Page 90 of Tangled with the Tight End

“Chantal,” I groan. “You heard that, huh?”

“You have to respect a woman who knows what she wants and goes for it.”

“Do you, though?” I ask.

Winona laughs. “What’s not to like, Declan? She’s beautiful. She seems articulate. She knows football.”

“She’s not my type,” I say firmly.

I stare at Winona. She’s slightly disheveled at the end of the day, her hair wilder than normal. She looks tired in a way that makes me want to tug her into my arms and hold her until she falls asleep on my chest.

Her gentle eyes meet mine. They’re softer at this hour, especially after a long day.

I’m a half-second away from saying, “You’re my type,” but I hold my tongue.

Chapter 14

Winona

People often say that you've got to ‘let it all out.’

But keeping your feelings to yourself

is often an act of strength and endurance.

~ Unknown

The sound of laughter rings through Moss and Maple when Cass and I open the door to our book club gathering. I breathe in the smell of cinnamon and old books and sigh, shifting the object in my arm a little so I don’t drop it.

Cass turns to me. “You’re honestly bringing that thing to book club.”

“What’s wrong with her?” I ask.

“Her?”

“She loves book clubs.”

Cass laughs and shakes her head. “I love you, Winona. Don’t ever change.”

“If I were going to change, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” I assure her. Then I affect a Popeye accent and twist my mouth sideways. “I yam what I yam.”

She pulls me into a side hug. “I won the sister lottery.”

“I thought I won that,” I tell her.

We’re not exactly opposites, but we’re pretty close. Cass knows how to have fun and let loose, but whatever made her push her way into the world before me is the way she lives life—taking charge, speaking her mind, always looking out for the people she loves. She’s only got a minute and a half on me, but she’s definitely the firstborn.

“Meet Geese Witherspoon,” I say, holding up the twenty-one inch ceramic goose who is currently sporting a miniature brown bob wig, glasses and a prim dress. “She loves book clubs.”

Every head in the room swivels to look at the goose in my arms. They smile, but no one looks alarmed or put out. They’re used to me.

I set Geese in the middle of the coffee table. “I’m giving her to Declan. To cheer him up.”

“You’re giving Declan that?” Sydney says.

Now the shocked and appalled expressions erupt on every single face.

“Yeah. Why?”