Page 238 of Tangled with the Tight End

“He means well. He’s used to leading a team of men.”

“And they put up with that?”

I shrug. They do. But they give him plenty of heat too. The team banters more than two main characters in an enemies-to-lovers romcom.

Cass wraps her arm around me. “Don’t fret. We’re going to be grown-ups. Or … I will be. I have no intention of ruining this amazing trip.”

She looks over at Declan who has pulled his suitcase and mine off the carousel and is smiling over at me.

“You won the boyfriend lottery,” Cass says. “Hosting you and me … and Daisy and Patrick and his friends on this trip? Who does that?”

“Declan,” I say, trying to keep my voice from sounding too airy.

“Exactly,” Cass says. “Boyfriend lottery.” She gives me a squeeze.

Daisy and Patrick walk over to us, pulling their suitcases behind them.

“This is amazing!” Patrick says. “Did you see the color of the water when we were landing?”

“You’ve never been here?” I ask.

“Never,” he says. “Getting time away from the station is hard enough. Lining my breaks up with Declan’s schedule is nearly impossible.”

“I’m so glad it worked out this time,” I say.

Declan walks over. “Are you all ready? The cars are here to drive us to the villa.”

“The villa,” I say, putting on a fake wealthy accent. “How posh.”

He shakes his head. “It’s really not that posh. Just a basic four-bedroom house with a pool.”

Cass leans over and whispers into my ear. “Somehow I get the feeling there’s nothing basic about this place.”

“Well,” I whisper back, still in my fake-rich accent. “We’ll make do. After all, it does only have four bedrooms.”

Cass giggles.

Declan glances between us. “Are you two making fun of me?”

“Definitely,” I say, smiling over at him.

His eyes twinkle and his dimple pops with his smile. I want to kiss him, but I don’t—obviously. We’re standing around an airport with our family and friends.

Marcus drags Cass’s bag over to where we’re standing. “Here you go,” he says.

“Thank you,” she says with a cordial smile that looks like she’s half constipated.

“Cass,” I whisper.

“I thanked him,” she says. “And yes. Fine. It was thoughtful of him to grab my bag.”

I smile prematurely.

And then she adds, “I mean, it’s not like I was given a choice.”

“Is Marcus misbehaving?” Declan asks me.

Cass overhears. “He’s behaving perfectly.”