Page 164 of Tangled with the Tight End

When I glance over at Winona, I can’t help but smile. If I hadn’t been stuck in my house, I would have never gotten to know her the way I have. We might have met, but I wouldn’t have known her—and she wouldn’t have had the chance to steal my heart.

She’s quiet, focusing on the road.

“You really aren’t a morning person,” I say, obvious affection in my voice.

I wonder if I’ll always feel this rush around her—if every quirk and idiosyncrasy will endear me to her even more than before. Is there a limit to how much a man can feel for a woman or does it just get infinitely deeper and wider over time?

“I can be a morning person—under the right conditions. I’m probably part bear. The colder it gets outside, the more I want to hibernate. I’d just burrow in my cave, and you could call me out in March. But my cave has to have lots of soft pillows and an amazing comforter. Like your guest room.”

“So, you’re saying you want to hibernate in my guest room?” I tease.

“In a perfect world, yes.”

“What about my condo in Vail? Would you come out of your cave for that?”

“I make exceptions,” she says. “For Vail.” Her voice softens and she looks over at me. “And for you.”

We pull into the parking lot a few minutes later. I check in with the training staff and they direct me to an exam room. I’m one of the few players here this early. Winona walks through the space like she belongs here. No one questions her presence either. She’s my home health aide, after all. But I think most of them know she’s become so much more.

A training staff member helps me get situated on the exam table with my leg supported. Andrew, our orthopedic surgeon, comes in and walks through what he’s going to do. Then he turns on the cast saw. A loud buzz fills the room as he goes about cutting off my cast.

Winona’s in a chair along the wall, her eyes fixed on the procedure.

Cuts are made down both sides of my cast and then Andrew uses a cast spreader to gently pry the cast open. After he cuts through the cast padding, he pulls the cast off in two pieces.

My injured leg is noticeably smaller and lighter than my healthy one.

“Freedom,” Andrew pronounces. “Now, let’s get a solid look at how your healing has progressed.”

He checks the incision and then orders for the portable X-ray to be wheeled in.

X-rays are taken and Andrew reviews them with us.

“Everything looks good,” he says. “Let’s get you into a boot.”

He leaves me and Winona alone in the room to wait for my trainer.

“Nothing sexier than a man with two different-sized legs,” I say.

“It’s honestly the dry, flaky skin that does it for me,” Winona says.

I laugh and our eyes catch and hold. “You’re it for me, Winona.”

“Because I like a man with scales?” she teases.

“Because you’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re special.”

“Lots of people are special, Declan.”

She doesn’t get it. But I’m going to tell her until she does.

“Not like you.”

“Well, you’re pretty special too,” she says. “Not because you’re a professional athlete, either.”

Lynn comes in before I can respond, pushing a cart with a CAM boot on it. She walks me and Winona through the steps of putting it on and adjusting the air bladders. Then she adjusts my crutches and has me carefully walk a few steps.

Then I’m taken to PT to do some range of motion and basic gait training.