The Bromance Book Club

by Lyssa Kay Adams

  “I don’t have a lot of that right now.”

  “Not your confidence, dipshit. Hers. You want to make her feel like she’s the only woman in the room. It’s about putting a smile on her face, a spring in her step, a little blush in her cheeks. Say things that she’ll replay over and over again when she’s in bed.”

  Gavin nearly groaned at the image that conjured. Thea in bed. Wearing one of those short silk things she wore . . . alone. Or worse, with some other guy. Oh God, he was going to puke.

  “Put down your coffee,” Del ordered.

  Gavin obeyed. Del adopted a weird-ass smile and started walking toward him. His eyes locked with Gavin’s, and goddamn, Gavin couldn’t fucking look away. He didn’t even realize he’d backed up until he collided with the wall. Del flattened his hands on either side of Gavin’s shoulders and smiled as he leaned. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Gavin automatically answered.

  “I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

  Gavin gulped. “Wh-what happened last night?”

  Del winked. “You want me to remind you?”

  Jesus. Gavin flattened himself against the wall. “I feel obligated to tell you that I might be mildly aroused right now.”

  “You must really be desperate,” Del said, still in character. He twitched his eyebrows and glanced at Gavin’s mouth. “This isn’t even my best effort.”

  Mack cleared his throat. “Sorry to break up your special moment, but we have a crisis.” He held up a gray sweater. “This is the one and only decent thing Captain Douchebag has in his entire pathetic closet.”

  Gavin knocked Del’s arms away.

  Del backed out of his personal space. “Just remember to stare into her eyes a lot. Eye contact is key.”

  “And wink,” Mack said, tossing the sweater on the bed. “Women love that shit.”

  Del added one last thing. “And look at her lips. You want her to think that you’re imagining them all over your body.”

  That part, at least, wouldn’t require any work. Gavin spent the better part of his days imagining Thea’s lips on his body.

  But wait . . . Gavin looked back and forth between them. “That’s it? Tell her I like her dress and act like I want her to lick me? That’s your entire plan for me?”

  “For now.”

  Gavin sank back down on the bed. “This is hopeless.”

  “It’d be easier if you’d tell us what really happened between you two.”

  “Not going to happen.”

  “OK,” Del said with another drawn-out sigh. “Then just tell us something. Anything. Tell us one thing she said on Saturday that might help us come up with a plan for tonight.”

  Gavin fell on his back and stared at the ceiling. Every word she’d spoken on Saturday had taken up permanent residence in his brain, but most of it would reveal too much if he shared it with the guys.

  “She wants to keep the house,” he said.

  Del perked up. “She said that?”

  Gavin nodded. “She said it would be easier for the girls if one of us kept the only house they’ve ever known, and she asked if I would pay it off for her.”

  Del and Mack looked at each other. “That could work,” Mack said.

  “It’s risky,” Del added. “And this isn’t like Regency times. Thea is half-owner of all property by law.”

  “But the symbolism of it could go a long way,” Mack said.

  “Hey,” Gavin said, sitting up and waving his hands. “You guys want to fucking clue me in here?”

  “You’re going to up the ante.”

  “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

  Del and Mack exchanged a glance that said Gavin wasn’t going to like the answer.

  He was right.

  Del sucked in a breath and let it out fast. “You’re going to agree to a divorce.”

  What. The. Fuck.

  “Yeah,” Mack said. “But first we’re going shopping.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Mommy, too hard.”

  Thea looked down at the face-paint crayon in her hand pressed against Ava’s face. She’d volunteered to help with stage props and face paint for the school musical, and though the task provided some much-needed distraction, her mind kept wandering as the clock ticked closer to the moment when Gavin would arrive.

  She wished for the hundredth time that Liv could be there for moral support, but her sister had to work a late shift tonight.

  “Sorry, honey,” Thea said, lifting the crayon from Ava’s face.

  “Mommy, that’s so pretty!” Amelia gushed next to her. “You draw so good.”

