Page 28 of Honkers Under the Holly

“It’s the new holiday trend. Everyone in L.A. has them. Fake geese wearing seasonal outfits?” I bit my lip to keep from giggling at his bewildered expression. “You seriously haven’t noticed that every house in our neighborhood has one?”

“I thought they were just really into Sir Honksalot.”

“Well, technically they are.” I curled into him, lowering my voice. “Our goose apparently started a movement. I showed him my phone, where #PorchGoose was trending alongside photos of increasingly elaborate goose displays. “Want to tell Sir Honksalot he’s a style icon?”

“Absolutely not. He’s impossible enough about his tinsel arrangement as it is.”

Mac’s laugh rumbled through his chest. He glanced around quickly, and seeing no one paying attention, pulled me deeper into the alcove. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Mmm, not in the last hour.”

His kiss was soft, sweet, and over far too quickly. But the way he looked at me after—like I was everything he’d ever wanted—made my heart go flippity floppy.

“I love how you thought you needed to source emotional support geese for professional athletes.”

Another quick kiss, this one with a promise of more later. “I love how you make everything in my life better, even the chaos.”

We rejoined the party, maintaining our careful distance, but I caught Mac watching me throughout the night with that soft expression that made me forget about fake engagements and viral trends. This—us—was real. Everything else was just decoration.

THE BIG BOWL

“Sir Honksalot, the TV camera crew does not need your creative input.” I adjusted my tie while watching our goose attempt to direct the Espy TV team breaking down after their coverage this morning in the living room side our luxury suite at the swanky, brand new Five Elements hotel Denver. Apparently having America’s favorite “engaged” couple and their viral sensation goose warranted pre-game coverage.

The fact that they were filming the wrong couple was a detail I tried not to dwell on.

“He’s just excited.” Sara Jayne appeared in our bedroom doorway, taking my breath away in a vintage-inspired Bandits jersey dress that hugged every perfect curve. She’d gotten ready in Tommy’s adjoining room so as not to raise suspicion with the TV crew. “Though I think he’s more interested in the cameraman’s shoelaces than his cinematography.”

“You look amazing.” I checked quickly to make sure no one was paying attention to us, and pulled her close, breathing in her familiar vanilla scent. The week in Denver had been surreal—joint interviews, press conferences, and trying to keep Sir Honksalot from redecorating the hotel’s lobby. “Almost makes me wish we could skip all this and stay here.”

“On the big Bowl Sunday? When your client is favored to take the MVP title?” She straightened my tie. “Besides, you have meetings with three potential new clients today.”

“Four, actually. Turns out helping Tommy reform his image is good for business.” I caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “You okay with all this? The cameras, the pressure...”

“Are you?” Her eyes searched mine. “It’s not exactly easy watching your girlfriend play happy couple with your best friend.”

“Hey.” I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know who you love. The rest is just... strategic career advancement.”

She laughed. “Very romantic.”

“I’ll show you romantic later.” I leaned in for a kiss, only to be interrupted by an indignant honk.

Sir Honksalot stood in the doorway, wearing what appeared to be a miniature referee jersey. I didn’t want to know where he’d gotten it.

“Tommy’s been shopping again,” Sara Jayne said and laughed. “He’s got a Bandit’s jersey for later when this silly goose is slated to join The Boys for their pre-game show. I’m thinking we should hire a full-time animal wrangler like we’ve had this week at home.”

“Have to make sure our good luck charm was properly dressed,” Tommy called from the adjoining doorway, adjusting his own game day suit. “You see the feature they did on him yesterday? ‘From Delinquent Duck to big Bowl Sensation.’”

The suite’s phone rang, and the concierge let us know our car service to the stadium was here, as was the team’s bus to the stadium. Time to become the power agent with the hottest client in the League and his supermodel fiancée. Even if that fiancée actually belonged to me.

The scene outside was chaos. The players all boarded their bus for the stadium. Cameras flashed as we emerged together,the perfect picture of a star player, his supportive fiancée, and their social media famous goose. I slipped into agent mode, fielding questions about Tommy’s preparation, his incredible season, the transformation of his public image.

The gauntlet to the stadium was fraught with paparazzi. Good thing Sara Jayne was a model and knew exactly how to handle them. I did not love having my picture taken near as much. I was grateful when we got to the ticket holders’ only area and walked past the windows on the way to the owner’s suite.

On the field, Tommy was putting on a show during warmups. The Denver crowd might have come to boo the Bandits, but they couldn’t help cheering when he caught a behind-the-back pass while doing the Macarena.

When we arrived, a familiar voice called out. Coach Bridger Kingman stood near the entrance with April and a few of their kids. “Mac, good to see you again. I’d like to introduce you to my two eldest, this is Chris, and Declan. They may be in need of your services someday.”

That surprised the shit out of me. Their grandfather was Hunter De la Reine who owned one of the oldest and most prestigious agency in... the world.

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