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

            “No, thank you,” Michelle said quickly. “It smells wonderful, but the girls will be back from their dad’s soon, so I should probably get home. I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.”

            “I’m good, good,” Vlad stammered. “The surgery went well.”

            “Are you in any pain?”

            “No. Not yet. Maybe when the morphine shot begins to wear off, though.”

            Every nervous utterance was a tiny needle in Elena’s nerves. Which was ridiculous. What did it matter that a pretty, kind woman had brought Vlad a homemade pie? Michelle met Elena’s gaze, and there was that smile again. Too genuine for Elena to trust it. She really was her father’s daughter.

            “Do you have everything you need? Can I do anything to help?” Michelle asked.

            The correct response was probably something like, That’s very kind, but all Elena could manage was, “We are fine for now.”

            “Well, if that changes, I am just a couple of blocks away.” Michelle shrugged with a deep breath. “I’ll get out of your hair now. Please do call me if you need anything.”

            “I will walk you out,” Elena said.

            “No need. I know the way. You have your hands full already.”

            Politeness dictated that Elena walk her to the door anyway. Jealousy sent her instead straight to the kitchen. Elena set the pie on the counter next to the bowl with dough for the pelmeni. Her enthusiasm for making them had selfishly waned.

            “Elena.”

            With a startled gasp, she spun around. Vlad stood just inside the kitchen, leaning on his crutches. She’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him approach.

            She smoothed the front of her sweatshirt. “Michelle seems really nice.”

            “She’s a friend from the neighborhood.” He spoke too carefully, as if he could see right through her.

            “It was nice of her to make this for you.” Elena gestured toward the pie. “Do you want a piece? Go back and sit down. I’ll bring it to you.”

            Vlad stared with an unblinking expression before giving her a brief nod of acknowledgment. His crutches pounded out a soft thud-scuff rhythm as he returned to the living room. As soon as he was gone, Elena leaned against the counter and sucked in a deep breath. She needed to get her shit together, to use an American phrase she’d grown especially fond of. Lusting over him? Shuddering over the touch of his hand? Flushing with jealousy over a woman sharing her pie? She had no right to feel any of it. She was here to help him heal, nothing more, because there could be nothing more. And if she was going to survive the time with him, she needed to remind herself as often as necessary that this was temporary. Once Vlad was healed, only one thing was in her future.

            Elena dug her phone from her pocket. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hammered out a text.

                             You said to call if I ever needed anything. Can we talk?





CHAPTER EIGHT





Elena awoke early the next morning because she wanted to make syrniki for breakfast. The Russian pancakes were another one of Vlad’s favorites and one more of many dishes she learned to make in his mother’s kitchen.

            She showered and twisted her wet hair atop her head before throwing on the only thing left that was clean—a pair of jogging shorts and a plain white T-shirt. Before heading downstairs, she peeked in at Vlad. He was asleep under only the sheet. Neighbor Cat was curled against his side.

            “Hussy,” Elena whispered.

            The cat blinked and stretched out her paws before burrowing closer into Vlad’s chest.

            Elena had just set out all the ingredients for breakfast when someone rang the doorbell. She apparently wasn’t the only person who’d gotten up early. Colton and Noah stood on the other side of the front door, both of them grinning.

            “Vlad is still asleep,” she said, letting them in. “But I was just about to start breakfast.”

            Colton rubbed his hands together. “I was hoping you’d say that. What’re you making?”