  “So well,” Thea quietly corrected. “And thank you. That’s very sweet.”

  Thea finished the last of the flowers on Ava’s deer face—both girls were playing the part of fawns—and packed up the rest of the paints. Just ten minutes until showtime. The teacher clapped her hands and raised her voice above the excited chatter as she asked the kids to start lining up. Which was Thea’s cue to head out to the auditorium. She wished she had lied to Gavin and said she was needed backstage during the show, because she had lost all her energy for the small talk and fake smiles that were prerequisites for appearing anywhere remotely public with Gavin. God grant her the serenity not to sucker-punch the first person who gushed about Gavin’s grand slam.

  Her stomach clenched as she descended the stairs beside the stage. Her eyes swept across the throng of families looking for seats. A dozen women all wore the same annoyed expression that could only mean their husbands had been late and now they couldn’t find more than two red velvet seats together for their families. What she didn’t see was Gavin, thank God. Maybe if she hovered long enough they, too, would be unable to sit together.

  Relief was short-lived, though.

  “Hey.”

  Jumping at the sound of his voice, she turned. Gavin stood below the staircase, smiling up at her in a thin V-neck sweater she’d never seen before. It wrapped around his muscles as if even cotton couldn’t resist him. Good thing Thea could. She’d had a shot in the butt called broken heart and was now immune to round biceps and thick forearms and the tantalizing valley between honed pecs—

  Ugh. She descended the rest of the stairs. “You found seats?”

  He pointed up the aisle. “Tenth row. I put my coat on it to hold the seats.”

  Gavin waited for her to go first, and then he settled a hand low on her back as if they were together. Just another happy mom and dad. She discreetly moved away from his reach just as a voice rose above the cacophony.

  “Hey, you’re Gavin Scott, right?”

  Aaaand of course. Thea turned around, a string of unintelligible, made-up curse words flitting through her mind. A dad in jeans and a buzz cut held out his hand to Gavin, who stopped politely—as he always did for fans.

  Thea pasted on her fake smile and extended her hand, as well. “Thea Scott.”

  The man limply shook her fingers. How could there still be men in the world who wouldn’t shake a woman’s hand? He barely spared her a glance as he turned his attention back to Gavin.

  “Tough break about that last game,” the man said. “I can’t believe that last call. The umpire must have been blind.”

  A vein bulged in Gavin’s jaw. He hated it when people blamed the officials for losses. “Our fault for letting one bad call lead to a loss. I didn’t play as well as I should have.”

  “Nah, it was Del Hicks, man. He missed that pop-up. His contract is up, right? Maybe we can get rid of him this year. Shed some dead weight.”

  “Del Hicks is m-m-m—”

  Thea would’ve known just by the look on the other man’s face that Gavin had started stammering. The asshole looked everywhere but at Gavin. As if stuttering was something to be embarrassed about. Thea despised people like him. They claimed to be such hug
e fans of Gavin’s, but the minute he began to stutter, they acted like he had a contagious disease.

  Acting on nothing more than instinct, Thea slid her hand into Gavin’s and squeezed. His fingers closed around hers, and he exhaled. He started again. “Del Hicks is actually my best friend,” he said coldly.

  “Oh. Well, I’ll, uh, I’ll let you guys get to your seats,” the man said, his face burning. “Nice to meet you.”

  Thea turned and tried to tug her hand from Gavin’s, but he wouldn’t let go. Instead, he pulled her back and brought his lips to her ear, bringing with him the scent of his soap and the teasing whisper of his Tic Tac–scented breath against her skin.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  “That guy was a jerk.”

  “Thea.”

  The solemn tone of his voice brought her gaze to his unwittingly. She looked quickly away, though, because the same heaviness of his voice was in his eyes, and that was just too much weight for her to carry right now. “Can you not do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Whatever you were about to do. I can’t do that with you right now.”

  “All I did was say your name.”

  “It was how you said my name.”

  “How did I say it?”

