Page 201 of Tangled with the Tight End

“If it gets unbearable hanging out with a handsome football player who can’t keep his eyes off you, you’re welcome to swing back around,” Dad says.

“I’ll do just that—when it gets unbearable.”

Cass drives us back home. I change and climb into my car, setting Declan’s gifts on the passenger seat.

When I pull away from the house, I glance in my rearview mirror. An SUV follows behind me. I don’t recognize the car as one of my neighbors. It’s probably a relative, here for Christmas.

Each time I turn, the SUV turns with me. I take a turn I hadn’t planned to take just to test my suspicions. The SUV stays with me. I call Declan on Bluetooth.

He answers with, “Merry Christmas, beautiful.”

“Well, Merry Christmas to you too. I’m on my way over.”

We texted early this morning, but we had already committed to spending time with our families. And I’m glad we did, even if my thoughts regularly drifted to being with him.

“Declan?”

“Hmmm?”

“There’s an SUV … you know what? It’s probably nothing.”

“An SUV what?” he asks, his tone moving from lazy and warm to on guard in a beat.

“Just … it seems to be following me. I even took some weird turns and it’s right there.”

“I’m sorry, Winona.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t order a tail on me. Did you?” I try to make light of this—for his sake—but I am feeling a little freaked out. I’ve never been followed before.

“Stay on the phone with me,” he says. “It’s probably nothing. Just more photographers.” He mumbles, almost to himself, “Which isn’t nothing.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

I drive the rest of the way to Declan’s. He stays on the phone.

“I’m at gate one. The SUV is driving in behind me.”

Declan practically growls. “What use are gates if people can come in anyway?”

“Let’s not let this ruin our Christmas,” I say.

“Yeah. Okay.” He pauses. “Yes. Definitely. Just drive in. He can’t come on my property.”

I drive through the second gate. The SUV follows. And, as I expected, he drives right up to Declan’s driveway behind me. Thankfully, he doesn’t try to follow me through the private gate to Declan’s house.

When I get out of the car, Declan’s on the porch, walking down to greet me. He leans in and kisses me. “Merry Christmas, Winona.”

“Merry Christmas,” I say, smiling up at him. “Let me get my gifts.”

I grab the presents and we walk inside together.

Geese Witherspoon is wearing a Mrs. Claus outfit; a light dusting of snow covers her ceramic webbed feet. I smile down at her.

“Cute,” I say, following Declan inside. He shuts the door and turns the latch.

“I woke to find her like that,” he says.

“Really?”