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

            “How dare you!” She planted her hands on his chest and shoved. He stumbled more out of surprise than from her strength. “How dare you judge me when you know good and well that you’re perfectly fit for service. I’m doing everything I can for the war. What about you?”

            “Tony.”

            The sound of his name from that unforgettable smoky voice brought him around and into a collision with brown doe eyes and red bow lips that he hoped he’d never see again. “You’re late.”

            “I had to stop at the hair salon first in my charm offensive across Europe.” Sarcasm dripped like hot tar from her voice as she threw his own words back at him.

            She extended a gloved hand to Private Rogers. “Anna Goreva.”

            The poor kid turned red and stammered like he’d just met a Hollywood starlet. Christ.

            “Go get the jeep and come back for us,” Tony barked.

            As the private sauntered off, Anna eyed him coolly. “I see your personality hasn’t improved since the last time I worked with you.”

            He inched closer to her, as close as he dared. “Let’s get one thing clear, Anna. I didn’t want you on this assignment, so if you hope to stay on it, you do what exactly what I say.”

            “No.”

            “No?”

            “I’m here because you need me. I speak Russian. You don’t.” She cocked a hip and raised an eyebrow. “This time, we’re doing things my way.”





CHAPTER SIX





Three things in life terrified Vlad.

            A flare-up without a bathroom in sight.

            Running over an animal with his car.

            And this. Waking up to find his friends circling his bed, their arms crossed and eyes narrowed in matching expressions of resistance is futile.

            He was about to get book clubbed.

            Vlad scooted high on the mattress against the headboard and prepared for the onslaught. At the last second, he grabbed a pillow to hug. “Where is Elena?”

            “She left a note on the counter that she went out to get groceries,” Noah said.

            “Which is good,” Malcolm added, “because it would be best if she weren’t around to hear what we have to say to you.”

            Vlad gulped.

            “You have no idea how pissed we are at you,” Mack said. “And since we’ve never been pissed at you, even that pisses us off.”

            “I’m sorry—”

            Malcolm cut him off with a point as a single, intimidating eyebrow arched over his eye. “First, we bathe you, because, damn. And then you tell us everything.”

            Vlad nodded. There was no point in doing anything else.

            Malcolm looked at Colton and Del and then nodded with his chin. “Help him into the bathroom. I’ll get the water started.”

            Colton and Del each took a side and helped Vlad out of bed. Colton whiffed and grimaced as they helped him to the bathroom. “Jesus, man. You really stink.”

            Vlad scowled. “I am a hockey player, and I have not showered for two days.”

            “Damn,” Del said, pretending to gag. “And I thought baseball players stank.”

            Gavin hovered closely behind. “I’ve actually heard that baseball clubhouses are way smellier than any other professional sport.”

            Malcolm snorted. “Who the fuck told you that?”

            Gavin shrugged. “A reporter told me that once.”

            “There is no way that is true,” Vlad said, voice straining as he eased sideways to squeeze through the bathroom door. “Hockey gear? It smells like rancid bear.”

            Malcolm turned on the water in the tub, so Gavin had to raise his voice to be heard. “Yeah, b-but baseball players are out in the hot sun for hours.”