want her on the back of your bike. Ever. Again."

Tripp let out a sigh. "Fine. I'll rent a damn car."

"Bring her back to me safe. And hurry."

"Yes, sir. Gotta go, here she comes," he said.

I hung up and looked around my living room. It was time to start getting ready. She was coming back to me. I was going to make sure she never regretted it.

I dialed Jace's number. I needed Bethy's help.

"Hey."

"Bethy with you?" I asked as I began cleaning up the kitchen.

"Yeah, why?"

"I need her help. Give her the phone."

"Okaaay," he said. I heard him telling her it was me and that I needed her help.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Della is on her way back to me. I need rose petals. Where do I get a bunch of rose petals this late?"

Bethy squealed. "She's coming back! That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you!"

"Focus. I need rose petals," I told her as I put the last dish in the dishwasher and turned it on.

"I will get you rose petals. Don't worry about it. I'll be by in about an hour."

"Thanks," I told her before hanging up. I glanced over at the wall where the picture I'd smashed once hung.

I quickly dialed the next number on my list.

"Hey, Rob. I know it's late but the picture I brought you to frame---I need it. Now."

"It's not ready and I close in the next hour."

"A thousand dollars if you can get it to my place in two hours."

"Shit. Okay, yeah. I'll make it happen."

"Thanks."

Hanging up, I walked to the bedroom and started stripping the sheets. I hadn't changed them because they smelled like Della. My girl needed clean sheets. Once I had my room cleaned I dialed one more number.

"Boss?"

"Jimmy, I need your help. Close the dining room early. Tell everyone that there's a private member meeting or some shit. Just close it. I need the kitchen staff's help." pqdm.com