A Very Merry Bromance (Bromance Book Club #5) (29)

“You’re you, and I’m me.”

“Oh, Gretchen,” he quipped in a bad British accent. “What a safe and terrible answer.”

“Really? Quoting A Christmas Carol? That’s a bit on the nose.”

He chuckled and tugged her more tightly against him. “It’s a classic. I read it every year and have seen every movie version. If you want to learn to love Christmas—”

“I never said I did.”

“—then this is your first lesson. Every person you know is represented by a character in that book.”

“Which one are you?”

“Nephew Fred, of course. I’m happy and live to make other people happy.”

“I suppose you think I’m Scrooge?”

“If the humbug fits.”

“Well, you’re wrong. Just because I don’t read it every year doesn’t mean I don’t know what it’s about. I studied it in college. And it has less to do with Christmas and more to do with an unwillingness to interfere for the greater good. To sacrifice for the sake of others. That’s not a Christmas message. Some of the loudest Christians I know wouldn’t sacrifice a single manicure to help those less fortunate. They’ll pretend to care at Christmas but then spend the rest of the year crossing the street to avoid a homeless person.”

“Okay, but you are grumpy and hate Christmas.”

“Humbug.”

He chuckled again. The vibration of it against her chest was becoming hypnotic.

“Just so you know,” he murmured, “I haven’t been with anyone since that night.”

She snorted even as her heart raced. “You’ve fed me a lot of bullshit, but that’s the first outright lie that’s ever come out of your mouth.”

“Not a lie. You are the last woman I slept with, Gretchen.”

She wrenched her face back to his. She aimed for a stony expression but likely failed. She didn’t believe, not for one second, that he’d been celibate since Mack and Liv’s wedding. And even if she did believe it, she wouldn’t be naive enough to think that it had anything to do with her. Still, her heart raced again with a foolish feminine fantasy of having rocked his world so much that he couldn’t stand to be with anyone else.

The song faded away, and before she could protest what he’d just said, he stepped away from her. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“The dance.” Colton’s thumb traced the swell of her bottom lip, and she lost a year off her life.

She backed away from the circle of his arms. “I’ll tell my brother to set up a meeting.”

Colton followed her with his eyes but didn’t move. “I don’t want to meet with your brother.”

“But you said—”

“I said I’m open to a proposal. But I want to hear it from you.” Slowly, deliberately so, he inched as close to her as possible without touching. He hit her with the double-barreled attack of a heavy-lidded gaze and a seductive lick of his lips. Her nipples tightened under her sweater. And then, as if he knew he’d achieved his aim, he smirked and stepped back. “We can plan our next date in the car.”

He turned and started walking, leaving her there with her mouth hanging open. “Hold up.” She hurried to catch up with him. “I agreed to one date.”

“I don’t recall putting a number on it. I said, Go out with me.”

“That’s cheating.”

“That’s business.” He glanced down at her. “And I think some of ours is unfinished, don’t you?”

Nervous tension rendered the drive back to her house silent. When he turned the Christmas station back on, she didn’t argue, and he didn’t comment on her subservience. Every molecule of matter between them vibrated with the weight of two words. Unfinished business.

He slowed and stopped in front of her house. “Stay put,” he ordered when she reached for her door handle.

“Why?” The word came out a squeak.

“Because I want to be a gentleman and open your door for you.”

Oh. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. It wasn’t as if she’d been hoping he wanted to lean across the console, hook a hand around the back of her neck, and— Her door opened. She jumped and looked up at him. Colton held out his hand to her, and she was too jittery to do anything but accept the help.

As soon as she slid from the car and stood, his eyes dropped to her mouth. She gulped. “So when is our next date?”

“Eager, huh?”

“Eager to get this over with.”

“Friday.”

“I’ll check my schedule, but that should work.”

“Got another hot date you might have to cancel?”

“Yeah, a Pap smear.”

“An agenda item for our next meeting?”

She had to clear her throat to scrape away the traces of lust. “What?”

“Do I get to kiss you?”

“Do you want to kiss me?” Oh God. Had she actually said that? Where was her pride? Her dignity?

“I think you know the answer to that question.”

“Maybe we should table that discussion until I can weigh the pros and cons.”

“Let me know how I can help your research.”