Page 6 of Eight Days of Christmas
Scratching at the scruff on his chin he exhaled an elongated, defeated breath. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
“That’s wonderful, sir.”
Near him, a long, low sigh expelled from Isabella’s throat. As the situation sunk in, he couldn’t say he blamed her. His stomach tightened and he slid a glare in her direction. He couldn’t deny she was alluring. The way the tip of her nose turned up slightly. The way those amber eyes sparkled in just the right lighting. And somehow, in the last several years, she had become more beautiful—with voluptuous hips, and a nice rack hidden underneath her fitted sweater. But despite all of that, the memory of her leaving, of breaking his heart, was fresh on his mind.
He dropped his head in surrender. He knew the right thing to do, but it didn’t make doing it any easier. He couldn’t leave Isabella stranded at the Omaha airport. If Landon and Norah found out, he’d never hear the end of it.
“Excuse me for just a minute.” He held up a finger to the car rental rep and shuffled sideways to where Isabella stood, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“If you’d like to share my car, I suppose…you’re welcome to.” He clenched his jaw.
She stared up at him, blinking back the tears building in her eyes. The sight caused an obnoxious ache in his throat.
“We each drive halfway,” he said. “And we split the rental fee fifty-fifty.”
“Didn’t we just agree that the two of us in a car together is a bad idea?”
“Oh, it’s definitely a bad idea.”
She bit her lower lip, causing his gaze to travel to her mouth. He couldn’t help but remember how soft and satisfying her kisses used to be, how she could consume him with the simple caress of her lips against his.
All right. This wasn’t just a bad idea. It was downright idiotic. And yet…
“Okay, fine. Thank you,” she said, lowering her chin to her chest.
“License,” he demanded, holding out his hand.
She set the card in his open palm before rubbing at her temples, exhaling dramatically through her nose.
The customer service rep gave Leo the keys for the only remaining vehicle and tossed a cheerful, “Happy Holidays,” at him while he picked up his duffle bag and hiked it over his shoulder.
Leo made his way toward the car lot, grumbling as he went. Isabella scrambled after him, trudging along with a disgruntled rolling suitcase.
Typically, he’d offer to help. But this was Isabella Whitley, and she’d made it damn clear all those years ago that she didn’t need help.
Most importantly, not his.
Stopping in front of the Ford Fiesta, Leo’s chest heaved. What he wouldn’t give to have his lifted Chevy four-by-four right about now.
“You gotta be kidding me.” Isabella crossed her arms. “Is this thing even all-wheel drive?”
“Nope.” He unlocked the doors and threw his bag into the backseat since the car was a hatchback and technically didn’t even have a trunk. “I’ll take the first shift.”
“Just hold on a second.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.
This must be a new habit, something she picked up while living in New York for so long. The Isabella he remembered wasn’t so stressed out, not so tightly wound. This Isabella resembled a fluttering hummingbird—constantly moving, yet mesmerizing. Thoughts of ways he could slow her down,unwindher, assaulted his mind.
Leo pressed his hands to his hips and hung his head, forcing those thoughts away. “What’s the problem now?”
“If we’re going to do this, I think we need to set some ground rules.”
He slowly lifted his head and stared at her blankly from across the roof of the car. Was she serious? He’d been the one to offer her the favor. And what was she so afraid of?
He ground his teeth. “What kind of ground rules?”
“Well, for starters, we should not only split the driving responsibilities, but we should also split the cost of gas. Fifty-fifty.” She nodded matter-of-factly.
“You honestly thought I was going to pay for all the gas?”
