The Bromance Book Club

by Lyssa Kay Adams

  Her throat thickened with unshed emotion. Did one ever truly get over the death of a beloved sister? “Because they were free,” Irena whispered. “We used to hatch secret plans late at night on how we could escape. We could dress as boys and stow away on a ship. Or we could book passage and pretend to be orphans seeking family across the sea. I would have gone. I would have done it for her.”

  “Tell me about her,” Benedict said quietly.

  “She loved horses as much as I do.”

  “Was she as talented a rider as you?”

  “No. She could have been, but she never had the freedom to explore that interest as I did.”

  “Why not?”

  “She was the oldest of three daughters. The expectation to marry well fell squarely on her shoulders. She was, after all, considered the beautiful one in the family.”

  Benedict unleashed an inventive string of curse words that secretly delighted her. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Irena. The moment I set eyes upon you, I lost all ability to speak.”

  “I do not require compliments, my lord. I’m well aware of my own attractiveness, which, of course, no lady is supposed to admit, but such is the world. English society seems to rest upon the requirement that women are pitted against each other until we all emerge envious of the other.”

  He was silent at that. Only for a moment, though. “Were you envious of your older sister?”

  Irena shook her head. “Never. But she envied me.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t carry the same burden she did. Her entire life was about securing a husband she didn’t want just to please my parents.”

  “And when she died, that burden fell to you.”

  Irena avoided his eyes but nodded. His hand found hers. “Talk to me, my love. Trust me.”

  She met his eyes. “She felt guilty for falling ill. Before she died, she made me promise that I would never marry for anything less than true love.”

  Benedict sat up slowly until their faces were inches from each other. “And did you?”

  Time moved in hour-long seconds as he stared at her mouth, waiting for her answer.

  A discreet throat-clearing sent them jumping apart, as if they’d been once again caught in a compromising position. Of course, they were married now, so there was no need to be embarrassed, but Irena’s cheeks blazed all the same.

  Benedict turned toward the intrusion. Benedict’s longtime butler lingered several feet away. “What is it, Isaiah?”

  “My lord, I apologize. A rider from Ebberfield has arrived with urgent news.”

  Ebberfield was the name of the Latford estate in Dorset.

  “What kind of news?” Benedict asked, tense.

  “It is Rosendale. He’s been in a terrible accident.”

  Her husband’s body went rigid. “I’ll go at once.”

  Irena placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No. You’ll slow me down.”

  “I am a better rider than you are, my lord.”

  “Irena, please,” he said, suddenly every bit the lordly earl. “I command you as your husband to stay here.”

  His words were a cold slap. She stepped back, hands trembling.

  Benedict cursed and closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. His hand dove into the loose curls at the back of her neck and drew her forward. His mouth was on hers before she had time to react. It was a hard, desperate kiss, and when he pulled back, it was only far enough to move his lips to her forehead. “Forgive me, but there are things I cannot talk to you about right now.”

  Then he turned and left her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “I can’t believe you’re actually going to do this.”

  On Tuesday night, the sound of Liv’s voice in the door of her bathroom made Thea jump as she put on mascara. A half-moon of brown polka dots appeared under her right eye. Great. Not that she cared how she looked. It wasn’t like this was a real first date. It was a technicality. A part of their deal.

  Thea cleaned up the mascara mistake with a cotton swab and decided good enough was as good as it was going to get. She stepped back and surveyed the final results in the mirror. OK, so slightly more than good enough.

  “When all else fails, show a little leg, huh?” Liv snarked.

  “I know you didn’t just quote our mother to me.”

  Liv plopped down on the bed. “I’m just saying that you’re putting in a lot of effort for a man who you’re not trying to impress.”

  Thea stepped into her black patent heels. “It’s just a stupid dress.”

  “That says, Press me up a wall and do me, big boy.”

  “It says, Aren’t you the one who talked me into buying this last week?”

  “Yeah, but that was before I knew he’d blackmailed you into going on a date.”

  A quiet throat clearing in the doorway brought their heads around in guilty, no-we-absolutely-weren’t-talking-about-you swivels.

  “Ready?” Gavin asked with a yes-I-know-you-were-talking-about-me quirk of his lips.

  Thea tried to answer, but all that came out was a little squeak, because damn. Her husband cleaned up good. He wore a pair of dark gray twills she’d never seen before but seemed to have literally been tailor-made for him. She’d also never seen that shirt before—a plain, slate-blue button-down that fit just tightly enough to tug over his shoulders and biceps. He had the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms. She mentally fanned herself. Men should spend more time developing their forearms. They had no idea the impact a flex of that hair-dusted whatever muscle that was right there could have on a woman.

  “You look nice,” he said.

  “So do you.”

  “New dress?”

  “Yes. New shirt?”

  “Yep.”

  “I like it.”

  “This is your cue to get out, Liv,” he said without taking his eyes off Thea.

