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I open my mouth to respond and then close it. What can I say?
“Uh-huh. I thought so,” she cracks.
I shrug. “He’s a good kisser.”
“I bet he is,” she remarks.
“Am I crazy for even entertaining any kind of relationship with him?” I ask.
She puts her fork down and looks at me. “Isaac’s a good guy. He and his wife weren’t suited for each other, but they communicate and are otherwise amicable co-parents. He’s handsome. Has a lucrative career. Basically, he’s a catch,” she claims.
“He’s also a vagabond who stays on the road most of the time,” I state.
“That’s true, but that can be fun. Imagine exploring the world with him.”
That does sound nice.
“I have dreams that include being right here and running a museum,” I say.
“You can have roots and wings. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. You just have to compromise,” she insists.
True.
I shake my head.“It’s a moot point. A few stolen kisses don’t amount to any type of commitment. We’re just enjoying each other while he’s here,” I inform her.
“If you say so.”
When the workday is finished, I swing by my apartment and change into a comfy pair of jeans and a cozy sweater before Norah drives us to the inn to help Hannah set the tables up for the shower.
Isaac is outside, watching Cobie and Lexie as they sled down the hill at the side of the inn, a pensive smile curling his lips.
“Hiya, handsome,” I say as I approach, pulling him from his thoughts.
“Hi, yourself,” he says.
“Any luck with the birth certificates?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Lonnie sent Cobie’s, but she didn’t have a copy of mine. She requested a copy from the local courthouse in Texas, but she was declined because we are divorced. I went online and requested a copy be sent to her address since I’m not there to request it in person, but that could take up to thirty days.”
“So, Europe isn’t going to happen?” I ask.
“Not unless our passports magically appear in the next few days.”
“It doesn’t seem like it should be so hard,” I say.
His eyes cut to me. “It shouldn’t be.”
“My mom always says that God will create roadblocks to protect you from unseen trouble. Maybe it’s a blessing that you’re stuck here,” I console.
The corner of his mouth rises in a half-smile. “Maybe.”
We walk inside and follow the scent of fresh ginger and nutmeg, finding Trixie and Alice in the kitchen.
“What’s going on in here?” I ask as I survey the cookie sheets set on cooling racks.
“Isaac here inspired us,” Trixie replies.
“I did?” Isaac asks.
