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“You start by apologizing. Making it up to her. For three years. you have made that woman wait. I suppose the only saving grace you’ve got is that you didn’t take any other woman, unless you’re about to tell me you’ve been screwing half of the pack females?”
“Never.” Just the thought of touching another female sent a shudder of revulsion down his spine. The only woman he wanted was Misha. She was his everything.
“Good, then you don’t have to win her back due to being unfaithful. What you need to decide before you go ahead with this is if this is really what you want,” his father said.
“Yes.”
“Son, you took three years to get to this point.”
“You keep reminding me of that.”
“For good reason. Three years is a long time. A very long time. Many moons. A lot of bad memories to build up. Think about it.”
He sighed. “I’ve thought about it, and I get it. I was a dick to her, but I will make it up to her.” There was no way he could allow another night to go by when Misha looked … broken. No, he couldn’t be the one responsible for that. He needed her to smile. To see the love glistening in her eyes.
What he didn’t tell his father was that even though he’d avoided seeing the pack members face to face, he’d gotten several calls of concern about Misha. The pack was worried about her. They cared about her. He did as well. He more than cared.
He loved her.
Running his fingers through his hair, he felt a tightening in his gut. “What do I do?” he asked.
“Apologize. Don’t give up, and if Misha gives you hell, accept it. You have put her through it. It’s time for you to feel it a little as well.”
Feel it?
He’d been feeling it. It wasn’t like he’d rejected her and lived a great life. He thought he was doing the right thing, but seeing her now, he knew the right thing was to finally win her back.
Even though, in the back of his mind, he was a little afraid she would end up like his mother.
Chapter Six
“What are these?” Misha asked.
“They’re flowers.”
Misha looked at Peter, the son of the florist, and then she frowned, glancing at the delivery.
“Why?”
“There’s a card,” he said. “I don’t know who they are from. I only deliver the orders.”
Blueberry rounded the counter and took the flowers from Peter. “Thank you. How is your mother?”
“She is good, miss. Thank you for the tonic you drew. She’s feeling much improved.”
“Please tell her to come and see me and I’ll check her over,” Blueberry said.
Misha looked at the flowers as if they were filled with gunfire.
The sound of the bell ringing brought her attention back, and she saw Peter had gone.
“What do you think this is all about?” Misha asked, pointing at the flowers.
“Normal people open the card and read who they are from,” Blueberry said.
She rolled her eyes and reached for the card. Opening the envelope, she pulled out the card and snorted. “It’s from Decker.”
“What does it say?”
“‘I’m sorry for everything. Would you have dinner with me tonight?’ That’s it. That’s all he said.”
“He wants to have dinner with you, and you’re not dancing from the rooftops.”
Misha dropped the card to the counter. “Dinner? Now? After all this time? Ugh, no. Not happening.” She reached into her pocket for her cell phone.
“What are you doing?” Blueberry asked.
“Calling Peter back. I have a special request.”
Peter accepted her call on the second ring.
“Peter, hi, sorry to bother you. Could you come back to the shop? It’s Misha.”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.”
“Excellent.” She hung up and grabbed a pen.
“I don’t want to watch this, do I?” Blueberry asked.
“I’m not going to do anything bad. Believe me.” She declined his offer, put the card back into the envelope, and placed it within the flowers.
Stepping back, she flicked the pen against her leg just as Peter walked in.
“Hi, Peter, I would like you to return these to sender, which is Decker Masters. Will that be okay?” Misha asked.
“Er, I, er, we never return flowers.”
“But you do have a return policy?” Misha asked. “I can pay for the delivery?”
“No, no, that’s fine. You want me to return the flowers to the alpha?”
“Yes.” She gave Peter a smile.
He looked pale.
“He won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Peter nodded, but he still didn’t look happy. He grabbed the flowers and left the shop.
“That poor boy looked close to a heart attack,” Blueberry said.
“The alpha won’t hurt him.”
“We both know that, but does Peter? No one has given the alpha bad news before. Rejecting his flowers, did you want to do that?” Blueberry asked.
“Yes.” She wasn’t going to accept his flowers or his dinner invitation.
Decker felt guilty. She didn’t want his attention out of guilt.
