This bundle includes the first three books in the Rookie Rebels series. In the first book of the series, Good Guy, Levi makes his pro-hockey debut. Jordan is a dogged sports reporter determined to get a scoop. She's also his best friend's widow. In the second book, Instacrush, Elle's hot hockey player neighbor, Theo, is the most annoying man in the world. But one sexy Santa visit and one dinner later, she's pregnant. In the third book, Man Down, Gunnar has been texting the wife he lost, the one he loved beyond measure, but someone else answers back.

Running an engine crew in the Chicago Fire Department is my dream job, and between that, my awesome kid, and my nosey sister, I lead a pretty great life. Bruised and burned by my marriage, I don’t have time for dating or drama, but I always have time for pie. And when I share a slice of cherry with a sweet redhead, followed by the hottest, dirtiest, most pulse-pounding kiss of my life, I start to rethink the possibilities. Until that woman walks into my firehouse and upends my well-ordered world. 

Dante Moretti has just landed his dream job: GM of the Chicago Rebels. And screw the haters who think there should be an asterisk next to his name because he's the first out managing executive in pro hockey. He's earned the right to be here, and nothing will topple him off that perch—especially not an incredibly inconvenient attraction to his star defenseman, Cade "Alamo" Burnett. Cade has always been careful to keep his own desires on the down low, but his hot Italian boss proves to be a temptation he can't resist. Sure, they both have so much to lose, but no one will ever know.

If you ever get married, remember my name: Max Henderson. In my line of work, you acquire a certain perspective on supposedly everlasting unions. But some guys are willing to take a chance. Like my brother, who thinks he’s going to ride off into the sunset with the woman of his dreams in a haze of glitter on unicorns. And the wedding planner - the green-eyed beauty who makes a living convincing suckers to shell out thousands of dollars on centerpieces - is raking it in on this matrimonial monstrosity. As the best man, I know her game - and I can play it better than her.

Tristan Stiles is the bane of my existence. He never wears a shirt. We can’t seem to stop fighting. He’s an arrogant playboy with a filthy reputation. Sure, I had a crush on him when I was fourteen but that was a long time ago. I know better than to trust him. I just need to survive long enough to find a new job and get a new place. And not accidentally let Tristan show me exactly how well-deserved his reputation is.

My name is Rachel Price, and two months ago, I walked away from the perfect man. Sweet and funny, and so hot it should be illegal—we shared one magical night. No names. No strings. I never thought I'd see him again. I was wrong. It turns out Mr. Perfect is the playboy grinder for the Jacksonville Rays, the NHL's hottest new hockey team . . . and I'm his new physical therapist. Oh, and the jerk doesn't even recognize me!

Shy paleontologist Thea Pope just wants to get through her sister’s '80s-themed monstrosity of a TV reality-show wedding so she can get to her summer field work. The only problem? Her sister has turned into the ultimate bridezilla—as in pink parasols, organza hats, forcing people to shave and dye their hair levels of over-the-top, it’s-my-day antics—all while on location in a place literally called hell that reeks of sulfur and lost hopes.

His name is Pestilence. At least, that’s what they called him in college after an outbreak of a certain, ahem, intimately transmitted infection on campus. Now in his thirties, Leo St. James is fully reformed from his playboy past. He has a fiancée and everything. Oh, no, wait. He lied about that. His fiancée doesn’t exist. But when Leo’s boss sees him with his hand cupped around Amelia Darcy’s face, Leo has no choice but to call her his bride-to-be and promise to bring her to his company retreat.

Silas and I agree on one thing, and one thing only: my ruthless, heartless, narcissistic jerk of an ex-fiancé needs to be taken down a notch. So we do what anyone would do: we pretend to be a couple.

Call it superstition, but when a guy bats as hot as Brooks Elliott, you don’t mess with what’s working. And what’s working is him keeping his pants zipped and doing all of his scoring on the field. So when I hear he’s planning to ditch his V-card now that he’s been traded to baseball’s lovable losers - a.k.a. my home team and my reason for living every March through October - I do what any rational, dedicated, obsessed fan would do. I make a plan to stop him. But the thing about stopping him is that it requires spending time with him. Lots. And lots. And lots of time.

Trust me when I say that Rowan Michaels fever is alive and well at Western University. His fanbase is legendary. The guy is a major player. Both on and off the field. Girls fall all over themselves to be with him. They fill the stands at football practice, show up at parties he’s rumored to be at, and basically stalk him around campus. It’s a little nauseating. Don’t these girls have any self-respect when it comes to a hot guy? Fine...I’ll admit it, he’s good looking. If you’re into that kind of thing. Which I’m not.

I never had a thing for football players. That is, until I met Dallas Lockett. He’s the star player for the Salt Lake City Stallions. Football’s hottest, swooniest, most charming quarterback. A rich and famous playboy who could have anyone he wants. Yet for some reason, he wants me. The first big problem? Dallas has a strict no-girlfriend policy during the season. A policy which he - and his teammates - make very clear to me. But based on the way he looks at me in the locker room, that policy is being stretched to its limit.

Roan King. The uncrowned king of Barnett University. He's like a freaking celebrity around here. It's totally ridiculous. People, by which I mean grown women, actually stalk him on the internet. And around campus. Apparently, he's God's gift to both football and the ladies (I'm using that term loosely). All he has to do is smile, and girls fall right onto their backs before spreading their legs wide. I've heard that he's already plowed his way through half the female population at Barnett.

"I want your sperm." Those were Shelby Grant's first words to me. Didn't even want me to buy her a drink first. See, Shelby isn't like other women. After researching Denver's most eligible bachelors in search of her ideal sperm donor, she chose me. As a pro hockey player, I'm used to women wanting things from me, but my swimmers? That's a new one. Somehow, though, with her color-coded parenting plan, sales pitch, and contract, Shelby sells me on the idea. After my donation, she doesn't want anything more to do with me.

Strange men do funny things when you score the last cinnamon roll. Sometimes he rages about the high crime of jacking his precious pastry. Sometimes he offers you ludicrous bribes to buy it back. And sometimes—after shattering your faith in humanity—you find out he's your new boss. I'm not laughing.