  “And this is your cue to—”

  “Liv,” Thea admonished. Her sister pursed her lips and scooted off the bed.

  Gavin moved into the room with a smile that seemed almost bashful. “W-where’s your purse?”

  “On the dresser. Why?”

  He pulled a folded bandana from his pocket. “Because you need to put this in it.”

  “Um, should I be afraid?”

  He answered with a slightly less bashful smile. “You’ll see.”

  Downstairs, they kissed the girls, dodged dog slobber, and told Liv not to show the twins any stupid YouTube videos. She said she couldn’t make any promises and then shooed them out the door.

  Gavin helped her into the car and then went around to his own side.

  “So . . .” He did a throat-clearing thing after merging onto the freeway. “D-did you hear anything from Vanderbilt today?”

  “Not yet. But it should be sometime this week.”

  “W-what if . . .” He didn’t finish the question, but he didn’t need to. She knew what he was asking.

  “If I don’t get in? I don’t know. I haven’t let myself think about that.”

  “You’ll get in,” Gavin said with a confidence he couldn’t possibly have. “And we’ll celebrate when you do.”

  Thea made a noncommittal noise.

  A few minutes later, Gavin signaled for an upcoming exit. “Blindfold,” he said playfully.

  “Here?” She looked around. They were in a nondescript, big-box store parking lot.

  “Yep. Here.”

  Heart hammering, Thea tied the bandana around her eyes. This was both ridiculous and endearing. Which made it dangerous. She was supposed to be going through the motions of this date, not actually enjoying herself.

  “Can you see?”

  “Not a thing.�
��

  “Good. No peeking.”

  The car turned two more times until Thea sensed Gavin pulling the car to a stop again. Bright lights turned her vision from dark to reddish through the fabric of the bandana.

  Then she sensed him leaning toward her. “OK. Ready?”

  She laughed. “Ready.”

  Gavin’s fingers fumbled with the bandana. Careful to not pull her hair, he untied it and let it fall. Thea reared back for a moment in the suddenly bright light. Then . . . “You brought me to Art Supplies Plus?”

  “I thought w-we could pick up some stuff for your classes.”

  Thea stared at him, her heart thudding a warning. He wasn’t going through the motions. This was the kind of date meant to break her down. Her husband was seducing her with markers and blank canvasses.

  A flash of uncertainty flickered in his eyes. “Is-is this OK?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I . . . thank you.”

  Inside, she grabbed a shopping cart and gave him an are you sure look. “You really want to do this?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Yeah, but be forewarned, Gavin. I’m like a kid in a candy store in places like this.”

  He smiled. “I know. I’ve seen our pen drawer at home, Thea. I’m prepared.”

  * * *

  • • •

  He wasn’t prepared.

  Thea in an art supplies store was like watching a crazed animal released at the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona. Gavin offered to push the cart while she shopped. It was partially self-serving, because it gave him a better view of her in that dress.

  Jesus, that fucking dress. The minute he’d walked into the bedroom, he turned into one of those cartoon characters whose eyes bug out and tongues hang from their mouths.

  He followed her up and down several aisles before she let out a loving exhale. “Washi tape,” she whispered, her hand over her heart. There was an entire aisle of it. Rows and rows of the stuff in every pattern and color imaginable. Thea studied individual rolls of tape with a critical eye, throwing some in the cart and returning others to the display. As if they couldn’t afford to buy the entire inventory twice. But that wasn’t Thea’s style. Frankly, he’d been amazed that she’d spent as much money as she did on herself on Friday.

  “Look at these.” Thea thrust a collection of school-related tapes in his face. “The girls would love these.”

  Gavin returned them to the shelf. She watched him with a confused expression “Why’d you do that?”

  “We’re here for stuff for you, not the girls.” He reached over her and grabbed some others that looked like re-creations of Van Gogh paintings. “What about these?”

  She plucked them from his fingers and threw them in the cart.

  “Have you ever heard of Pinterest?” he asked a few minutes later.

  Thea looked at him as if he asked if she’d ever heard of Elvis. “Seriously? I live on Pinterest.”

  “You have an account on there?”

  “Um, yeah. Why?”

  “What do you use it for?”

  Thea let out a shrugged breath. “God, what don’t I use it for? Recipes. Craft projects I want to try. Parenting tips. Cute dog pictures. Why?”

  His cheeks got hot. “There are . . . pictures of me on that site.”

  Thea snorted out a laugh. “I know.”

  “You’ve seen them?”

  “Did you just discover Pinterest or something?”

  “Sort of.” He tilted his head. “So you’ve seen pictures of me on there?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah. I have a board dedicated to the Legends, so the site’s algorithm automatically sends me related pins to consider, and that often includes you. Especially since . . .”

  She let the sentence drop. Since the grand slam, she meant. She did not want to go there.

  “So, you’ll just be sitting at your computer searching for pot roast recipes or whatever, and suddenly there’s a picture of your husband that some woman has posted?”

