Showing results by author "Melanie Harlow" in All Categories

It was the perfect plan. I needed a wife - temporarily - in order to inherit the family business. And she needed a favor - the kind that takes nine months to deliver. We had it all worked out, from the no-touching policy on our wedding night (her rule) to the no-falling-in-love decree (mine). She’d marry me, I’d give her the means to have the baby she’d always wanted, and one year later we’d amicably part ways with no hassle, no demands, and certainly no regrets. After all, Bianca DeRossi and I are experts at infuriating one another - we’ve been doing it since we were kids.

Ian Chase broke my heart at 17, and I’ve spent the last 18 years hating him for it. He makes it easy, with his smart mouth and playboy lifestyle - which I unfortunately have to observe since he lives behind me. Every time I see him climbing out of his pool, practically naked and unreasonably sexy, my blood boils. I’ve always loved to loathe him. I never planned to need him.

Nate Pearson is ridiculously handsome and wears the hell out of a suit and tie, but I’ve seen the parade of beautiful women leaving his apartment across the hall - a different one every time - and I want no part of it. When it comes to romance, I’m looking for something real, something that will last: the happily ever after. As a divorce attorney, he loves to tell me there’s no such thing. As a wedding planner, I choose to disagree.

A contemporary romance in the small Michigan town of Hart's Landing.

Jack Valentini isn't my type. Sexy, brooding cowboys are fine in the movies, but in real life, I prefer a suit and tie. Proper manners. A close shave. Jack might be gorgeous, but he's also scruffy, rugged, and rude. He wants nothing to do with a "rich city girl" like me, and he isn't afraid to say so. But I've got a PR job to do for his family's farm, so he's stuck with me and I'm stuck with him. His glares. His moods. His tight jeans. His muscles. His huge, hard muscles.

He was my first crush, my first kiss, my first everything. So when he shows up out of the blue asking me to have dinner with him "for old time's sake", I say I will. After all, it's been 12 years since he broke my heart, and I'm totally over him, no matter what my sisters say. Except, he still does something to me. He's got those eyes that make me weak, those hands that drive me wild, and a body I can't resist - especially once I see the tattoos. It doesn't take long for our trip down memory lane to go from sweet to sizzling.

When a psychic tells Natalie Nixon her life is about to be upended by a mysterious stranger, she laughs it off. After all, she has everything she's ever wanted - a successful bakery, the perfect boyfriend, and the keys to her dream house. Who could possibly make her want to throw all that away?

When I got jilted by my unfaithful fiancé a week before the wedding, my plans involved nothing more than ice cream, a blanket fort, and a bonfire of his possessions. But my friends convince me that bitter tastes better when it’s drowned in Bordeaux, so I embark on the Parisian honeymoon by myself. However, the City of Light isn’t remotely charming or romantic when you’re alone at a table for two, so all I want to do is go home again. Then I meet Lucas Fournier.

Just friends. That’s all Beckett Weaver and I have ever been. Sure, he’s a hot cowboy who left Wall Street behind to take over his family’s ranch. Yes, I’ve had a secret crush on him since we were 17. And who wouldn’t appreciate those strong hands, that massive chest, and the way he fills out a pair of Levis? He makes a girl sweat just looking at him...and I look. A lot. But I’m a single mom trying to move on with my life, and he’s running that ranch single-handedly while taking care of his elderly father.

I didn't mean to say I was engaged to a hot billionaire–it just slipped out. In my defense, I'd had a really bad haircut, a really strong drink, and I was trying to save face in front of the Mean Girl at my high school reunion. Lucky for me, I happen to know a hot billionaire. Hutton French and I have been friends forever, and even though big social gatherings are not his thing, I called him from the coat closet and begged him for a favor–show up and play my fake fiancé for the night.

