After complaining that I work too much, my mom and sister have stolen my phone and tricked me into a vacation. They insist I'm going to enjoy this charming small town. My cousin Doug lives here. We grew up together, and he's basically like a brother. He's finally asked Claire, the woman he's infatuated with, to go on a date with him. He tells me he's in love with her and even sees wedding bells in their future. But then Doug gets called away on an emergency and comes up with a crazy plan. He thinks I should take Claire out instead... I never should have agreed to it.

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 caught her staring at me from across the quad, eyes fixed on the football jersey stretched across my wide chest. And if I flexed my muscles, showing off the strength of a defensive tackle, it was just to see her blush. And then she did, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. Her wide eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. I needed to know her. The girl who scampered away every time we bumped into each other—by accident and by design.

The hottest rock star in the world walking into my work wasn’t on my bingo card. Speak of the devil . . . My soon-to-be ex-husband. Shane Faris is taller than I remember. Scruffier. More attractive than ever and sporting a sinful smirk that tells me he hears “Yes” too much. Figures. He offers me the divorce I want, but on one condition . . . Two nights together, for old times' sake.

A week ago, if you told me my boyfriend was cheating on me, I would have called you a liar. If you said a movie star would walk into my bakery and offer to help make my ex jealous, I would have thought you'd eaten one too many of my grandmother's special brownies. And if you had the audacity to suggest my fake date would turn into the love of my life? I would have told you to stop toying with me. I've been through enough disappointment lately.

Tessie Truelove has spent her entire life avoiding . . . well, true love. And why wouldn't she? Her dog ran off, her father left to go get cigarettes and never came back, and her mother passed away years ago. Instead, Tessie, a celebrity interior designer, clings to her to-do lists and her Pantone colors and her toxic job to avoid more heartbreak. But after too much whiskey and a wild night with a rugged stranger has her seeing two little pink lines, she vows to do motherhood all by herself. After all, it might be her one shot at true love.

Yes, I’m a single dad who needs a nanny for the summer. But hiring the stranded runaway bride who shows up on my doorstep in a wedding gown with no references, no skills, and no experience? No one is that desperate.

In truth, it probably didn’t help that I showed up dressed like an elf but that’s a story for another time. Our start was rocky at best which is why it’s so frustrating that I can’t stop thinking about his sexy British accent. Or the way his chest and arms fill out his suit. Or his perfect hair with that single streak of grey at the front.

The first time I met the grumpy lumberjack next door, I almost burnt down his cabin. The second time, I was throwing tampons at a moose (don't ask). The third time, I was naked. Henri Gagnon is not just my neighbor and landlord but a pain in my optimistic, plus-sized ass. He's got a protective streak under his grumpy exterior, and he's convinced I won't make it through the Maine winter.

I didn’t know bridesmaid was code for babysitter for the bride’s brother, but if that’s what my best friend needs of me for her dream wedding to go off without a hitch, that’s what I’ll do. Even if Theo Monroe has been a pain in my rear since third grade. Even if he should be responsible enough to not wreak havoc at his sister’s destination wedding.

Whip King cannot be the man for me. Cocky, pierced firefighters are perfect for late-night rom-coms, but in real life they’re nothing but trouble. Especially when you find out they work for your dad—after you’ve already slept with them. Moving to my parents’ small town was supposed to be the fresh start I was looking for. When a disastrous Valentine’s Day leads to an unexpected encounter with a sexy stranger, and ends with the hottest night of my life, I didn’t think I would ever see Whip again.

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.

I was a small-town girl with big city dreams and more ambition than money to my name. He had everything—money, privilege, and the world at his feet. Opposites in every way, but that didn’t matter. We were lightning in a bottle, and everything felt possible when we were together. Life was perfect.

I’d been in Curmudgeon Bakery for one of those lemon baby-Bundt cakes I’d been craving since I found out I was pregnant. The draw had nothing to do with the baker himself. Tall, tatted, and edgy, he looked more like a biker than a man who makes baked goods. I hardly knew him other than taking a tumble in a rainstorm in front of his shop... and then tossing myself at him after he rescued me. We shared a moment, but it’s not what you’d think. Months later, he delivered my baby among his cookies and cakes. Talk about a second chance encounter.

When grumpy ex-footballer Alfie Harding gets badgered into selling his memoirs, he knows he’s never going to be able to write them. He hates revealing a single thing about himself, is allergic to most emotions, and can’t imagine doing a good job of putting pen to paper. And so in walks curvy, cheery, cute as heck ghostwriter Mabel Willicker, who knows just how to sunshine and sass her way into getting every little detail out of Alfie. They banter and bicker their way to writing his life story, both of them sure they’ll never be anything other than at odds.