I’m falling for the father of the baby I’m carrying. The problem is: it’s not my baby. And the broody widower is not looking for a long-term partner. As a surrogate, the deal was that I’d only be in England long enough to give birth. At first, the man seemed as pretentious as his name: Sigmund Benedictus. He and I butted heads. Sig challenged my intentions, accused me of just wanting to do this for the money. Gradually, he learned to trust me.

At first, I thought I’d hate spending the summer with Archie Remington—the conceited son of my parents’ friends. What I knew about Archie: He was gorgeous, pre-law, and had always treated me like I didn’t exist when we were younger. When our families bought a house together on an island in Maine, he and I were forced to share a bathroom.

It was a heat-of-the-moment agreement scribbled onto the back of a crinkled gas station receipt nine years ago. "If neither of us is married by age 30, we'll marry each other." Haha! So funny! Cash moved to a city 500 miles away, built his billion-dollar empire, and made a name for himself. Me? I stayed in our gossipy hometown, working a simple job and living a simple life. And we never discussed the marriage pact again. But I just turned the big three-oh, and Cash showed up at my door in the middle of a freaking rainstorm. 

She has no idea who I am. I immediately like that about her. The gorgeous woman who sat down at the blackjack table beside me and asked me to teach her to play doesn't recognize me as the third baseman who played pro baseball for seven years. I tell her I'm in town for a job offer when the truth is my buddy just asked me to leave my quiet existence in San Diego and unretire so I can lead the new Vegas Heat expansion team to the championship.

If the Upper East Side had an evil twin, it would be Tickled Pink, Wisconsin. This run-down, backwoods town isn’t worthy of the footprint of my Louboutins, never mind all of me. But when my grandmother has a near-death experience and realizes we Lightlys can’t buy our way into heaven, she relocates the family to Tickled Pink to work on improving our souls. And that’s how I trade my heiress existence for gigantic bugs, dishwater coffee, and a cranky single dad named Teague Miller.

When handsome California surf god Lincoln Savage suddenly rolls into Ocean Beach like a rogue wave, shy beauty Simone Bianchi's foundation is shaken. No longer under the thumb of her domineering father, she's made a simple, quiet life for herself and her fluffy, 14-pound Havanese pup running a surf shop in her hometown of OB. Long ago she gave up her dreams for a future with Linc.

Rule number one for dating your best friend’s sister: Don’t. Just don’t do it. Especially when your best friend is dead and the last thing he made you promise him was that you’d keep an eye on his little sister, but not too good of an eye.

The start of Lee Burrows and I was a college girl’s biggest fantasy. Campus’ most popular guy, the starting quarterback, the same guy I’ve crushed on forever, notices me—the quiet introvert. Although, he never would’ve noticed me if he didn’t need my help passing our biology class. I didn’t think I had a chance with him until he started flirting with me and asking me questions like, “Who was the guy you were talking to?” and “Do you have a boyfriend?”

He was the mysterious dark knight, always swooping in to save me when I needed it the most. I was the troubled girl with scars and a bleeding heart. He was the gifted guitarist destined for big things. I was the small-town girl battling her demons. He was my earth, always keeping me grounded. I was his sky, always just out of his reach. Our love was everything I wished for—until I destroyed it.

My contract is up with the Carolina Comets this year, and I need to get it together if I want to stay with the team. I need relaxation, not a relationship. But when I’m scrolling on a dating app and stumble across the pretty girl who almost ran me over, I know I can’t let her walk away this time. Harper is funny, smart, and doesn’t care about hockey. I’m not supposed to be focusing on anything other than my career, yet I can’t get Harper off my mind. I know I shouldn’t fall for her…but I think I already have.

Sometimes I need an escape from the demands, the puck bunnies, and the notoriety that come with being an NHL team captain. I just want to be a normal guy for a few weeks. So when I leave Chicago for some peace and quiet, the last thing I expect is for a gorgeous woman to literally fall into my lap on a flight to Alaska. Even better, she has absolutely no idea who I am.

My best friend and I want the same girl. But Lace Lowell is mine. She was mine first. She’ll be mine forever. Sure, she was his friend when they were kids, long before I ever met her. But that’s in the past. This is now. I’m Warren Jinkins. War. My name is my battle cry. I take what I want. I don’t ask, and I want her.

I used to believe Jacob Evans could be mine. That was before he delivered unforgivable news rather than sweeping me off my feet. Not that I can fault his choice. He got the sweetest little girl out of the deal.

What's worse than having Rider Kingston, the star quarterback, give you the big brushoff because he doesn't want to get serious? You'd probably think living across the street from him where you get a firsthand view of his hookups, right? That's what I thought. Until someone drops off a baby with a note pinned to her blanket that says one of those jocks - either Rider or one of his roommates - is the father. The problem? Baby mama doesn't mention which of these numbskulls is the sperm donor. I wouldn't care about their paternity problems - except my brother lives there too. 

The dreamiest player on the Moo U hockey team hangs a flyer on the bulletin board, and I am spellbound: Rent a boyfriend for the holiday. For $25, I will be your Thanksgiving date. I will talk hockey with your dad. I will bring your mother flowers. I will be polite, and wear a nicely ironed shirt.... Now everyone knows it’s a bad idea to introduce your long-time crush to your messed-up family. But I really do need a date for Thanksgiving, even if I’m not willing to say why.