He's a lady killer too. I guess it is genetic.
"Yes, it is." I hold the bag out toward him. "I hope you like it. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I got you a few things."
Leo takes the bag from me, heavy and unwieldy enough that it's hard for him to keep up off the ground. "Thank you. Can I open it?"
"I think that's up to your mother," I say and give her the same batting of the eyelashes.
Isabella's distance melts and she laughs. "Oh God, I'm –" Totally f****d, I bet is what she'd like to say. "Of course, sweetie, let's go sit down."
What follows is almost as good as Christmas. Leo takes out each gift with an open-mouthed smile, looking to his mom in shock, then to me like I'm...
I won't cry.
Once the last present is out of the bag, Leo stacks up his haul on the coffee table in perf
