Page 140 of Tangled with the Tight End

But she really doesn’t see how she outshines every other woman.

I reach over, running my hand down her hair and then down her arm. A new mission forms in my mind. I’m going to make her see what I see. It might take a while, but I’m determined. And nothing stops me when I set my sights on a goal.

I lean across the console and kiss her cheek, hoping my affection tells her everything she needs to know.

She’s the type of woman a man builds a life with.

The thought sneaks up on me: I want to be that man.

Chapter 22

Winona

There is no surprise more magical

than the surprise of being loved.

~ Charles Morgan

The drive down Salt Lick Road gives me time to think. My radio is on, and I’m singing along, but my mind is elsewhere—on Declan.

The farther I get from town, the prettier Tennessee becomes. The trees are putting on their fall show. Some still have a smattering of green, but most have gone gold and orange, with a few maples showing off in shades of red.

The morning air is crisp with the kind of bite that makes me want to curl up near a fire—one fire in particular would be nice. A smile spreads across my face as I replay our kisses that first night over again for the thousandth time.

Why me? What does he see?

He’s so all in, it’s surprising.

I had no idea he felt anything for me but a kind of friendship born out of our constant time together. But since we kissed, Declan’s been making every effort to show me how much he cares about me—constantly touching me, kissing me when I least expect it, saying the sweetest things about me. It’s all so completely beyond what I ever imagined.

The feelings I have for Declan don’t fit into an easy description. I’ve never felt this way before. I love Cass and my parents, and my friends, of course. But just thinking of Declan sends my heart racing. It’s a good kind of racing—a mixture of hope, attraction and nerves. I’m pretty sure those nerves will settle over time.

He’s so much more than anyone knows. There’s a side to him he only shows me—or at least that’s how it seems—warm, caring, funny. He jokes with his team and with Patrick, but the way he is with me is different. I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that he said we’re dating. Nonchalant and absolute. As if it were not even up for question. My smile takes over my face again. I guess I’m just going to have to get used to going through the world with an exaggerated grin on my face for a while.

I turn onto Old Man Calhoun’s gravel driveway. I’ve been coming here two days a week over the past few weeks since he broke his hip and had a replacement surgery. The barn door is open. The sky above it is impossibly blue. The smell of woodsmoke and animals fills the air when I hop out of my car and approach the barn.

“Mr. Calhoun!” I shout when I get closer.

The scene should not surprise me. At least he’s using his walker.

“What are you doing?” I ask, even though the answer is plain to both of us.

“Oh! Winona. Well, you see … I was just grabbing down a little feed.”

I pop my hand on my hip. “What did the doctor say about lifting after your surgery?”

“Doctors don’t run farms.”

“But they do run farmers. They know what’s best. Do you want to end up hurting yourself?”

“I’ve been hauling feed my whole life, long before you were born.”

“That bag might weigh more than I do.”

“Not unless you weigh twenty-nine pounds.” He humphs as if he made his point.

“I know you’ve been running this farm forever.” I drop my hand and walk over toward him. “And I respect you for it. But for the time being, you aren’t supposed to lift more than five pounds. The Lawson boys said they’d come over. Why don’t you let them?”