My new neighbor is a firefighter - and a scorching-hot single dad - but I swear I didn’t set off that smoke alarm on purpose. (And I was beyond mortified when he rushed in and saw me naked.) Nothing happened, of course - because I, Winnie MacAllister, romance junkie and owner of a constantly broken heart, have sworn off men for one solid year. Even protective men with chiseled jaws, bulging biceps, and deep brown eyes that make my breath come faster.

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. You probably assume the concentration on my face is work-related, when in reality, I'm figuring out which I want more: to nail you against the wall, or to bend you over my desk.

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.

I never knew what hit me. Rex stormed into my little world with two adorable twin boys and no apologies. Bearish. Short-fused. Consuming. Huge. Torturously gorgeous. Leave-your-heart-in-pieces wrong. Did I mention HUGE? He's instant trouble the second he checks into our lodge and my overprotective grandpa hires him. Then I catch him staring with that knowing ache in his eyes. I forget what trouble even means. He also needs a nanny. Sold.  

Five hockey players, a cabin in the woods...and little old me, Winnie Berlin. Sounds like the start of a fantasy, right? But it's not. It's my reality. It all started when I got lost in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. A wicked thunderstorm sent my car mud sliding into a ditch, and for a girl whose survival skills involve finding the nearest Starbucks, I was in deep trouble. Forced to abandon my car in search of help, I stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Dante Marino’s the definition of beautiful destruction. Everything he touched, he destroyed...including me. We were friends. Then we weren't. He used me. Played me. Took every ounce of my affection and threw it away. He became my enemy, then risked everything to save me. Now, he wants me back, claiming he's changed - determined to make me his. Each vow, every possessive kiss, feels like he’s mine. But I can't forget that underneath his rock-hard body, seductive grin, and wicked promises, one thing will always remain true - he's my undoing.

My brother's best friend owned my heart until the day he drenched it in kerosene and burned it down. Grant flipping Faircross is so not the reason I'm coming home. I don't care if he's gotten bigger, meaner, and grumpy enough to flash freeze the sun. So what if he's up in my business the second I arrive? I'm smarter now. I'm only back in Redhaven for my sick mother and to talk some sense into my sister before she marries a toad.

My fresh start turned into a dumpster fire. Awesome new job. Small town heaven. Friendly faces galore. Then I strolled into my new home and found the unspeakable. Just when I'm sure it can't get worse, I'm “rescued” by a man who makes me see red for miles. Enter Lucas Graves. A bossy grump with a badge who's sworn to keep me safe. He rocks the scary-hot vibe, he reads too much, and he never misses a chance to give me crap for being a nerdy little cactus who mouths back. Not the type of man I'd go for in my right mind. Definitely not the type I should keep trading bruising kisses with.

Never, ever fall for your brother's hot older friend. I flunked the test the instant I laid eyes on Landon Strauss. Tall. Ripped. Commanding. Irresistibly alpha. He gave a damn like no one else did. His soul-searing eyes saw me, not just a nerd girl next door. I had my idol, my destiny, and names for our future kids picked.

Bossy. Heart of stone. Snarly mess next door. Send help before I'm prick-matized.... My next big mistake has a name. Warren Ford. Best kept secret in this weird little town. An alpha's alpha. Spartan abs. Too blunt for everybody's good. Moody, broody, mysterious, and totally up in my business.

A force of nature blew in. His name is Chris Triton. Tattooed god. Moody ex SEAL. Zero filter. Born to drive me bonkers. We barely spoke for 10 minutes before he kissed my soul out. Too fast. Too intense. Too flipping good. Then I found out we'd be sharing the same roof the very next day. Dad marrying his mom squashed our little chemistry experiment instantly. You know, the normal reaction. But Chris doesn't do normal. Or predictable. Or sane.

He never bothered with hello. The shrieking hot stranger had me dizzy the instant he said we're engaged. Then he chased off the bully on our heels and dragged me back to his place for the night. Pure insanity, right? Wrong. You don't let pride do the talking when you're homeless, on the run, and hauling around your sick father in a truck so old it must've been on Noah's Ark. You definitely don't complain when Ridge Barnet takes charge. (In)famous heartthrob. Stinking rich. Fed up owner of one angry rooster. Eyes set to permanent storm.

My “interview” with bosshole supreme was anything but normal. He picked the worst day ever to chase me off my favorite park bench. I retaliated with a spray of cinnamon latte all over his Italian shoes. Then - for some unholy reason - Magnus Heron offered me a job.

I just ran into the girl who got away. Holding a hate letter addressed to me. And now we're stranded in an elevator. Last time we kissed, it was final. I wasn't supposed to see her again. Not in this city. On this elevator. The moment it craps out, stranding us overnight with animal cravings and fencing lies. Last time we kissed, how could we know our next might truly, madly, beautifully restore us?  

One wardrobe malfunction. Two people who don’t belong together. Three awful words: “Be my wife."