Page 166 of Tangled with the Tight End

“I might stay here and join Maeve and Patrick.”

“We understand them staying in Waterford, Declan,” Dad says. “They have their own families now. Your mother is planning her annual party. There will be plenty of people who want to see you.”

It’s not posed as a question or an option.

“People like Snow, Diamond and Chantal?” I ask.

Dad’s voice is firm. “People like the influential people in Nashville. And maybe some young women, yes. Is it so bad for your mom to want to see you find someone to share your life with? Someone suitable?”

I’m inches away from reminding them that I’m perfectly capable of finding someone to share my life with, but that would mean discussing Winona.

I need to man up and tell them.

But not over the phone.

And not when she’s with me.

Maybe I should go to Nashville for Thanksgiving. It would give me an opportunity to talk to my parents alone—they could warm up to the idea when Winona’s not around to hear their almost certain objections.

But I won’t have many Thanksgivings in the years to come where I’m not playing. This is my first Thanksgiving with Winona. I want to spend it with her.

I’ll have to find another time to break the news to my parents—and it needs to be soon.

Chapter 26

Winona

When I think something nice is going to happen

I seem to fly right up on the wings of anticipation …

~ L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea

Cass has been jittery all morning. When her phone rings around one o’clock, she picks up like it’s going to catch fire if she doesn’t answer it.

I don’t usually pay any attention to who’s calling her. But today, I ask. “Who is it?”

She holds up a finger and walks to the other room. I stand from the couch and follow her. We don’t keep secrets. Okay. Yes. I kept how I felt about Declan a secret—but not for long.

Cass’s back is to me. She says, “Yes. On her way? Okay.” And then she turns around and gasps. “Win. What are you doing? I didn’t see you follow me.”

“Uh-uh,” I say. “The question is what are you doing?”

“Thanks! Bye!” Cass says to whoever is on the phone. She clicks the call off without another word and pockets her cell.

“You’ve been acting weird all morning.”

“Weird?”

“Yes. Like that. Since when do you answer me with a question—and with your voice getting all high and squeaky? Spill it.”

“Can you trust me?”

“I don’t know. Should I?”

“You definitely, definitely should.” Her expression doesn’t match her words. “Trust me. In a half hour I can tell you everything.”

“You’re a horrible liar. Tell your accomplice on the phone that.”