  “Like it meant something,” she spit out under her breath.

  He leaned slowly, purposefully, a shockingly mischievous glean in his eyes. Her heart did not start to thud, and her skin absolutely did not prickle with goose bumps at the seductive caress of his voice. “And what would it mean if I told you I woke up calling your name this morning?” he murmured.

  What the . . . ?

  He winked, let go of her hand, and walked to their seats.

  Thea stood in the aisle and squeaked out a belated protest. Then her feet came back to life. “What was that?” she hissed as she sat down.

  He hooked an ankle over his knee in a casually male pose. “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean! Did you just wink at me?”

  “I believe so, yes.”

  “You don’t wink.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It absolutely is true. A woman remembers every time a man winks at her, because we love winking. It’s like catnip. Wink at us, and we roll over and start purring. You haven’t winked at me in a long time.”

  “Then I’m an idiot.” Gavin slowly lowered his gaze to lips. “Because I wouldn’t mind hearing you purr.”

  Thea squeaked. “Excuse me?”

  “You look beautiful, by the way,” Gavin said, nonchalantly pulling his eyes back to the stage. “You should w-warn a guy before w-w-walking out in that dress.”

  The lights dimmed, and blessed darkness hid the way her cheeks absolutely, positively did not flush with heat.

  * * *

  • • •

  Gavin spared a glance at Thea in the dark theater. Her spine was ramrod straight, her legs crossed tightly. If she clenched her own hands any harder, she’d snap a finger.

  He was going to personally disembowel Del and Mack if this didn’t work. Not just the flirting, either. He couldn’t believe what they wanted him to do tonight. He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to give it a try.

  The curtain rose over the stage as a recorded orchestra began to play over the speakers. A line of kids danced onto the stage in a mishmash of animal faces and uneven steps. He puffed out a laugh as he recognized their daughters. Even onstage, their personalities were clear. Amelia was flashy, vibrant, dancing to her own beat. Ava was serious, determined to get the prescribed steps correct. Next to him, Thea’s hands lost their rigid grip of each other, and her spine relaxed against the back of her theater chair. Whatever anger she held for him was at least temporarily pushed aside at the sight of their girls.

  A sensation of falling made his vision swim as he watched her—the way her face reacted to every adorable thing Ava and Amelia did, the gentle curve of her jaw, the dimpled cheek that deepened as she laughed, the tiny crescent-shaped scar below her left ear.

  Thea’s eyes darted at him in the dark now, and the wariness in her expression brought a chill to his skin.

  The show lasted an hour. As soon as the curtain dropped, she whipped her gaze to his. “Stop.”

  He decided to play dumb, but oh shit sweat prickled his armpits. “Stop what?”

  “Whatever the hell you’re doing,” Thea whispered, her eyes darting around them to make sure no one was listening. “You stared at me the whole time. And that whole purring comment? What are you doing?”

  He tried the half-smile thing Mack used. “Just flirting with my wife.”

  “Flirting?!” Her hand covered his forehead. “Do you have a fever?”

  Heart pounding, Gavin peeled her hand away, turned it over, and pressed his lips to her palm. “As a matter of fact,” he murmured in what he hoped was a seductive tone, “I do.”

  Thea yanked her hand away and leaned back, staring at him as if he’d just sprouted horns. “You got in a car accident, didn’t you? Or fell down the stairs or got hit in the head with a line drive.”

  Gavin swallowed. “Huh?”

  “A head wound. It’s the only explanation. You need to see a doctor.”

  “Maybe we could play doctor?” The uncertain whine of his voice belied any attempt at confident seduction.

  Thea’s lush, glossy lips parted. But a split-second later, she snapped them shut and ground her molars. Like a soldier called to attention, she shot to her feet. When he failed to follow suit, she glared pointedly at his knees, as if his six-three frame was a deliberate conspiracy against her ability to make a dramatic exit.

