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

            “Then yes,” Elena breathed. “Coffee would be very nice.”

            Elena’s stomach churned as she walked down the hallway. The walls were lined with framed professional photos of Michelle and her girls. This was a happy family. This is what Vlad wanted. What he deserved. What she had denied him with her immaturity and selfishness.

            The kitchen was clean but cluttered. A small stack of dirty dishes filled one side of the sink, and someone had forgotten to put away the bread and peanut butter after making a sandwich.

            “Excuse the mess,” Michelle said as she pulled another mug from a cupboard. “I didn’t have a lot of time before the party to clean up last night, and I slept in this morning.”

            “It’s not messy. It just looks like a family lives here.”

            Michelle smiled as she filled Elena’s mug. “We tend to live a lot messier than most. My girls are pretty active.”

            “How old are they?”

            Michelle handed the coffee to Elena. “Seven and ten. Cream or sugar?”

            “Sure. If you have them.”

            Michelle laughed again. “Are you kidding? Only a psycho drinks it black.”

            Elena’s shoulders lost some of their coiled tension. Michelle was a lot more relatable than Elena realized.

            “Shall we sit?” Michelle gestured toward the living room just beyond the kitchen. The house was a wide, open-concept style, which was probably good for a mom. She could cook dinner and still see the kids.

            Elena followed Michelle to a long sectional couch and sat down on the end opposite her. Various toys were strewn across the floor, and a suspicious cat stared from behind the leg of a decorative table.

            “What is your cat’s name?”

            “Dolphin.”

            At Elena’s questioning glance, Michelle laughed. “The girls named him. They thought it was hilarious.”

            “Vlad loves cats.”

            Michelle tilted her head. “Yes, he has told me that before.”

            Elena looked around the room again. As much as it pained her to admit it, Vlad would fit in so nicely here. Michelle’s house was soft and homey. Cozy and welcoming. Mismatched pillows decorated the couch, big fluffy things that would be perfect for a nap on a football Sunday and for cuddling on cold winter nights.

            “Do your kids like Vlad?”

            Michelle’s coffee mug stalled halfway to her mouth. “Um, yes, of course. I mean, they don’t know him very well, but—”

            “Vlad is very good with children. He will make an excellent father someday.”

            “I’m sure he will be . . . someday.”

            “You can tell a lot about a man by how he treats animals. And Vlad is so gentle with animals.”

            “I suppose that is true.”

            “Are your girls asleep?”

            “No. They are with their father this weekend.”

            “What—what happened with your husband?” Elena shook her head and winced. “I’m sorry. Forget I asked that. We barely know each other. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is an interview subject.”

            Michelle let out a quiet laugh. “It’s okay. Really. I don’t mind talking about it anymore. And frankly, I don’t have a lot of female friends my age, so it’s kind of nice to talk to someone, I guess.”

            More tension eased from her shoulders. “I don’t have a lot of friends either.”

            Of any age. She wondered if Michelle noticed the omission. Except for Vlad, Elena had never had any real friends. Her father’s job made it too risky for her to venture outside the tiny circle he trusted when she was growing up. While other kids her age were out having fun, playing sports, and dating, she was at home or at Vlad’s.

            “My ex-husband,” Michelle said, inhaling. She let it out slowly. “He’s a lawyer and worked, works, long hours. I have a degree in library science, but I was working part-time because of the kids and his hours. I came home one day not feeling well, and he was here. And he was not alone.”