Page 21 of Eight Days of Christmas
Norah’s sincerity ballooned in Isabella’s tight chest. “Me? Why me? You’ve got Mom and Nina.”
“They’re great, don’t get me wrong. But they aren’t my big sister. C’mon, Izzy, you know I’ve always looked up to you.”
Isabella did know, though she wasn’t sure why. She’d taken a completely different course in life than Norah was obviously headed.
“You know how important your approval is to me.”
Isabella’s mind snagged on that last comment, causing her stomach to twist uncomfortably. Being happy for Norah was the easy part. She’d be happy if Norah was happy. But if Norah wanted her approval, that was something entirely different. Because if she could’ve been honest, she worried Norah was rushing into this wedding. Sure, Landon was a great guy who clearly loved Norah. But they were so young. So, so young. Or at least Norah was young. She was only twenty-two. Landon was twenty-six. Twenty-two couldn’t possibly be old enough to know for sure that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone. Of all people, Isabella should know that. She was twenty-nine and wasn’t even sure if the relationship with Harrison was worth trying to fix.
Isabella admired her little sister, taking in her long reddish-brown hair, her upturned nose that matched her own, and she cleared her throat, squeezing Norah’s hand. “You know all I want for you is that you’re happy.”
Norah’s eyes went glossy and dreamy. “And I am. I really am.”
She looked it. So what could Isabella do but bite her tongue? She couldn’t break Norah’s heart and tell her the truth—that she thought Norah could very well be making the biggest mistake of her life.
Isabella forced a smile. “Then I am, too.”
Oh,the maid of honor dress fit Isabella just fine. But it was hard to tell either way, what with the gigantic red sash-y bow across her chest and the layers upon layers of scratchy, frilly fabric. Norah always had impeccable taste, so what was the meaning behind these atrocious bridesmaid’s dresses?
Isabella stared at her lone reflection in the full-length mirror in disgust. She tugged on the zipper from behind, attempting to free herself from the monstrosity because she couldn’t stand to be in it a second longer, but it got stuck partway. After fidgeting with it several times, she gave up.
She cracked the door open and hollered down the hallway. “Hey, Norah? Would you come back up here for a sec? I need some help.” She maneuvered her arm over her shoulder, inching her fingers down her back toward the zipper. The door pushed open, and she spun around. “Finally,” she exhaled.
But to her horror, it wasn’t Norah standing there.
Leo dropped his head and laughed. Out loud. Without even bothering to hide it.
She pinched her lips into a pout. “Shut up,” she muttered, her face burning with embarrassment. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh, c’mon, it’s a little funny.” He grinned.
“Would you just come over here and unzip me, please?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He playfully narrowed his eyes. “Turn around.”
Isabella hesitated, sucking her lips in between her teeth and turned, holding up her hair. The next few moments felt like an eternity as she waited for him to close the distance between them. She didn’t so much as hear him approach as feel him though, his presence and scent and heat suddenly surrounding her.
She squeezed her eyes shut when she felt him grip the dress, felt his warm breath cascade down the back of her neck. He slid the zipper down slowly. She sucked in a breath, the zipper gliding even lower. Her eyes fluttered open at the touch of his gentle fingertips skimming the skin of her back.
Stealing a glance at him in the full-length mirror, his gaze suddenly met hers, his brown eyes dark and lustful.
“There you go. All done.” He cleared his throat, but his voice sounded husky.
“Thank you.” She faced him, pressing her hand flat against the top of the dress to hold it in place.
Leo’s vision moved over her, head to toes, and back up, her skin burning under his gaze. He quirked a thick, dark brow. “Landon certainly has some interesting taste.”
She shook her head. “Wait, what? What does Landon have to do with this?”
“You didn’t actually think Norah chose these hideous dresses, did you?” He waved a finger at the dress.
“Well, she said she knew I’d love it. She said it was my favorite color. So, I just thought…I mean…I assumed.” She turned and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Leo was right. Norah would never pick this dress. But why would she let Landon pick out her bridesmaid’s dresses? “Are you for real?”
“Yep.”
“But why?” She stared at herself in the mirror again, slack-jawed, careful not to give Leo a view of her backside.
“Norah has let Landon have a say in almost every wedding decision. For some reason, he actually cares. And Norah thinks compromise is a big part of a successful marriage.” Leo put up his hands. “But hey,” he said, as he moved back to the door, “what do I know?”
