My teammates can't know how much she tempts me. Her brother certainly can't know the things I'm imagining doing to her. We'll both keep pretending we're just having fun, even when she winds up sharing my bed in secret. We both agree it's harmless. Just casual. But when her old life comes calling, will I keep pretending, or will I put it all on the line?

I can explain the want ads for saucy male companionship I'm posting. I can even explain pretending to date the city's most notorious playboy. They say revenge is a dish best-served cold, but mine is going to be spicy, sizzling, and hilariously humiliating. My ex, Vaughn, cheated, stole from me, and worse. I refused to be the lovable, heartbroken heroine who hides under a pile of tissues and ice cream pints. Oh no, not me.

What does one do when they completely blow an interview? If you're me, you pick up a one-night stand with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.. That's right, after a lousy interview that could have changed everything for me, I headed over to the local small town bar to sulk when the one man I shouldn't want walked in. And when my friend convinced me to take him back to my hotel room, I didn't think about it, I just did it . . . well, I did him.

You’d think nearly dying trying to get out of a too-tight gown in a dressing room and being saved by a strong, competent man was a good thing. Not so much, though, when that strong, competent man is your ex. Your secret ex. And the reason you need a gown is because you’re part of a charity auction. The charity auction where he gets into a bidding war to win you. And now, because you’re one of few female coaches in professional baseball, and he’s the captain of the local professional hockey team, and he paid a ridiculous sum of money for you…

I also managed to get into the kind of coed naked trouble with him that involved a nurse, a shotgun, a feral turkey, and a pair of pliers. But all's well that ends well, and we already have plans to meet up again. It's early days, but I'm already thinking Drew might be the one.

If Renn Brewer would’ve asked me to marry him, I would’ve said no. Why? One, his reputation precedes him. His name is in the headlines at least once a month. Two, he’s not just my brother’s best friend. They’re teammates. And three, I’m in my self-care era. Unfortunately, a version of me equates self-care with bad choices.

I’m a curvy sports geek. Liam’s a hockey god. He’s way out of my league… My brother’s best friend is acting really weird. Flowers keep showing up. He sends me Cameos and concert tickets. Then, there’s the job offer… Well, first, there was the fact that he tracked me down to NYC. It’s really complicated, okay? But so are my feelings for him. I’ve been ignoring them for so long that they became a wall I’m comfortable hiding behind.

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.

Football star. Single dad. And once, a long time ago, mine. I’ve spent the better part of a decade forgetting Ford Ellis. If he had just stayed away from Montana, I might have erased the memory of his striking blue eyes and rugged smile forever. Avoiding him was easy when the only place I saw his face was on ESPN—and a remote control could fix that problem.

When my brother’s best friend asks me to fake marry him to secure a business deal he desperately needs, I laugh in his face. Me, help Carter Harrington? That’s split-your-pants, rip-roaring hilarious. I don’t even like him.

I’ve always been a wild card–the first to start a fight on the ice, and the life of the party off it–but appearances can be deceiving. Being traded to the Boston Rebels could not have come at a better time. With serious family obligations to fulfill and a contract renewal with a new hockey team on the line, I have no time for anything else. I return to Boston knowing I need to buckle down and focus on what really matters.

You know that instinct to run when something bad is coming? Yeah. I apparently missed out on that one. Because when Damon Rose came, instead of running, I got pregnant.

I can still pinpoint the exact second when my life became two truths and a lie. You don't forget delivering a mountain of fresh-baked sweets to a man like Dexter Rory. I never wanted to see his scowling, bossy, brutally godlike face again, no matter how well he tipped. If you told me I'd wind up wearing his ring, I would've died laughing. But here I am, trying to cling to my sanity while I confront the undeniable.

For some reason, my new boss has it out to get me. Innocent little me? I'm just a petite, talented, darling little thorn in his side. Okay, my words, not his. But he can't fire me unless I quit—long story. The joke's on him because I couldn't even quit chewing gum, let alone my dream job. So, I thought I had it handled.

There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t date Fletcher Huxley. He’s a growly-faced, stubborn-streaked, international rugby legend trying to revive his flailing career in the US after being canned by his team overseas. While he might have the good kind of thunder thighs, intriguing tattoos, and a booty of steel, he also holds the top position on my very short nemesis list thanks to what happened the first time we met.

