“Thanks, sweetie. Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells.” Mom smiled, pushing her wired glasses up the bridge of her nose. “It is just so good to have you home.”
“Are you sure?” Isabella muttered. “Because it seems Leo snuck right in and took my place as the middle child around here.” She blew on a steaming spoonful of stew.
Leo snickered, his arm brushing hers for a split second. She scooted over an inch in her seat.
“Oh, you stop it now.” Mom waved her hand.
“What? Am I wrong?” she glanced around the table, not fully expecting anyone to answer.
Nina was busy helping Ava cool down her stew, Dad and Mr. Hoffman were deep in a conversation about Pineridge’s new stop light, and Landon had his head so far into his bowl, he looked as if he might drown in it.
“I mean, Leo is better at snowman building. As we all witnessed today,” Finn said.
“I’m surprised he didn’t move in here with you guys instead of back in with his dad after the divorce.”
Leo stiffened beside her. His spoon hand stilled, and he slid her a cutting look.
“Oh, he didn’t move in with me,” Howard piped up. “He didn’t tell you on your ride in from Omaha? He has a real nice place off Brushwood Road. You know, heading toward the mountain? It’s a beautiful log home.” Howard looked at his son and raised a brow. “You should take her out there sometime.”
“Yeah, you should take me out there sometime,” Isabella said, turning a glance on Leo before forcing a smile at his dad. “And no, actually, he didn’t tell me that…” She’d just assumed that Leo moved back in with his dad after his divorce from Talia. He was there all the time, so it made sense.
“Guess it didn’t come up.” Leo leaned in close to her, his breath skimming against her bare shoulder. “We were busy doing things with our mouths other than talking.”
A flush swept across her cheeks. “Leo, Ava is right there,” she hissed quietly.
“What was that, sweetie?” Mom asked.
Isabella jerked her head around. “Nothing. Just that the stew is perfect. Just like I remember.”
“Have you made it for your honey on cold nights in the city?”
“Um…no.” Isabella tore off a piece of bread and shoved it in her mouth, unable to make eye contact with Mom. She needed to tell her family about Harrison, but now, in front of the Hoffmans, didn’t feel like the right time.
“Didn’t I give you the recipe? I could’ve sworn I emailed it to you. Pull out your phone, I can give it to you again. Type it up in that little note app of yours. I’ve got it all right here.” Mom tapped her pointer finger to her temple.
“Not now, Mom. Another time, okay?” Isabella tucked her chin to her chest. A sense of Leo’s attention fixed on her sent a shiver of longing through her. She brushed her fingers against her neck.
“It’s no trouble at all. C’mon,” Mom urged.
Isabella’s shoulders sagged. How on earth would she get out of this?
“Listen to your mom, sweetie.” Dad pushed out his small pot belly and gave it a rub. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
Mom nodded in agreement. “If you want your city beau to propose to you, this recipe will do the trick.”
“But I don’t—” Straightening, Isabella prepared to divulge a little bit about her relationship with Harrison. About the break. About being homeless. Okay, maybe not about the homeless part. “You don’t, what?”
Concern streaked Mom’s face, and Isabella deflated. She just couldn’t do it. As much as Mom hated that she and Harrison weren’t married yet, she’d be devastated to learn that things between them were most likely over.
Underneath the table, Leo pressed his foot against hers, a reminder that she wasn’t alone. She briefly closed her eyes and swallowed.
“Nothing.” Isabella forced a smile.
“What does your boyfriend do over there in New York?” Mr. Hoffman asked.
She fanned herself with her napkin. Was it hot in here?
“He’s an independent financial advisor,” she finally said. “He works for one of the largest investment firms in Manhattan.”
