A Very Merry Bromance (Bromance Book Club #5) (22)

She planted her hands on her hips. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“I mean, you must have millions of women who would give up a lung for a chance to go out with you—”

He nodded. “I do. Sometimes they even toss their bras at me with their phone numbers written on them.”

She tossed up her hands. “Great. Call one of them.”

“I don’t want to. I want to go out with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.”

“No one likes me.”

Colton winked. “With your cheerful disposition? I find that hard to believe.”

“Is that called flirting?” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Be still my beating heart.”

Colton laughed, and Gretchen realized with a start that he was enjoying this. His long legs closed the distance between them, and Gretchen had the momentary instinct to back up. But she held her ground, even when he stepped so close that they could have been dancing. Her body reacted as if she’d been struck by lightning. She remembered distinctly what it was like dancing with him . . . and what it led to.

“Let me try this another way,” he said, his voice dropping into who’s your daddy range. “Gretchen, I like you. I thought you liked me. I have no idea what happened last year that made you go running off like that, but I would love to try again. So would you do me the honor of letting me take you out tonight so you can make your best pitch for why I should consider your family’s proposal?”

It was the sincerity that cracked her resolve. Her voice came out airy. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

“Because it’s a waste of time.”

“For who? You or me?”

“Both of us.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Pick you up tonight at seven?”

Gretchen gulped. “I don’t have much choice, do I?”

“Of course, you have a choice.”

Sure. A choice between having to tell Evan that she’d lived up to his low expectations of her, or go out with the only man who had the power to make her feel the worst emotion ever . . . vulnerability. It wasn’t much of a choice. “Fine,” she ground out.

“Awesome.” He grinned, stepping back. “I’ll pick you up at home.”

He gave a gentle tug to a lock of her hair and then turned around. He paused before opening the front door. “Oh,” he said, looking over his shoulder, “and be sure to dress warm.”

“Why? Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“You’ll like this one.”

She doubted that very much. “And I hate being cold!”

It was too late. He’d already left.

She chuffed out an argh and returned to her office, her concentration ruined. She had clients relying on her, but her fingers suddenly itched to look up cute cold-weather outfits on Pinterest. The only thing that made the personal humiliation tolerable was knowing she got to call Evan and say she was making progress.

So, so pathetic.





CHAPTER SIX


Colton parked his Lincoln SUV across the street from Gretchen’s house just before seven that night.

She lived in a stately Victorian that had been subdivided into individual apartments. A wide front porch wrapped around both sides of the house, one wing featuring a collection of worn wicker furniture and the other a large swing. He couldn’t picture Gretchen ever using either of them. It would require a willingness to slow down and relax, and she didn’t give off a put your feet up vibe.

He waited for a couple of slow-moving sedans to pass before crossing. The front door was unlocked and opened into a converted foyer with built-in mailboxes along one wall next to an intercom system. He searched for her apartment number and hit the buzzer. A moment passed before he heard her voice.

She offered no greeting, just a brusque instruction to use the stairs directly in front of him to the top floor. The staircase creaked beneath his footsteps as he followed her instructions. On the top floor, the stairs opened into a long hallway with a single door on the right. He’d just raised his hand to knock when the door opened.

Gretchen stood before him wearing a black turtleneck sweater, jeans that made his mouth water, and a scowl that made him smirk. “How’d you know?”

Her scowl deepened. “Know what?”

“That a woman in jeans and a black turtleneck does things for me.”

She turned around and left him standing in the doorway. He walked in to see her heading down a single dark hallway. “Where’re you going?”

“To change.”

He jogged around in front of her to block her path. “Don’t even think about it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have to get my coat and my purse.”

She changed direction and instead walked to the small closet by the door to retrieve both, and as she did, he turned around to survey her living space. “You weren’t kidding, woman. You do hate Christmas.”

“Don’t call me woman,” she grumped, slipping on her coat. “And what was your first clue?”

“No tree?”

“Why would I spend money on something that only I would ever see?”