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. 

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.

When I charged up those courthouse steps to stop Sera's wedding, I didn't exactly have a plan. But there was no way I was letting my best friend's little sister marry some no-good tool who didn't deserve her. Let's just say things got out of control. Fast. Now, the wedding is off. And Sera is crushed. And I'm just trying to be a good friend. "Come stay at my place until you're back on your feet." "Have some tequila; it'll ease the pain." And "What're a few much-needed orgasms between friends?"

I should have fired Eliza Jenkins the night she overstepped her qualifications in a high-profile client meeting. Or the time she called me stuffy, uptight, and grumpy to my face. But it's her luscious mouth, her chocolate eyes, and her voluptuous curves that really drive me crazy. So I send her packing, pink slip in hand. My company is better off without the mouthy firecracker anyway. At least, that's what I've been trying to believe. Except now, a multi-million dollar deal is on the line, and she's the only one who can help me save it. I've got a new assignment for Ms. Sassy. Be my fake wife.

To me, it was a no-brainer. What better way to pass the time during the world’s most boring sport? If my best friend is going to guilt me into attending a Coyotes game with him, I’m definitely bringing a book. But who could have predicted star pitcher Carter Barlowe would spot me in the stands and give two flying fastballs that I was more interested in my novel than in his return to the mound? I had never heard of him before that day. Now, he’s made sure I know exactly who he is and what he wants. Me.