A Very Merry Bromance (Bromance Book Club #5) (64)

An excited cheer erupted from the kitchen. Gretchen skewered him with a look that would’ve wilted any other man but made him want to haul her into an empty room and beg for mercy. But there wasn’t time for even a quick apology kiss because Liv was now racing toward them. She’d shifted both the glass and wine to one hand, freeing up the other to grab Gretchen’s arm and start to tug.

“Come with me,” Liv ordered. She gave Colton a saccharine smile. “We’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.”

Gretchen looked back at him over her shoulder and mouthed Help me. He was absolutely going to pay for this later.

He couldn’t wait.

“Are you coming or what?” Noah yelled from upstairs.

Grabbing the bag of toys, Colton took the stairs two at a time and hung a left turn toward Vlad’s bedroom. He found the guys in various stages of exasperated collapse around the room. Mack was flat on his back on the bed, arms spread-eagled, a blank stare in his eyes. Malcolm was slouched in a chair by the window, absently stroking his beard and muttering under his breath. Gavin and Del were playing catch with what appeared to be a balled-up pair of socks. Yan had apparently just given up. He sat on the floor, back against Vlad’s dresser, scrolling on his phone.

Colton dropped the bag and startled them all.

“It’s about fucking time you got here,” Mack griped, sitting up.

“Sorry. Where’s Vlad?”

Yan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Still in his closet. He won’t come out.”

“Why?”

“He says the suit doesn’t fit right.”

“Of course it doesn’t fit right. He has—”

“Hockey butt.” The guys finished his sentence in unison. Hockey players often struggled to find pants that fit over their unusually muscular thighs and butts and a trim waist. He and the guys had become intimately familiar with Vlad’s backside last year as they’d helped him following his injury.

Colton walked to the closet door and knocked. “Hey, buddy. It’s Colton. You okay in there?”

A muffled sound was the only answer.

Colton leaned closer. “Come on, brother. Open up. Let me see it.”

A moment passed before the door handle finally turned from inside. Then Vlad walked out in full Santa gear—red pants, red coat, red hat, bushy white beard. But his downcast eyes and defeated slump were as far from jolly as a man could get.

Colton put his hand under Vlad’s chin and lifted his face. “Look at me, man. What’s the problem?”

Vlad tugged on the coat. “It doesn’t fit.”

Colton stepped back, tilted his head, and studied Vlad for what he hoped was an appropriate amount of time to be convincing. Then he nodded. “I understand the problem. You bought it extra big to go over your—”

“Hockey butt,” the guys said again.

“—but that makes the jacket too loose. Right?”

Vlad nodded glumly. “I already have a pillow shoved in here. If I put another one, it will fall out and the kids will be scarred for life.”

“You do need another pillow,” Colton said. “What if we duct tape them all together around you?”

“That is an excellent idea,” Mack said dramatically, rising from the bed. “I will go find some.”

He ran out like a teenager who’d just been given a reprieve from doing the dishes.

“Noah, hand me another pillow,” Colton said.

Noah picked one up from the bed and threw it. It smashed Colton in the face before falling to the ground, and Vlad smiled for the first time beneath the bushy white beard.

“Let’s get this coat off you,” Colton said. Vlad spread his arms out so Colton could work the buttons. The red velvet fell open, revealing an undershirt stretched to the breaking point from the pillow underneath.

“See? If we put another one around the back, that will fill out the coat perfectly,” Colton reassured him.

Vlad looked unconvinced. “The kids are going to know I’m not real.”

“No, they won’t.”

“What if they recognize my voice?”

Colton shrugged. “Tell them that people from the North Pole always have an accent.”

Mack returned with the duct tape. He tossed it, and Colton let it hit him in the chest for Vlad’s benefit. Bending to pick it up, he glanced back at Mack. “Did you see Gretchen down there?”

“Yep.” Mack grinned and jerked his eyebrows.

“She okay?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“She was nervous about tonight.”

“She’s fine. Roman is feeding her cheese.”

“Cheese Man is here?” That was bad news. Roman ran an underground black market for cheese, which, frankly, Colton hadn’t even known there was a demand for until he and Vlad discovered the place and became addicted. And though they’d all become friends with Roman over the past year, they had not, as of yet, formally invited him into book club. No one quite trusted him, not only because his background was a mystery, but because he also possessed an innate charisma that turned all their wives and girlfriends into melted puddles of lust the minute he walked into a room.

“Don’t worry,” Mack said, seeing Colton’s reaction.

“If he gives her the gruyere, I’m in trouble.”