I’m desperate and destitute when Lockwood Construction rolls into my small town with an offer too good to pass up: high wages to any able-bodied man willing to join their crew. Say no more. I throw on baggy clothes, tuck my long hair under a baseball hat, and apply for a job. Unfortunately, my half-baked idea of disguising myself as a guy is flawed from the beginning. As Shakira says, these hips don’t lie.  Still, I like to think I might have pulled the whole thing off save for one thing: I know my boss.

The first time you meet someone, you make eye contact. You smile, say hello. Should be simple, if you're anyone but me. The first time I met Dylan Reed, I found myself making eye contact with a different part of his body. You see, I'm very good at being shy, not to mention extremely well-versed in rambling nonsense and, unfortunately, rather highly skilled at making a fool of myself in front of a guy I'm attracted to. At the time, I knew nothing about him and thought none of what I said would matter since I'd never speak to him again. Turns out, I was very wrong.

Some things are easily forgiven. Other things...not so much. Lenny DeMaio made herself a promise: She was done. Done thinking about him. Done worrying about him. Done reaching out to a man who clearly didn’t want to be found. Too bad no one gave Jonah Collins the memo.

It should be the most shocking news I’d ever gotten - my boyfriend is getting married. Okay, technically he’s my ex-boyfriend. Two months ago he decided he wanted a break. I still thought he was my happily-ever-after. On any other day, knowing he was gone for good would be the worst thing that could possibly happen. But not today. Because not only is my boyfriend getting married - his bride is my best friend. And they’ve sent me an invitation. There’s no way I’m going to attend. I don’t care if it’s in beautiful Scotland. Nothing and no one could convince me.

The first time I met Hudson Rothschild was at a wedding. I’d received an unexpected invitation to one of the swankiest venues in the city. Hudson was a groomsman and quite possibly the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He asked me to dance, and our chemistry was off the charts. I knew it wasn’t a good idea to get involved with him, considering the wedding I was at. But our connection was intense, and I was having a great time. Though the fun came to a screeching halt when Hudson figured out I wasn’t who I’d said I was.

Deacon was rough on the exterior, but apparently on the inside? Mr. Single-and-Ready-to-Mingle was a baby whisperer. After that night, we became friends. He’d go for coffee runs. Come over to chat. Normal friend stuff. But over time, our conversations ran deeper. We got closer. Until one night we crossed the line.  

Being labelled a player never stopped me from being successful with women. Until I met Truly Harbury. Truly was the first girl who ever turned me down. And she might just be the first woman with whom I ever fall in love. When an emergency means she needs my help running her family’s charity, I’m happy to introduce her to the glitz and glamour of the London business world - taking her to dinners, coaching her through speeches, zipping up the sexy evening gown I helped her pick out. The more time we spend together, the more I want to convince her I’m not a man to avoid.

Dear Sexy AF Intern, I know you don't care that I'm the CEO of this company, and you're just an intern. I also know you're not impressed by my power or my wealth, and that's fine. You think you've got me all figured out from working alongside me for two weeks, but you don't know me. Not really. You don't know that I'm a single dad to twin toddlers, or that those two little girls matter more to me than this entire hotel chain. I'm not interested in starting something deep and meaningful, but what I am interested in is the way your body reacts to mine when we're in the same room.

They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I’d had four years to stew on what Daria Followhill did to me...now my heart was completely iced. I took her first kiss. She took the only thing I loved. I was poor. She was rich. The good thing about circumstances? They can change. Fast. Now, I’m her parents’ latest shiny project. Her housemate. Her tormentor. The captain of the rival football team she hates so much. Yeah, baby girl, say it. I’m your foster brother. There’s a price to pay for ruining the only good thing in my life. She’s about to shell out some serious tears.

It started out like any normal day. Then the fender bender happened. The guy I collided with drove an expensive car and was drop-dead gorgeous. Too bad he was also a total jerk. We argued over whose fault it was and any other thing that came out of his condescending mouth. Eventually, the police came and we went our separate ways. The insurance companies would have to figure things out. I had a job interview to get to anyway - one I was excited about. Though that excitement changed to disappointment the moment the person interviewing me walked in. The guy from the accident. 

It’s natural to want the one you can’t have. And for as long as I could remember, I’d secretly wanted my brother’s best friend, Jace. He was six years older and always treated me like the sister he never had. Fast forward a decade. We were all in our 20s now. Jace had moved in with my brother, Nathan, and me to help us make ends meet after our parents died. It was just the three of us - an odd family dynamic. Living under our roof, Jace was as bossy and protective as ever. But he certainly didn’t look at me like a sister anymore. That was what made things so complicated.

It all started with a sexy selfie. Texted to the wrong number. Oops. Not my finest moment - but I have nothing to be ashamed of. She thought I was no better, and I quote, than the knuckle-dragging douchebags she was never dating again. It was a stupid dare from a girl I’d met online, but since she’d given me a fake number, I didn’t feel bad that my interests were suddenly focused elsewhere - on the fiery and sharp-tongued Peyton that I found myself sparring with over text. The following day, my case of mistaken identity came back to bite me in the banana.

They say bad things happen in threes. After my boyfriend broke off our engagement, I lost my apartment, and was laid off from my job, I can definitely attest to that. They also say life is what happens when you say yes to new adventures. So when my two sisters invited me to ring in the new year in Ireland, I decided to throw all caution to the wind and go for it. I was going to let "saying yes" be my new resolution. Little did I know I'd spend New Year's Eve having a hot and dirty one-night stand with Padraig McCarthy, one hell of a sexy Irishman.

The feud between Weston Lockwood and me started at the altar. Only neither of us attended the wedding, and the nuptials happened decades before either of us was born. Our grandfathers had been best friends and business partners, at least up until my grandfather’s wedding day - when his bride-to-be blurted out she couldn’t marry him because she was also in love with Weston‘s grandfather.  

I was upgraded to first class on a flight from London to New York. The food, champagne, and service were impeccable. The blue-eyed man sitting next to me, even better. He was suave and intelligent. We talked and laughed, and something clicked. Fate took over and the plane was grounded, and we had an unexpected stopover for the night. With no plans, we made our own.