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

            “Syrniki. They’re like pancakes with cheese in the batter.”

            “Cheese pancakes?” Colton said. “I’m going to eat the shit out of those.”

            Noah handed over a pastry bag that matched the one from yesterday. “A present from Alexis, my fiancée.”

            Elena peeked inside to find a variety of pastries. “Wow, please tell Alexis I said thank you.”

            “You got any coffee going?” Colton asked, holding his fist to a yawn.

            “Um, no.”

            “I’ll do it,” Colton said.

            Another car pulled into the driveway. Elena peeked through the window.

            “That’ll be Mack and Malcolm,” Noah said, following Colton toward the kitchen.

            Elena opened the door again, and sure enough, Mack and Malcolm strolled up the sidewalk. “You guys are here to bathe my husband too?”

            “It’s the highlight of our day,” Mack said. “Bro’s got an ass that won’t quit.”

            “Um—” Elena shut the door.

            “Ignore him,” Malcolm said. Then he bent and kissed Elena’s cheek. She had no response other than stunned disbelief as he followed Mack to the kitchen. Yesterday, Elena had been convinced Vlad’s friends hated her, and now a kiss on the cheek and pastry gifts? Elena wanted to pound the heel of her hand against her head, because once again she felt like cobwebs were growing in her mind. Like she’d been dropped into the second act of a play.

            She returned to the kitchen to find Colton filling the coffee maker with water. Mack sat on the floor with Neighbor Cat in his lap. He looked up. “I didn’t know you guys had a cat.”

            “We don’t. Er, I mean, Vlad doesn’t. It’s not his cat.”

            Mack’s hands paused in the act of petting the cat’s fur. “Whose cat is it?”

            “I don’t know. Animals just show up here a lot.”

            Noah snorted. “Of course they do.”

            Elena began to work on the pancake dough—syrniki was not made with the kind of liquid batter Americans were used to—but another knock at the door brought a quick interruption. She looked at the guys. Mack shrugged. “We’re all here. Gavin, Del, and Yan have an early game today, so they aren’t coming.”

            Elena gulped. That could only mean one thing. She returned to the front door slowly, as if she’d filled her house slippers with pebbles. This time, the face on the other side of the door greeted her with what Elena assumed was a permanent scowl. Elena fought the urge to cross herself as she opened the door. “Good morn—”

            Claud pushed her way inside. “Where is he?”

            “It is lovely to see you, too, Claud. Vlad is still asleep.”

            “Go wake him up,” Claud demanded.

            Linda let out a long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry about her. Truly. She’s grumpy in the morning.”

            Elena lifted an eyebrow. “Just in the morning?”

            Andrea walked in last with a dish in her hands. “I made a quiche.”

            “Do you know what a quiche is?” Claud asked.

            “Yes, I know what a quiche is. I grew up in Russia, not on the moon.” She returned her attention to Andrea. “Thank you. I am just about to make breakfast, but I’m sure Vlad will enjoy this, as well.”

            “Whose cars are in the driveway?” Claud asked as they all returned to the kitchen. She stopped short at the sight of Colton, Malcolm, and Noah gathered around the island. Mack was still on the floor with the cat.

            “I know you,” Claud said, pointing at Colton. “You’re that country singer Vlad hangs out with. Cat Whaler or whatever.”

            Mack and Noah laughed into their coffee mugs. Colton tipped the brim of his nonexistent hat and winked. “Cat Whaler, at your service.”