Have you ever fake dated your bodyguard? I don't recommend it. Especially if he's anything like Erik Wilder: Former football player, world class know-it-all and unapologetic grump. To be clear, I didn't want a bodyguard (hence the fake dating idea). Most days, I can’t figure out why he wants the job either. We drive each other insane, probably because we’re as opposite as two people can be. He’s suspicious, never talks about his past and has the comfort skills of a cactus. I’m a happily-ever-after kind of girl who knows exactly what she wants out of life.

Imagine the guy you’ve always wanted just whispered that in your ear. That you have one night to see what you’ve been missing. I’ve had a crush on Emmett Ward for as long as I can remember. And not just because he looks like a Greek god and has the audacity to walk around like he could break your headboard given the chance.

If you've ever seen your teenage crush 10 years later, and he turns out to be a complete jerk, then you know how Molly Ward feels. The last time she saw Noah Griffin was the regrettable day that she decided to climb into his bedroom window and turn her unrequited crush into something more. That day was bad enough, but things are about to get worse. Noah has become one of the best football players in the country, and he's just landed on Molly's front step.

Marrying Beckett Coleman is the best idea I've had in years. I can grant my sick dad’s wish to walk one of his daughters down the aisle, and Beckett has my help solving a custody situation with his daughter. Our plan is to spend a year together, then part ways. Easy, especially since I'm not his type, and he's not mine either. He’s too quiet and too serious. And while he’s distractingly gorgeous, he’s also my brother’s teammate. Beckett is fake husband material, not the real deal. I just have to remember that.

There’s only one course of action when your dad wants you to marry a clammy-handed wimp to make one of his board members happy—you get yourself stuck in an elevator with a hot stranger and have the steamiest make-out session of your life. Years of etiquette lessons went out the window thanks to Cameron Wilder, who managed to unleash my hidden bad girl with naught but his talented mouth and deliciously rough hands.

Football star. Single dad. And once, a long time ago, mine. I’ve spent the better part of a decade forgetting Ford Ellis. If he had just stayed away from Montana, I might have erased the memory of his striking blue eyes and rugged smile forever. Avoiding him was easy when the only place I saw his face was on ESPN—and a remote control could fix that problem.

Help Wanted: Grumpy Mountain Man seeks baby momma. Job is an incubator position only. Surrogate must be impervious to grunting in the form of communication and nosey brotherly neighbors. Rustic mountain range housing available upon request. I wanted to pummel my irritating brothers when they posted their own version of a wanted ad to help me with my life. But I can’t fault the results once the right woman lands on my lap. Becoming a single father is not a decision I made lightly. In fact, it’s the biggest decision of my entire life.

Beckett Langfield is grumpy, rich and hates kids. I’m an overworked, overstressed, and overweight single mom. The only reason we’re getting married is because he needs to fix a PR disaster and I am available. As in sitting next to him, in a bar, when he has this brilliant idea. Considering I just got divorced, I’m not looking to do that again. But Beckett makes me an offer that I literally can’t refuse, so I don’t.

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.

There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t date Fletcher Huxley. He’s a growly-faced, stubborn-streaked, international rugby legend trying to revive his flailing career in the US after being canned by his team overseas. While he might have the good kind of thunder thighs, intriguing tattoos, and a booty of steel, he also holds the top position on my very short nemesis list thanks to what happened the first time we met.

I met my dream girl. That’s right. She’s stunning and the worst bartender I’ve ever seen. I should have gone home and gone to sleep—dream girl or not. I had an early morning and the season was starting soon. But when she threatened me with boy band karaoke, I couldn't help myself. I went. The stars aligned. I have never felt more alive or wanted anyone more than I want her.

Emmett Lasker is impossible to work for. He might be model handsome and stupidly wealthy, but he also has it out for me. He’s given me more last-minute and weekend requests than anyone else, ruining any plans I make. I should quit. And I will. Just as soon as I hit my two-year anniversary and earn out my signing bonus. But after a particularly awful day at work, a breakup (via text!), and my computer crashing, I’ve had enough! So at 11:59 Friday night, I barge into Emmett’s office to tell him what I really think of him. Only, that’s not what happens. AT ALL.

Duke Evans didn’t expect to find a beautiful woman in a staring contest with a bison on his favorite hiking trail. He also didn’t expect to see her again after rescuing her from the surly beast. As the sheriff in Calamity, Montana, he’s had his fair share of surprises but none as pleasant as pulling over a shiny black car and finding his mysterious hiking companion behind the wheel. Only she lied to Duke. She gave him a name as fake as her hair color. 

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.

I should have known I was in trouble when I backed my old, beat-up truck into the shiny Range Rover. The driver looked like a gorgeous fallen angel–one who’d been booted right out of paradise for being a giant prick. Good thing I’ll never have to see him again.