Page 28 of Eight Days of Christmas
“Come on,” she said, hauling him across the threshold before shutting the door behind him. “It’s freezing out there.”
She was close. Too close. Her scent and warmth hit him like a Mack truck. He paused, staring down at her. “Izzy. You look—” like temptation, like torment, like trouble “—really pretty.”
He could’ve sworn her cheeks flushed deeper.
Her lips parted and her eyes moved over him. “Leo, I—”
“Auntie Izzy!” Ava hollered, and barreled toward them, her duck slippers squeaking with each small step.
Leo shuffled his feet, averting his eyes.
“What is it, sweetie?” Isabella asked.
Ava pointed above them, grinning. “Lookie. Mistletoe.” She cupped a small hand over her mouth and giggled.
Simultaneously, Leo and Isabella glanced up. Sure enough, the kid was right. Mistletoe.
“Would you look at that,” Isabella’s voice came out raspy.
“You have to kiss,” Ava said in singsong.
Leo rubbed at the back of his neck. “Oh, I don’t really think that’s necessary—”
“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss,” Ava chanted, growing louder each time.
“Okay,” Isabella nearly shouted. “Fine. We’ll kiss. Happy?”
Ava jumped up and down, duck slippers quacking again, clapping her hands together. “Yay!”
Isabella moved closer to him and lifted her gaze. “It’s tradition, right?” She shrugged.
Sure. One small, meaningless kiss. He could do that.
Leo took a tentative step toward her, and his attention went to her mouth. She licked her lips, and his hormones soared. She lifted her chin, and he leaned in. Their mouths barely brushed together before they pulled away.
Leo gazed down at her, her eyes fixed on him, and he was caught in the moment. The crackling fire nearby, the tinny sound of “Jingle Bells” in the background, glowing lights wrapped around the banister. He was tempted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her harder and longer—
A soft giggle interrupted his fantasies.
Leo cleared his throat and pushed a hand through his hair, giving it a gentle tug. Isabella stepped away from him. He pinched his eyes shut. What was he thinking?
Quacking ducks and louder giggling was heard as Ava ran out of the room.
Chapter Nine
Isabella
Everyone meanderedinto the open-concept kitchen and adjoining dining room. Two slow cookers of Mom’s famous stew, a stack of bowls, and homemade bread rested on the island. While bowls were filled, and silvery bells of Christmas music streamed from the other room, it felt like musical chairs—and if Isabella didn’t hurry and fill her bowl, she had a sneaking suspicion she’d end up next to Leo. The two of them, sitting next to one another and sharing a meal, had warning signals blaring.
Isabella spun from the island, bowl brimming with hot stew, and took in the predicted scene. One empty chair remained. Next to Leo.
Her shoulders sank. Should she just wave the white flag now?
She placed her bowl on the table, hard, but was still careful not to spill her stew, and yanked out her chair and took a seat, spine stiff. With Landon on the other side of her, she was the center of a Hoffman-brother sandwich. Norah sat across from Landon, and Mom next to her, sporting one of her favorite Christmas sweaters from her collection—red knit with a giant snowman head on the front.
From across the table, Norah made eye contact with Isabella and mouthed,sorry. But it was fine. As she’d told Dad, she was an adult. She could handle one dinner with her ex. Even if the mere heat radiating off his body set her hormones on fire.
Isabella dipped her spoon into the stew. “Mom, it smells delicious.” She inhaled the scent of onions and bay leaves. It reminded her of childhood and home, of a time when things were easy. When she had her mom and dad to take care of her and didn’t have to make all the decisions on her own. So far, adulting sucked.