My teammates can't know how much she tempts me. Her brother certainly can't know the things I'm imagining doing to her. We'll both keep pretending we're just having fun, even when she winds up sharing my bed in secret. We both agree it's harmless. Just casual. But when her old life comes calling, will I keep pretending, or will I put it all on the line?

I can explain the want ads for saucy male companionship I'm posting. I can even explain pretending to date the city's most notorious playboy. They say revenge is a dish best-served cold, but mine is going to be spicy, sizzling, and hilariously humiliating. My ex, Vaughn, cheated, stole from me, and worse. I refused to be the lovable, heartbroken heroine who hides under a pile of tissues and ice cream pints. Oh no, not me.

For some reason, my new boss has it out to get me. Innocent little me? I'm just a petite, talented, darling little thorn in his side. Okay, my words, not his. But he can't fire me unless I quit—long story. The joke's on him because I couldn't even quit chewing gum, let alone my dream job. So, I thought I had it handled.

Housekeeper for a stunningly handsome, male-model billionaire? Yep, that’s my job and it’s as dreamy as it sounds. I get to live in his ridiculously huge mansion, and all I have to do is take care of his mom and daughter, who are practically family. To top it off, the notoriously bossy Mr. King has been away for business since I started. But he came home today. Liam King looks like he stepped out of a GQ magazine, and the way he undresses me with his eyes should be illegal. He ignites my body. Every part of it. But It doesn’t matter how tempting he is. I can’t have him.

Dean Sharp is a breathtakingly gorgeous, arrogant, and an asshole. At least that’s my first impression when he knocks out my abusive boyfriend. When we get home, I know my boyfriend’s going to make me pay for what Dean did. But Dean Sharp isn’t done meddling in my life. He grabs me from outside my motel, throws me in his car, and says I’m his hostage. He doesn’t want money, though. He wants me to pretend to be his fiancee so his daughter and brothers don’t suspect anything. And he says he won’t let me go until he’s sure I’ll never go back to my abusive boyfriend.

My escape plan seemed foolproof—retreat to my brother's empty apartment after catching my ex with another man. But I stumble into an unexpected complication: his hockey player roommates... and I'm stark naked. Despite my mortifying entrance, and against my better judgment, they're willing to let me stay but with a few rules: 1. No funny business. 2. No telling the team captain—aka my brother, Harrison. 3. It's temporary until I can find somewhere else to live.

You’d think nearly dying trying to get out of a too-tight gown in a dressing room and being saved by a strong, competent man was a good thing. Not so much, though, when that strong, competent man is your ex. Your secret ex. And the reason you need a gown is because you’re part of a charity auction. The charity auction where he gets into a bidding war to win you. And now, because you’re one of few female coaches in professional baseball, and he’s the captain of the local professional hockey team, and he paid a ridiculous sum of money for you…

When I walked away from Makayla ten years ago, I swore I’d never look back. So did she, after the haunting lie I told her...But it was the only way to keep her safe and as far away from me as possible. She’s better off without me. I don’t care if I’m broken without her. But years later, when I’m hired by her agent to act as her bodyguard, I can’t keep myself away, especially when I learn how much danger she's in. Now she’s mine for a week, and I’m not going to let anything happen to her. Even if she seems intent on making my life a living hell.

The list of reasons I should stay away from my neighbor is about as long as his... wrench. He’s a dirty mechanic, he’s a single dad, and he can’t seem to keep his shirt on for more than five minutes. Did I mention his ex-wife is my best friend? Yeah. Reid Riggins is absolutely, one hundred percent, the last person in the world I should get involved with. Even if he is heart-stoppingly gorgeous with strong, powerful hands that could rip my clothes off with ease. Not that I’ve imagined that, of course.

They're both rich and powerful and have a debt to settle in the wealthy circles of NYC. Then there's me... the naive girl trying to make it in this city, pissed off and seemingly a willing pawn. It was supposed to be one night to get over one man by getting under another. Then one thing led to another, and it all spiraled out of control. It was never supposed to go this far.I was never supposed to fall for him. And he was never supposed to risk it all for me.