Page 47 of Eight Days of Christmas
Landon’s eyes followed Norah as she gracefully skated around the rink. “I fall every time.”
“So what? You just saw me fall.”
“Yeah, but who do you have to impress out there?”
“Ouch. Point taken.” Isabella unlaced her skates.
“I didn’t mean that. I guess I just assumed you weren’t trying to impress Leo. Unless you are?”
She yanked off one skate and wiggled her toes. “No, I’m definitely not.”
“Are you sure about that? Because I can see the two of you together again. But Norah says your ex wants to get back together.”
“Dang it, Norah.” Isabella tugged off her other skate. She stretched out her chilled, stiff foot. “Is nothing sacred between sisters anymore?” She was regretting telling Norah and Nina about Harrison’s text on the drive to the rink that morning. She didn’t even know if she wanted to work things out with him. Three days ago, her answer to Harrison would’ve been easy. But now, being home and spending time with Leo again was seriously messing with her head.
“Sorry, ’fraid not. I’m also sorry about inviting Leo to join in with Eight Days of Christmas.”
Turning and narrowing her eyes at him, Isabella said, “So I haveyouto thank, huh? All eight days.”
All he could offer was a half-hearted shrug and a noncommittal smile.
“Ugh,” she groaned, glancing over at Leo while he skated side by side with Norah. Five more days stuck with Leo Hoffman. Staring at his pretty face. Trying not to remember how good he tasted.
“Just like old times,” Landon offered.
“Yay,” was all she managed to say.
Chapter Fourteen
Isabella
Consumed in strips of burlap,red ribbon, and pinecones, Isabella’s eyes and fingers burned. She was pretty sure that after Eight Days of Christmas was over—if she survived—she’d return to New York banged up, bruised, and exhausted. Each day seemed to bring a new ailment with it.
“What’s next?” Isabella asked, setting aside a tall glass cylinder after filling it with pinecones. She’d never made a centerpiece, and she could safely say she hoped she didn’t regret that fact.
The Whitley’s living room had been turned into a cross between a JoAnn Fabrics store and a Colorado forest. There were piles of twigs and pinecones alongside the rolls of burlap and red ribbon. Packages of tea lights and floating candles sat stacked in boxes on the coffee table. Along one side of the room, fake mini trees lined the wall while strands of white twinkling lights were strewn across the floor. Dad had wanted to use real trees, but Norah said that would be wasteful.
“Here.” Norah handed Isabella another glass cylinder. “Fill her up.”
Isabella groaned. “Seriously? How many of these do we need?”
“One for each table. So…sixteen.”
“Sixteen tables? Eight chairs around each table? That’s…one hundred twenty-eight people. You’re expecting that many guests?”
“Yep. Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Because. Your wedding is on Christmas Day. I guess I assumed most people would want to be with their family.”
“Well, a lot of these guestsarefamily. You remember how big the Hoffman family is?” Norah placed tea light candles into white, frosted votive holders.
“I guess.” She stuck long twigs into the cylinders that held the pinecones, attempting to arrange them like flowers in a vase.
All of the Hoffman family would be at this wedding? She’d become familiar with several of them since she and Leo had been friends and then dated for so long. Thinking of sweet Nana Hoffman made her stomach churn.
Isabella shoved more pinecones into another vase, pricking what she’d dubbed her Cranberry Finger. She’d poked that finger the other night enough times that it looked more like a piece of fruit than an actual part of her anatomy.
She exhaled a breath of curses. That was it—after her fall on the ice today, and all the wedding decorations, Isabella needed a break. She also still had to propose her idea of a bachelorette party to Norah.