OK, fine. I’ll confess. While my house was being robbed, I was in the shower indulging my favorite Brad Pitt fantasy (the one with the Troy costume and the handcuffs). But where is the justice in the world when the first cop on the scene is the former bully next door? How dare that arrogant jerk grow up to be six-foot-three inches of solid muscle with gorgeous blue eyes! I can’t stop thinking about him. Or his handcuffs. Or his dirty mouth. Or the way he still likes to boss me around these days, only with a lot less clothing.

He's smart, successful, and sexy as hell - I can barely sleep knowing he's right down the hall. And when the chemistry between us explodes one night with fierce, fiery passion, it's hard to deny there's something real there. But he does....

I was expecting a proposal on my birthday, and I got dumped instead. How could I have been so clueless? Grams knew exactly how to distract me. The “cute boy next door” who’s been helping her with yard work clearly needs a little therapy. Who better to call than her newly single therapist granddaughter? She even fakes dementia to get me to visit, and now that I’m here she’s doing everything in her power to throw us together. Not that I’m complaining. Ryan is the sexiest man I’ve ever met.

I have trouble saying no. To shoes, handbags, the dessert tray…you name it. But when I agreed to a plan last-minute engagement bash for a spoiled Mafia princess, I had no idea she’d demand that my sexy ex cater it. He’ll agree to work for me, but only if I agree to spend a weekend with him. Did I mention my weakness for a**holes with tattoos? I’m totally forked.

You might think I had it all - a career I loved, a supportive family, the Nixon metabolism but not the Nixon ears, and a salary that supported my lavish taste in designer shoes, fine wine, and lacy lingerie - but I had no one to share it with. Until the day I ran into him - my one-night stand from college with the crooked smile, let's-get-out-of-here eyes, and dirty, dirty mouth. Cute and cocky then, today Levi Brooks is six feet four inches of hot bearded fantasy.

Rule number one for a professional matchmaker? Don’t fall in love with your client. I screwed that up when I fell for my best friend, Reid Fortino. He’s gorgeous, successful, and sexy as hell. I figured it would be easy to find him a match - and save the family business at the same time. But the more time I spend attempting to find the perfect girl, the more I realize how much I want him for my own.

In hindsight, I should not have had that fifth mimosa at Breakfast with Santa. Or the sixth, seventh, and eighth. Even if the mic-drop moment that resulted was worth the looks on my former friends’ faces. For the sake of my children and my pride, I pack up and head for my childhood home and the small town where I grew up. Cloverleigh Farms would be the perfect place for a fresh start. Falling for Henry DeSantis wasn’t part of the plan.

Back then, I had it all. After tanking my career - during the World Series, no less - the last thing I want to do is return to my hometown, where every jerk in a ball cap has an opinion about what went wrong with my arm. Then I run into April Sawyer. I can still make her laugh, she can still take me down a notch, and when the chemistry between us explodes, it’s even hotter this time around - and I don’t want it to end. But just when I think I’m ready to let go of the past and get back in the game, life throws me a curveball I never saw coming.

Avec le recul, j’aurais peut-être dû m’arrêter au quatrième mimosa lors du déjeuner avec le Père Noël. Bon… peut-être aussi au cinquième… ouais même au huitième ça aurait été bien. Mais est-ce que le regard choqué de mes anciennes amies valait ce moment iconique où j’ai lâché le micro ? Absolument. Pour sauver ce qui reste de ma fierté–et offrir à mes enfants un nouveau départ–je retourne là où tout a commencé : ma ville natale, Cloverleigh Farms. L’endroit idéal pour remettre les compteurs à zéro.

Så da Dashiel Buckley vender hjem til Cherry Tree Harbor for at tage til et bryllup, lover jeg mig selv ikke at lade min gamle forelskelse i min bedste vens storebror løbe af med mig. Igen. Men da jeg har allermest brug for det, er det Dash, som springer til, og det er ikke længere kun hans blå øjne og charmerende smil, der gør indtryk… Vores samtaler bliver dybere. "Bare venner" bliver til "bare én gang", og det udvikler sig hurtigt til mere. Men Dash drømmer om det glamourøse Hollywood-liv, og jeg hører hjemme her i min lille by.