Chapter Five
Isabella
Leo’s reminderthat the two of them were together now not because theywantedto be but because theyhadto be pinched in Isabella’s gut.
They were stuck. Confined. Trapped. After six years apart.
After rummaging in his suitcase, Leo brought out a winter hat and gloves. “Youdidpack your winter clothes?” He had something resembling hope shining in his brown eyes, almost as if he wished she hadn’t.
“Of course.”
“I’m surprised.”
And there it was. Another jab.
“This was my home too, Leo. You don’t forget that kind of stuff.”
He shrugged, stretching his knit hat over his dark brown hair.
“Believe me, you can’t forget the cold,” she said. “The frozen toes and fingers.” She shivered just thinking about it. She could argue with him that New York was known for icy, cold winters as well, but she didn’t have the energy.
“I’m also surprised you refer to Colorado as home,” he added.
Great, another jab. But this time to her heart. Just because she hadn’t been back in several years didn’t mean she loved it any less.
“As long as my parents are there, it will always be home.”
“I guess.” He gave a half-hearted shrug.
Isabella bit the inside of her cheek—letting this go would be harder than she thought. She climbed onto her knees on the seat and reached in the back for her suitcase. She unzipped it and searched for her winter clothes. Hat, gloves, scarf, wool socks. When she glanced over her shoulder to ask Leo if he thought she’d need her long underwear as well, she caught him staring at her backside.
“Uh-hmm,” she cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes in half-amusement, half-indignation.
“Sorry.” He whipped his head in the opposite direction. “Wow, that was a blast from the past.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, frozen in the same position. “I think my butt has changed in ten years.”
“Notthat. Just,” he fumbled over his words as he yanked on his wool socks. “Old habits die hard and all that. Checking you out used to be a reflex. Guess it never went away. Sorry.” Pink stained his angled cheeks, and a memory spiked in Isabella’s mind—him blushing in tenth grade before their first kiss.
“I guess you checking out my butt is better than you shooting fire at me with your eyes.” She set the clothing on the console in between them.
“What are you talking about? Have not,” he huffed.
“Have to. And throwing jabs at me every chance you get.” She slumped back into the seat and wound the designer scarf around her neck. The gray and black herringbone-patterned wrap had been a Christmas gift from Harrison the year before last.
Leo groaned, pushing his hands into gloves. “Have not.”
“And I think you’ve been making it obvious, too. You want me to feel bad. And guilty.”
“No, I don’t.”
“But news flash, Leo. I already feel bad. So rubbing it in doesn’t help. Like it or not, the two of us are gonna be stuck together for all of the wedding festivities.”
“Despite what you think, I’m not an idiot—I’m well aware of our situation.”
Isabella pushed back her hair before she pulled her knit cap over her head. “I could just kill Norah for choosing to get married in the winter. Never mind the week of Christmas.”
“At least we can both agree on that.”
