Page 9 of Eight Days of Christmas
Isabella awoke justas Leo pulled into a brightly lit gas station, a kink in her neck. Snow fluttered against the windshield, accumulating since Omaha, but the roads seemed to be mostly wet. The sky had turned into night while she’d slept, her stomach aching and reminding her she should’ve eaten by now. A Subway adjoined the gas station convenience store, and if Isabella still knew Leo in the way she once had, this was what he meant by,there’s a place we can get something to eat.
She left her things in the car, putting on her coat and shoving her wallet into the pocket, and crunched across the snow-covered parking lot. Isabella went inside the cluttered convenience store in search of the bathroom, pulling down her hood and shaking off the snow. She’d been holding her bladder so long, trying to not be a nuisance and make Leo stop often for a bathroom break. She had to hobble toward the back of the store where the restroom sign hung.
When she was finished, she glanced out the windows of the convenience store, searching for the rental car at the gas pump. Her eyes roamed the dark, foggy parking lot until she spotted the empty car parked in a spot near the side of the building. She searched around the store and found Leo in line at the Subway counter.
Isabella would rather have a nice, hot meal, considering the chill in her bones, but she was starving, so she stepped in line. When Leo turned around and waved her over, she hesitantly passed everyone in line until she reached him.
“Italian?” He gestured at the two sandwiches laying open-faced on the counter. “Is that still what you get?”
Her stomach tightened, and her heart slid into her throat. He remembered her usual sandwich. “Um, yeah,” she muttered. “Thanks.”
Leo nodded, giving her a tight half-smile.
But that gesture only made her angry again. He couldn’t even give her a genuine smile. Leo used to have the best smile. If she was having a bad day, all he had to do was break those perfect lips into a grin and all the bad would melt away. All of those nights when she snuck out her window and climbed into his. He’d curve those soft lips and the worry of getting caught vanished. It had always been worth it, just to see that smile.
“Isabella?” Leo nudged her arm.
“Huh…what?” she said, coming out of the memory.
“I asked if you wanted chips.” He stared at her blankly, and a bit annoyed.
“Sure. That’d be great.” Snatching two bottles of water from the cooler, she set them on the counter. “And these.” She unzipped her wallet and plucked out her credit card, handing it to the cashier. “This is on me. I’m assuming you paid for the gas?”
He nodded. “You can get it next time.” The cashier handed him the bag with the sandwiches and chips stuffed inside. “And, thanks,” he mumbled.
“Wow. How painful was that?” she teased, following him toward the glass double doors.
“What are you talking about?”
“Telling me thank you.”
He stopped, holding the door open for her to exit first. And then, it happened. The slightest hint of the Leo smile she remembered broke across his face. It brought her up short. Stole her breath. For a long second, she stood inches from the muscular man she couldn’t seem to get over, the space between them way too close.
But then he quirked a cocky brow. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“Am I honestly that terrible?” Isabella finally asked after she climbed into the driver’s seat. When Leo didn’t respond, she glanced at him. He had his head tilted, a sneer on his lips. “O-kay,” she said, drawing out the word. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
“No, Izzy,” Leo breathed out, running a large hand down his tired face. “You’re not that terrible.”
Tension filled the car like a hot, stuffy sauna, and the heat burned in Isabella’s chest. There was so much being said in the silence around them that it felt suffocating. She wanted to relieve it. She wanted the ache in the pit of her stomach to finally dissipate. The one she’d held onto for the last six years.
Isabella unwrapped her sandwich, took a bite, and forced herself to chew. After she swallowed the first dry bite, she unscrewed the cap on her water bottle and took a long drink. Then she returned the water to the cup holder in the center console and put the key in the ignition.
“Why don’t you eat before you start driving?” Leo suggested around a mouthful of his sandwich.
“I’m fine. I can eat while I drive.”
“Oh boy, this should be fun.” Leo reached for his seatbelt.
“Ha, very funny.” She glared at him and backed out of the parking spot.
“You’re a terrible driver. And you’re even worse when you eat while you drive.”
Rather than being upset by his comments, it only reminded her of just one more way Leo knew her. But what he didn’t know was that she hadn’t driven in ten years. And when Leo suggested renting a car and driving the six hundred miles to Pineridge on her own, in the middle of a snowstorm, she felt on the verge of a panic attack. She could do this, though. It had to be like riding a bicycle, right?
“I’m a fine driver.” She turned out of the gas station, and the car jumped over the curb with a jarring thud. “Shut up,” she muttered before Leo had time to say anything.
“How long has it been since you drove? Because Norah said you don’t drive in New York.” Leo took another bite of his sandwich, crumbs clinging to the scruff on his face.
