Page 202 of Tangled with the Tight End

“No,” he smiles a shy smile. “I ordered the outfit weeks ago. You like it?”

“I love it. There aren’t words for how much I like it.” I glance at him. “I think she needs a friend.”

“Yeah. I was thinking the same thing. He’s on order.”

“You ordered another porch goose?”

“She looked lonely.”

I laugh softly and stand on tiptoes to kiss Declan on the cheek.

I try to put the man with a camera at the end of the driveway out of my mind. But when I glance out the window panes flanking the front door, Declan’s gaze follows mine.

“Get comfortable in the front room,” he says. “I’ll be right there.”

I walk into the front room. The tallest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen fills one corner. It’s decked out with gorgeous matching ornaments in gold and cream and burgundy. White twinkle lights sparkle evenly from every branch. Obviously, Declan didn’t pick the tree or decorate it. Underneath the tree a few wrapped boxes are waiting to be opened. I place my gifts next to them.

Declan’s voice carries through from the kitchen. He’s calling the police to report the man outside.

He walks into the front room, smiling at me. It’s not his usually warm smile, even though he’s obviously happy to see me.

“Hey,” he says, coming to stand right in front of me where I’m staring into the flames crackling in the fireplace. “Let’s start this over.”

“Okay,” I say softly.

“Merry Christmas, Winona.”

“Merry Christmas, Declan.”

He leans in and kisses me. I wrap my arms around him and hold on tight. He tugs me to himself, holding me close. The sound of a siren in the distance cuts through the moment.

Declan pulls back, running his hand through his hair.

“It’s okay,” I say. “What a way for that guy to spend Christmas, right?”

Declan smiles at me, but it’s strained.

It’s not okay. We both know it’s not okay. A man followed me from my home to Declan’s. He invaded our privacy. And he’s not alone. We never know when someone will be lurking on the fringes. If they just wanted pictures, that would be bad enough, but they want to twist our relationship into something ugly.

I take a deep breath.

“I brought you gifts,” I say.

“I have some for you too. Let me cue up some Christmas music. Have a seat.”

I take a seat on the couch while Declan turns on a station that’s playing carols and holiday songs. I get the distinct feeling he’s trying to drown out whatever’s happening outside. And I’m all for shutting out the world so we can get back to what we’ve always been—just the two of us without any onlookers.

“How was this morning with Maeve and Patrick?” I ask.

“Great. Spending Christmas with kids is the way to go. They get so excited about every single thing.”

“Awww.”

For a moment, I allow myself to imagine Declan and me with our kids around the tree, or maybe we’re all at Patrick and Daisy’s or Maeve’s. My children would have cousins.

Declan steps out of the room and comes back carrying a basket wrapped in cellophane.

“What’s this?” I ask, crossing my legs underneath me and reaching my hands out for the massive basket.