A Very Merry Bromance (Bromance Book Club #5) (68)

“You coming?”

She blinked out of her thoughts to find Alexis watching her with a concerned tilt to her head. Alexis always saw too much. “Yes,” Gretchen said quickly. She grabbed her wine and slipped from her chair.

The living room was a short walk from the kitchen. She lagged behind Alexis and hung back as each woman found her man and stood in cute little couplets as they watched their children circle Colton, laughing and squealing and wiggling to the goofy song. He put his all into it too. He might as well have been performing at the Opry instead of for an audience of toddlers and tikes.

Gretchen couldn’t tear her gaze from his fingers. They stroked each string with sensual competency, like the familiarity of a lover’s hands on a body he’d caressed a thousand times. Melody soared from his expert touch, coaxed and fluttered with experience and tenderness. Every story she’d ever read about him said he was a self-taught musician, but how was it possible for someone to master a skill like that without training? And he was, truly, a master. The song became something new under his tutelage. Something better. Something uniquely his.

And despite her effort to hide in the back, to remain invisible, he found her with his eyes, and she became the audience. An audience of one. Without breaking his stride or missing a single beat, he winked at her.

“Where’s Vlad?” Alexis suddenly asked, looking around the room.

A loud “Ho ho ho” from the hallway was the answer.

The children whipped around, and every adult in the room tried to hide smiles behind their drinks as Vlad sauntered in from the hallway wearing a Santa suit. His face was obscured by a fluffy fake beard, and over his shoulder was a huge red bag with the corners of several gifts poking out the top.

He stopped in the middle of the room with his hands on his squishy pillow belly and let out another boisterous “Ho ho ho.”

Colton ended the song with dramatic flair. Vlad took a seat by the Christmas tree and opened his bag. As the children sat in front of him, some on their knees, some wiggling on their butts, another observation made the room tilt in her vision. The reason she felt uncomfortable, the reason she’d always hugged the periphery of this group of friends despite the many ways they’d always welcomed her, the reason she’d raced out of Colton’s hotel room the night after the wedding, was because this wasn’t just a group of friends.

This was a family.

It didn’t matter that they weren’t related. They were a family in every other way. The kind of family that teased one another and hugged one another and gave one another gifts and snuggled one another’s children. The kind of family that celebrated Christmas together.

The kind of family she’d never been part of and had no idea how to be part of now.

Colton, though. He wasn’t just part of them. He was them. A harmonious chroma in their vibrant palette. She was, and had always been, the unused lime green forgotten in the box. You might use it eventually, but the color would ruin the rest of the picture.

A choking sensation clutched her throat, and the heat in the room became oppressive. Wine wasn’t going to cut it. She needed water. As quietly as she could, she slipped from the room and back into the kitchen. She dumped out her wine, refilled the goblet with water from the faucet, and gulped several long swallows.

“Was my singing that bad?”

She whipped back around. Colton had followed her.

“Terrible,” she said quickly. And because her attempt at a teasing tone was an octave lower than convincing, she forced a smile. “I had to wash away the lingering taste of it.” She lifted her glass as if he needed proof.

He crossed the kitchen and didn’t stop until the toes of his shoes touched hers. She bit her lip and stared at his chest. “That was really cute,” she said. “You’re really good with the kids.”

“Gretchen.”

She glanced up.

He hooked his arm around her waist and tugged her toward him. His hand on her back was warm, reassuring. “I know that face.”

“What face?”

“The one that says you’re about to grab your shoes and run out on me again.”

Her cheeks heated. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Just tell me why you’re making it again.”

“I’m no good at this, Colton.” She spoke to the floor.

He ducked his head down to catch her eye. “At what?”

“This.” She gestured toward the living room, where the children were still shrieking with glee as they received presents from Santa Vlad.

“Christmas?” He smiled again. “I know. But we’re working on that.”

“No, I mean, I’m not good at this.” She put her hand in the center of his chest.

He immediately covered her hand with his own. “You’re good for me.”

Oh, wow. Okay. He was rewriting her entire notebook. She sputtered against her racing heart before shaking her head. “I’m not, though. I’m a Winthrop. You’ve met my family. You see how they are.”

“And you’re not one of them.”

“But I am. The only reason I agreed to talk to you is because my brother offered me a spot on the family foundation board.” Shame brought a sour taste to her mouth, and she braced for his scorn.

Instead, he simply squeezed her hand. “So?”