Working for Chase Lancaster was supposed to catapult my marketing career. Instead, I'm trapped in personal-assistant hell. His hobbies include barking orders, torpedoing my advertising campaigns, and reducing the office staff to tears. On a good day, he acts like I’m invisible. On a bad day, I remind myself arsenic is not an acceptable sweetener for coffee. And prison orange would be murder on my complexion. Imagine my surprise when Chase follows me home to Bitter End, North Carolina, where I'm about to endure my ex-fiancé's wedding.

I'm Karli Brighton, reigning Queen of Epic Screw-Ups. With twelve med school rejection letters burning a hole in my back pocket, I'm back in my quirky hometown for the summer. Grumpy and shame-faced, I'm not exactly in the mood to make new friends. Having a wild one-night stand with the charming pretty boy I meet at a local bar to feel better about myself? Probably not the smartest idea. But I take comfort in knowing that I'll never see the gorgeous stranger again. Until he strolls into my family home one hour later.

I’ve got a list of people I absolutely don’t ever want to be stuck with on a boat, or a plane, or a train, and it starts and ends with the broody, grumpy, too-sexy-for-my-own good Axel Huxley. Also known as this romance novelist’s number one nemesis. The man is legendary for his mighty pen and his even mightier scowl. I tried to work together with the cocky thriller writer once upon a time, but the two of us are like vodka and good decisions. We don’t play well together.

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.

I’m a single female who’s tired of relationships ruining my life. However, there are times when a date would be helpful. If you’re a single man, preferably mid-20s to late-30s, and are in a similar situation, we might be a match. Candidate must be handsome, charming, and willing to pretend to have feelings for me (on a sliding scale, as the event requires). Ability to discuss a wide variety of topics is a plus. Must have your own transportation and a (legal) job. In exchange for your time, I will give you mine. If interested, please email me. Time is of the essence. 

I brandish equations like lightning bolts and shatter fortunes with mere scribbles on a whiteboard. People up and down Wall Street steer clear of me—or come to regret it. My walls are impenetrable as Alcatraz, and my self-control? Rock solid, my friend. Except when it comes to her. The woman I've secretly longed for. The only woman I can never have. My best friend’s little sister, Stella.

I didn’t know bridesmaid was code for babysitter for the bride’s brother, but if that’s what my best friend needs of me for her dream wedding to go off without a hitch, that’s what I’ll do. Even if Theo Monroe has been a pain in my rear since third grade. Even if he should be responsible enough to not wreak havoc at his sister’s destination wedding.

Easton Hayes has been my knight in shining hockey skates since he saved my life. This devastatingly handsome grump may be everyone's favorite goalie, but to me, he's my strength when demons haunt my dreams. And okay—so maybe he's also the only man I've ever loved. But he doesn't need to know that. We're friends. It works for us.

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.

Loner Boone Hendrix left the military with ghosts that haunt him. He lives with his dog Atlas on a farm in Vermont. Alone. Just the way he likes it. Until he rescues a half-drowned, beautiful brunette from his river. Gemma Newhouse is the daughter of the richest man in America, and from the abrasions on her wrists and her drugged state, she’s on the run from someone dangerous. She’s nothing like Boone expected—sweet, smart, and likes baking—and she ignites a fierce need inside him.

He's destined for the White House and engaged to be married next month. Except he just married me instead. While drunk in Vegas. Bradford Black. He's powerful. Rich as sin. And he's now my husband. His fiancée hates me. His political advisors want me gone. The world can't get enough of me and the scandal we've caused. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to pretend none of this is happening. But, oh God. My husband doesn't care about the scandal because all he cares about is me. He's possessive, grumpy, and determined for us to stay married.

If Renn Brewer would’ve asked me to marry him, I would’ve said no. Why? One, his reputation precedes him. His name is in the headlines at least once a month. Two, he’s not just my brother’s best friend. They’re teammates. And three, I’m in my self-care era. Unfortunately, a version of me equates self-care with bad choices.

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.

I’ve spent the better part of the last few years successfully avoiding my brother’s best friend, Weston Aldrich. As CEO of Andes Inc, the infuriatingly handsome and incessantly grumpy Weston also happens to be my new boss. It shouldn’t have been hard to continue avoiding him. After all, he’s on the executive floor, and I’m one of many copywriters. Weston has his own ideas about how things should go between us. He’s in my emails, leaving notes on my desk, and as if that’s not enough, he arranges for me to accompany him on a business trip.

Yes, I’m a single dad who needs a nanny for the summer. But hiring the stranded runaway bride who shows up on my doorstep in a wedding gown with no references, no skills, and no experience? No one is that desperate.