I hate my new roommate. And I want to do dirty, delicious things to her in that swing she installed that we both know has nothing to do with aerial yoga. Neither of which is good, considering Diana Daniels is my NHL team captain's little sister, and he will break my face if I'm not a perfect gentleman. I try to be. Really, I do. But Diana has all sorts of Jedi mind tricks to make a man obsessed with getting her into bed, and I'm not gonna lie - I fall for every single one of them.

Looking up into Alexi Petrov’s dark eyes as I break the news, I’m scared out of my mind. This man is the most terrifying defender in the NHL, and if it weren't for my sporty new baby bump, I probably wouldn't believe we hooked up that night. (Yes, I’ve sworn off margaritas for life.) But the Alexi who goes to my doctor appointments, moves me into his guesthouse, and cooks me so many gourmet meals I look like I'm carrying twins? He isn’t scary at all.

Bree Marks is my best friend and my secret crush. And cursed with a deadly allergy to erecto-plasm. As in, she’ll seriously swell up and die if seminal fluid even touches her. Which means finding the perfect guy to punch her V card is literally a matter of life and death. She wants a no-strings summer fling, but she needs someone she can trust. A puck buddy who isn’t going to get overly emotional. That’s where I come in. It’s a simple request, really - and one I would be happy to honor. If it weren’t for the whole life-and-death thing.

Cammy’s my best friend - the one person I can’t live without, the girl with the sunshine smile, the loaded fridge, and the most awesome kid I’ve ever met. She’s also the hot AF single mom I’ve made it my mission to protect from guys like me. And I won’t risk ruining our friendship by pushing for something more. I’m not that guy. I’m the good time, the class clown, the hockey stud. I’m the happy-for-now, not the happily-ever-after. 

She’s the last woman on earth I’d marry...again. Yet here I am. Saying my vows. Again. To save an alpaca. At least, that’s my story. But the truth might be a little more complicated. I didn’t want to let her go the first time. But now I have a second chance to win over my wife. We’re older. Wiser. And hornier. This time, I won’t fail. Hitched is a red-hot enemies-to-lovers laugh-a-palooza featuring a girl in need of a marriage of convenience and a man in need of a cold shower to keep from falling for his fake wife.

This team hates me. Something about my chronic case of resting prick face and that thing with the captain when the season started. My fist, his jaw. Coach says no more “confrontational BS” or I don’t play at all. And that’s a hit my career in the NHL can’t take. So I'll keep my head down and finish out my contract. There’s just one problem. Allie. The girl from Vancouver eight months ago with the sexy, shy, and sinfully bold smile. The girl who blew my mind and then blew out of my life without giving me her number. Turns out she’s the captain’s little sister.

I didn’t mean to kidnap the groom. It was an accident. Mostly.... At least I didn't take much time to plan it. It was more of a spur of the moment kidnapping. Does that count? One minute, the town’s bad boy is standing at the altar about to marry the world’s most evil kindergarten teacher. The next, he’s passed out in my Vespa sidecar with his bride hot on our tail. But I couldn't stand by and watch Jace O’Dell be blackmailed into a loveless marriage. And besides, what’s a little kidnapping between friends? Okay, so maybe we’re not just friends....

If I had to pick a bride of convenience, my first choice would not be Peach Maloney. My 50th choice would not be Peach. Top spot on my list of occupational hazards? Yes. Royal pain in the crumpets? Yes. A bride of convenience? No. But I've unexpectedly gone from royal bodyguard to monarch, having inherited a crown that was stolen from my family long before my birth. The kicker? In order to take the throne, I must find a wife. Have I mentioned Peach would not have been my 100th choice? But I've no other options, and she needs a favor that my new position can fulfill quite nicely.

Nick Murphy. Hockey god. My best friend’s big brother. My friend with mind-blowing benefits. The best thing to happen to my nether regions since my subscription to the toy of the month club. The man I’ve been secretly in love with for years. And a total ass. I am so done with him. Except there’s one small problem. Now that I’ve cut him off, his hockey game is in the toilet. He’s convinced I’m his good luck charm, and he wants me back. But only for his game.

I should walk away, find some puck bunny to gleefully sit on my lap and tell me what a big, hot hockey stud I am - totally true, BTW. But there’s just something about this feisty redhead I can’t let go. She’s got an edge to her that’s sexy as hell and a smart mouth that’s been tying me up since the night I met her. She tells me to forget it, we’re not happening. But she’s not the kind of woman a guy ever forgets. Especially when the air starts to sizzle and pop every time we get within 10 feet of each other.

A rock star kidnaps a runaway bride...Kidnapping the bride seemed like a good idea at the time. Her fiancé stole my fortune, so I stole his woman. Tit for tat. Or tat for tit. However you want to look at it. The one thing I didn’t expect? Willow Honeycutt, preschool teacher, boy band super fan, is completely crazy. And somehow she’s turned the tables on me.

There are three things I hate: Bratwurst in any form, my neighbors boinking like farm animals at 3 AM, and Chase Jett. Mostly I hate Chase Jett. It's been 10 years since he took my virginity - I'd make a bratwurst joke, but the unfortunate truth is that it would have to be a brat-best joke, and yes, it kills me to admit that - and now he's not only a billionaire, he's also my new boss.

After Violet saves the day with the highest bid, I don't even give her a two-minute warning before I kiss her in front of the whole crowd, and then announce that she's my girlfriend. Which would be fine, except my agent tells me we've got to keep up the act while he's negotiating my contract. Violet takes one for the team and pretends to be mine, but our boyfriend-girlfriend scrimmage quickly turns into a full contact sport, and I want it to go into overtime. The problem is - I've been riding the bench for years.

When you work hard and have the bank account to prove it, you're entitled to play hard. I've seen some crazy things. I've caused some crazy scenes. And there's no shame in my game. But I'm still knocked off my stilettos when an insane chain of events leads to me inheriting a baby. The craziest part? The baby comes with a by-the-books, no-nonsense retired Marine who's so regimented that I wouldn't be surprised if he irons his boxer shorts. 

Large and in charge? Honey, I'm the biggest, baddest, mother pucking-est machine to ever own the ice. I shoot. I score. In and out of the rink. I don't come early, but I come often, if you know what I mean. And I always leave the ladies wanting more. Until that chick last night. I'm no one-thrust wonder, and you're damn right I'm going to prove to her I can do better. But every time I think I'm finally on my way back into her pants, she one-ups and out-balls me. I should cut my losses, lick my wounds, and walk away. But Zeus Berger doesn't walk away from anything.