Page 18 of 50 Ways to Win Back Your Lover

So yeah. As soon as possible, I’m heading to Windfall and Delilah’s shop, Sugar and Sips. Earning her trust won’t be easy, but I’m up for the challenge. I was built to love Delilah Moon. Already, I start a mental list of ways to prove my faith, love, and loyalty to her—Fifty Ways to Win Back Delilah—beginning with my first three winners:

Be consistent so she learns to trust me.

Convince Delilah to believe my unbelievable WITSEC story.

Remind Delilah how well I know her by brewing her favorite blueberry tea.

Life’s about to learn who’s back in control.

SEVEN

You know that special sensation when you revisit a place from your childhood or teen years, and nostalgia trickles through you like a sip of hot chocolate on a cold day? I experience none of that cozy delight. The second my truck passes the Windfall WELCOME TO PARADISE road sign, I sink lower in my driver’s seat.

I’m a big guy. Not as jacked up as Cal or Jake or Desmond, who hit the gym to work out a portion of their angst. I run long and hard instead, letting the pounding of my feet drown the relentless pounding of my thoughts. While I’m not the beefiest Bower boy, I’m the tallest, and I tell you, hiding my six-foot-four frame while driving is no easy task. I’m slouched so low my knees are jammed against my truck’s dash, my shoulders are hiked toward my ears, and the steering wheel is cutting off airflow to my lungs. Anxiety rising, I call Lennon.

“Miss me already?” he says after one ring.

“Tell me again this plan will work.”

“This plan will work.”

So easy for him to predict from the comfort of his armchair. “If someone recognizes me, word will spread that I’m back, and I might get accosted in Delilah’s shop. Getting reamed out in front of her won’t do me any favors.”

“Maybe the gossip hounds aren’t as voracious as they used to be.”

“Do you not remember this town at all?”

Windfall isn’t just the place where I met and fell in love with Delilah Moon. Aside from the farms and forests surrounding the area and the pretty multicolored houses brightening the historic downtown core, this is a town built on gossip, held together by back-fence whispers and did-you-hear-that-oh-my-God-I-swear-it’s-true hearsay.

Honestly, the rumor mill in Windfall is legendary.

The time I cheated on my grade-five math test—because math—I got off the school bus thirty minutes later, thinking I pulled off the crime of the century. (An achievement Dad surpassed with zeal.) One step down our country road, my mother was there with her you-puked-on-my-azaleas face. Apparently, Lexi Davies saw me reading the answers I’d written on my hand, and she told Abby Jiang who told Zara White who told Taylor Hilroy who told her mother, who did quilting with mine, that I cheated. I had to clean the second-floor bathroom for four weeks. Five boys used the one shared toilet, and Desmond, who has lactose intolerance, insisted on eating grilled cheese regularly that month, the fucker. I still have PTSD.

That’s why I’m driving with my eyes barely above my steering wheel, my tall body painfully scrunched. Word gets around this town faster than wildfire on a gusty day, and I need to talk to Delilah without angry townsfolk bursting into her shop with pitchforks.

“You should’ve come too,” I tell Lennon. “I need a decoy to draw attention away from me.”

“Um.” He laughs haltingly. “Hard no. This is your thing. Your mission. I’m never going back to Windfall.”

I park on Third Street, a residential road away from prying eyes, and frown at Lennon’s comment. “You don’t want to come back?” I ask, confused.

“No point,” he says quickly. “My business is here, and Windfall’s in the past.” His octave rises, and I swear to God if I could see him, his eyelid would be twitching like it does when he lies to me.

“But you always say Windfall’s the best town in the world. You love the hiking trails and town festivals. You complain about how hot Houston gets, and if you moved your business here, you probably wouldn’t struggle so much making ends meet. The summer influx of second-home owners would eat up what you do.”

“Whatever. I don’t know what I said before. Just don’t want to move again, asswad.”

Hello, defensiveness. Lennon’s so full of shit about his reasons for not returning to Windfall that our old septic tank would be jealous of him. If I had to bet, there’s someone here he’s nervous about seeing again, and there’s no ex I know about.

Am I curious? Absolutely.

Do I have time to drive back to Houston and CSI his room for clues? Not even a little.

“I’m still worried,” I say. “Showing up like this will be hard on Delilah. Maybe I should’ve called first. Given her a heads-up.” It’s been three weeks since I’ve seen her. Her anger and shock might have grown, not lessened.

“Nope. Calling would only give her the chance to tell you to fuck off. Shock and awe is the better tactic. Ooh-rah,” he adds, like he’s in the marines.

I’m not sure why I rely on Lennon for advice on women. Goes to show how desperate I am. “I’ll head to her shop before I find the apartment I rented. Not give myself a chance to chicken out.”