  “Gavin, women have been posting pictures of you on every social media site since the day we met. Sometimes they even post pictures of us and photoshop me out of them. I’m used to it.”

  “If there was a website where strange men posted thousands of pictures of you, yeah, I w-wouldn’t get used to it.”

  “That’s different. I’m not famous like you are.”

  “You’re the most important person in the w-w-world to me, so I beg to differ.”

  Her lips parted, and a kaleidoscope of contrary emotions danced through her eyes. As if she didn’t believe him but desperately wanted to. Then, before he knew what was happening, she rose on tiptoe and placed the softest of kisses on his lips.

  It was over so quickly that he almost didn’t believe it happened. She backed up with a small head shake. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”

  Gavin tried to ease the tension with a joke. “I should take you shopping for w-w-washi tape more often,” Gavin mused.

  The joke worked. Thea relaxed. “Wait until you get me in the paintbrush aisle.”

  “How fast can we get there?”

  Thea playfully pushed at his chest.

  Sadly, nothing happened in the paintbrush aisles. Nothing good, anyway. But after studying about twenty different brushes in various sizes between two different rows, Thea suddenly grabbed his arm and tugged him down so she could whisper.

  “OK, you’re going to think I’m paranoid after that Pinterest conversation, but I think you might actually have a couple of crazy fans following you right now.”

  The hair on the back of Gavin’s neck stood on end. “What are you talking about?”

  “There are these two strange guys who keep showing up wherever we are in the store. They’re too obvious. I don’t know. Like they’re watching you but trying really hard to look like they’re not watching you.”

  Gavin tried to keep his face neutral. “What do they look like?”

  “I’ll point them out if we see them again. I’m probably just being paranoid.”

  “Just stay close to me,” he said, tensing. This was the one thing he hated about being a ballplayer. His family was exposed. All joking about Pinterest aside, it sucked to know he couldn’t even go out with his wife without worrying that someone was going to stare enough to make her uncomfortable.

  They checked out, and on the way out, he gave one last look back to see if the weird men she’d mentioned were still there. Seeing no one, he relaxed but kept his hand on her back as they walked. Gavin loaded the bags into the back of the car and then helped Thea into her seat again.

  “So where to now?” she asked as he pulled onto the street.

  He almost suggested a dark road and the back seat, but that was probably pushing his luck. “Dinner,” he said, turning left.

  “Good. I’m starving.”

  “Me too,” he said, looking pointedly at her. Her shy smile expanded his chest.

  A quick drive on the freeway took them into the city. Even on a Tuesday, traffic sucked and crowds surged. Gavin inched through a stoplight and turned into a parking ramp near the restaurant. He pulled up to the valet stand as Thea reapplied lipstick and fluffed her hair in the mirror. His chest expanded again. She was so beautiful that it sometimes literally hurt to look at her. Like now.

  After exchanging keys for a ticket with the valet attendant, Gavin once again put his hand on her back as they walked out to the street. They were a few blocks away from Broadway, the main tourist thoroughfare through downtown Nashville. But it was still crowded with both locals and out-of-towners who wanted something off the beaten path.

  They walked mostly in silence for a block, stopping and going with the flow of tourists in search of bourbon and music. He kept her tucked protectively against his side, especially
when the inevitable began.

  “Dude, I think that was Gavin Scott,” a guy in cowboy boots said as they passed.

  Thea looked up with a grin. “Dude,” she said with a snort.

  “Just keep walking, and hopefully they’ll leave us alone.”

  A few feet later, another man recognized him. “Hey, aren’t you—”

  Gavin held up his free hand in a polite wave that said not now, please.

  Since the grand slam, he got recognized more than he ever used to out in public. Which almost made him choose a different spot to bring her tonight, but the restaurant was a famous steak place that he knew Thea would love. It also featured live music and a dance floor, because there was no other kind of restaurant in Nashville. When Gavin made the reservation, he’d requested as private a table as possible. He didn’t use his own celebrity much, but he’d laid it on thick to ensure he got what he wanted. It paid off, because the hostess treated them like royalty when they arrived and led them to a private loft overlooking the dance floor.

  The table was set for two with a candle in the center next to a vase full of daisies. The hostess said a waitress would be by soon to take their drink orders, and then she left them blissfully alone.

  “Did you ask them to do that?” Thea asked, pointing to the daisies.

  “I did.”

  The gesture obviously made her uncomfortable. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that day, about the daisy.”

  “I noticed you a long time before you noticed me, so I w-wouldn’t expect you to remember it.”

  “Not a long time,” she argued.

  “It was a pretty long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Two months.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s a lie.”

  He laughed and held up his hands. “I swear.”

  “You were coming to that coffeehouse for two months before I noticed you?”

  “Yep. Broke my heart every day until you finally looked up one day and smiled at me.”

  “But I noticed you before we smiled at each other.”

  “Fine. How long?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. A few times.”

  “Yeah, well, I hated coffee and only started going there hoping to see you again, so . . .”