  He stood, let her brush past him, and then followed her into the slow-moving masses headed for the exit. The staging area outside the auditorium filled up quickly with families waiting for their children. Gavin politely elbowed through, keeping as close to Thea as he could. She walked stiffly, head down, her purse clutched against her side as if it held the nuclear codes.

  A few genuine smiles greeted Gavin, and he returned those. But he’d long ago learned how to deftly avoid the other kind of smile—the nervous fan smile that warned someone was one excited go for it from asking for an autograph or a selfie. Fans were the lifeblood of professional sports, and he’d challenge any city in America to find a more loyal fan base than Nashville. But professional athletes were also humans who sometimes just wanted a quiet night with their families or to watch their children perform at school.

  Or to woo their wives into not divorcing their sorry asses.

  When he reached Thea’s side, he slid his hands into his pockets. “So I was thinking that after this, maybe we could—”

  He didn’t get a chance to finish his suggestion that they go out to eat as a family—which was Del’s idea—because a woman in a red suit and high heels called Thea’s name and click-clicked over with a cheery wave.

  “Mrs. Martinez,” Thea said in greeting.

  “Call me Lydia.” The woman smiled. “I’m so glad I caught you.”

  Thea looked at Gavin and blinked. “Oh, um. Gavin, this is Mrs. Martinez, the principal of the elementary school. Lydia, this is Gavin. My husband.”

  My husband. Those two words had never sounded more stilted or more promising.

  The woman dutifully extended her hand, and Gavin shook it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  The principal turned back to Thea. “I just wanted to let you know that I will have your letter of recommendation done by next week. Is that soon enough?”

  Letter of recommendation? Thea glanced at him—nervously, it seemed—and then back at Lydia. “That would be perfect, Lydia. Thank you for doing that.”

  Lydia waved away the sentiment. “It’s the least I can do after how much time you have volunteered this year and last.”

  Lydia raced off again
with a see you next week tossed over her shoulder.

  “Letter of recommendation for what?” Gavin asked.

  “Vanderbilt,” she said with a forced smile. “I’m going back to school to finish my degree.”

  “Wh-when did you decide this?”

  A firestorm erupted in her eyes. “I’ve always planned to finish my degree, Gavin.”

  “Thea, I’m not saying you can’t—”

  Oh, shit. Wrong thing to say. Very much wrong thing to say. Thea’s neck lengthened and flushed red. “Well, thank God for that. Because I definitely wasn’t going to do it without your permission.”

  Gavin raked his fingers through his hair. “Babe, that’s not what I meant. Can we just take this down a notch and—”

  “Are you seriously telling me to calm down? Because that rarely has the desired effect.”

  Dear God in heaven, he was going down in a ball of fire. He could actually feel the flames licking his skin. A whistling sound in his ear told him he was one stupid remark away from crashing and dying.

  “Mommy, did you see us?”

  “Thank God,” Gavin breathed as Amelia and Ava ran toward them.

  Thea’s features transformed. She opened her arms and waited for them to throw themselves against her. “You were amazing!” she said, bending to kiss each one. “The best dancing fawns ever.”

  “Did you see us, Daddy?” Amelia asked, moving to hug his legs.

  “I did, sweetie. You were incredible.”

  “I’m hungry,” Ava said, and Gavin wanted to twirl her around for the segue.

  “I’ll make you some macaroni and cheese when we get home,” Thea said.

  The whistling grew louder, but he was going to risk it. “You know what? I’m hungry too. Why don’t we go to Stella’s?”

  Stella’s was their favorite restaurant. They’d been taking the girls to the small downtown diner since they could sit up in high chairs.

  “Yeah, Mommy! Can we go to Stella’s?” Amelia asked.

  Gavin held his breath as he met Thea’s hard gaze. He swallowed. “You can tell me more about Vanderbilt,” he suggested.

  Thea shot him a glare that felt like a kick in the balls, but then she pasted on a happy smile for the girls. “That sounds great,” she said. “Why don’t you take the girls, and I’ll meet you there?”