Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) by Lyssa Kay Adams

            Elena looped her arm through his and leaned into him. “You okay?”

            “I wouldn’t be without you.”

            “There you go again. So romantic.”

            “Elena?”

            She looked up at him. “Hmm?”

            “I need to tell you something.”

            Her lips parted. “What is it?”

            “I love you.”

            She sucked in her bottom lip as her eyes shone with a wet sheen. Around them, the noise of the crowd and the music faded. It was just them, suspended in a collision of past and present.

            After a torturously long moment, Elena raised her hand to cup his jaw. “I love you too.”

            Vlad wiped away the tear that dipped down her cheek, and then he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her lightly, lingering just long enough to let her know he meant it and couldn’t wait to start the rest of their lives.





Promise Me





“Down. Get down.”

            Tony grabbed Anna and dragged her back into the ditch. They flattened against the Earth as the rumble of trucks grew louder, closer. Tony covered her with his body as he peeked above the side.

            “What do you see?”

            He nearly fainted in relief. He rolled onto his back. “Americans. They’re Americans.”

            Tony lifted both hands in the air and slowly stood. A nervous private could still shoot his nuts off if he made too many fast moves. He approached the road, and one of the trucks slowed with a grind of the gears.

            “Press,” Tony panted. “American.”

            The driver tipped his cap. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”

            Anna scrambled up the side of the ditch. The driver winced. “Sorry, ma’am.”

            “We need a ride back,” she said. “Can you take us?”

            “We can get you as far as Minsk, but after that, I don’t know.”

            Anna and Tony jogged to the back of the truck. A young GI held out his hand to help Anna aboard, and Tony shot him a warning dagger with his eyes when the kid admired her too closely.

            Then he accepted the outstretched hand of one of the GIs. They sank against the hard benches. Anna closed her eyes and dropped her head back, panting.

            “Where you coming from?” Tony asked.

            “Barth,” the captain answered. “POW camp.”

            “We’re investigating the marches,” Tony said. “You find any evidence of them?”

            The captain spit on the wooden floor. “Fucking bastards. Some got away. But most that ran were shot. We picked up a couple of stragglers from the sixty-third and left them at the aide station.”

            Anna’s eyes flew open. “The sixty-third?”

            “Yeah,” the captain said. “Why?”

            Anna shot to her feet. Tony grabbed her arm. “I know what you’re thinking, but you can’t.”

            She pulled her arm away. “They were in the same camp as members of the 579th,” she breathed. Jack’s squadron. “I have to talk to them.”

            She stumbled as the truck lurched. “You can’t just jump off, Anna,” he said, but she was already threading her way toward the flap of the truck.

            She looked back at him. “I have to.”

            In his two years as a war correspondent, Tony had seen and experienced every kind of horror. But he’d never, not once, panicked the way he was panicking now. He watched her jump off the truck and hesitated a mere second before he took off after her. He landed awkwardly on his leg. “It’s too dangerous, Anna. These roads are still crawling with the enemy. I’ll be shot if we’re captured, but you—” A tortured noise cut off his words.