Colton picked up her hand from where it rested on the console between them and kissed her knuckles. “I promise. It’s a romance novel. A happy ending is the only requirement.”
“But this is impossible. She lives in California. He lives in Michigan. She still wants to sell that house and he still wants her to keep it.”
“Have faith.”
“I don’t know. I don’t see why he would fall for her. She’s so grumpy all the time.”
“Weird how that can happen, isn’t it?”
She tried to pull her hand away with a disgruntled noise, but he held fast and pulled it back to his lips. “The sunshiny one always falls for the grumpy one, honey. It’s science.”
Vlad’s house was bright with Christmas lights when they pulled into his driveway.
“Are they going to make a big deal out of this?”
Colton’s hand was poised to knock on Vlad’s front door when Gretchen spoke. She stood next to him on the stoop in her practical black coat and the same turtleneck sweater she’d worn on their first date, but it was the way she gnawed at her bottom lip that caught his attention.
“A big deal?”
“Like shriek and yell, Oh my God, they’re here, and pat you on the back and say, It’s about fuckin’ time, and all that stuff?”
“Well, it is about fuckin’ time,” Colton said, bending to kiss her upturned lips. “But no, they’re not going to make a big deal out of it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Why? You still embarrassed to be seen with me?”
“I have a reputation to uphold.”
The door flew open, and a frazzled Noah glowered from across the threshold. His hair stood on end as if he’d been trying to yank it out, and red fuzz clung to the front of his navy sweater vest. He wore a flannel shirt under it and was officially the only man alive who could wear an outfit like that and not resemble a Teddy Graham.
“Where have you been?” Noah grumbled.
Colton stepped to the side to let Gretchen go in first. Noah offered her a tight smile. “Hey, Gretchen, good to see you.”
“You too,” she said, shrugging out of her coat. “Are we late?”
Noah turned back to Colton. “You were supposed to be here a half hour ago.”
“We got delayed.” And this time, it was a euphemism. An energetic, quick one that Colton would’ve been happy to continue all night long.
“Well, we need you,” Noah said, shutting the door.
“What’s wrong?” Colton set down the bag of wrapped toys and his guitar case so he could take off his coat.
“Vlad is nervous.”
“Tell him I’ll be there in a minute.”
Noah stomped to the stairs and raced up them two at a time.
“What’s Vlad nervous about?” Gretchen asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.”
“I know, but this one is great.” Colton pressed his lips to hers again and then— “Oh my God!” A joyous shriek brought them apart. Gretchen whipped around as if they’d just been busted again by her parents. At the end of the hallway stood Liv, a glass in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. On her face was a grin so wide that her cheeks appeared to strain in protest. Then, as if in a slow-motion scene from a horror movie, Liv turned around and yelled, “They’re here!”
An excited cheer erupted from the kitchen. Gretchen skewered him with a look that would’ve wilted any other man but made him want to haul her into an empty room and beg for mercy. But there wasn’t time for even a quick apology kiss because Liv was now racing toward them. She’d shifted both the glass and wine to one hand, freeing up the other to grab Gretchen’s arm and start to tug.
“Come with me,” Liv ordered. She gave Colton a saccharine smile. “We’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.”
Gretchen looked back at him over her shoulder and mouthed Help me. He was absolutely going to pay for this later.
He couldn’t wait.
“Are you coming or what?” Noah yelled from upstairs.
Grabbing the bag of toys, Colton took the stairs two at a time and hung a left turn toward Vlad’s bedroom. He found the guys in various stages of exasperated collapse around the room. Mack was flat on his back on the bed, arms spread-eagled, a blank stare in his eyes. Malcolm was slouched in a chair by the window, absently stroking his beard and muttering under his breath. Gavin and Del were playing catch with what appeared to be a balled-up pair of socks. Yan had apparently just given up. He sat on the floor, back against Vlad’s dresser, scrolling on his phone.