Showing results by author "Pippa Grant" in All Categories

He's a billionaire heir. A grump supreme. Hater of people. Bigger hater of peopling with people. And my new fake boyfriend. "Emotionally unavailable" doesn’t even begin to describe Hayes Rutherford. He has more defenses than a nuclear missile silo. And he’s the ultimate catch of the century. At least, according to his bank statement. My job’s simple: Keep all interested ladies away from the walled-off heir, by pretending to be his one true love. But you know what they say about fake-dating a billionaire: It’s all fun and games, until the scandals start.

When it comes to women, I know what they want. And all day long, I give it to them. Dark, broody, and sexy? You got it. Need to laugh? I'm your guy. Desperate for something to put you in the mood? You've come to the right place, kitten. Every morning when my library opens, there's a line around the block, the ladies flocking to me in need of their next book boyfriend. I'm that dude. The one who knows his way around the romance section. And if you think that hasn't gotten me plenty of action over the years, you'd be wrong.

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.

It was supposed to be an easy house- and dog-sitting gig while the owner was gone for a month. But when my sportsing landlord comes home unexpectedly, injured and in need of a new arrangement, we end up as accidental roommates instead. But if Holt Webster, the tall, thick-muscled, square-jawed, broody-eyed rugby player, had told me he played for the Copper Valley Pounders, I would’ve told him that my stepdad bought the team while I was working cruise ships overseas.

You’d think nearly dying trying to get out of a too-tight gown in a dressing room and being saved by a strong, competent man was a good thing. Not so much, though, when that strong, competent man is your ex. Your secret ex. And the reason you need a gown is because you’re part of a charity auction. The charity auction where he gets into a bidding war to win you. And now, because you’re one of few female coaches in professional baseball, and he’s the captain of the local professional hockey team, and he paid a ridiculous sum of money for you…

Beauty and the Beefcake is a vegan-friendly standalone romantic comedy featuring a hockey player whose vocabulary is the only thing smaller than a hockey puck, a book smart but aimless ventriloquist with too many voices in her head, a dilapidated old house that may or may not be haunted, and no cheating or cliffhangers.

There are two kinds of women in the world - those I can bang, and those I can’t. My teammate’s sister? She’s a can’t. I moved in with her to protect her from a nasty ex, not to be the next guy in line. She’s the brains. I’m the brawn. She’s the fruit. I’m the sausage. She talks too much. I don’t talk at all, if I don’t have to. Should be easy to resist her.

Blissed: A single mother and a love-shy widower reluctantly unite to save Bliss’s annual wedding festival. Matched: An out-of-place divorce lawyer is accidentally reunited with her first love. Smittened: An ice cream shop owner and a bad boy drummer find a rocky road to love.

Remember that time you accidentally sexted your in-laws? Yeah. I just did that. Except worse. Now my million social media followers are reading and sharing the rude, smartass message I meant to send privately to my little sister...and I'm officially public enemy number one. I'm Beck Ryder. Former boy bander. Underwear model. Fashion mogul. And I just buried my entire leg in my mouth - not just my foot - modern internet style, and publicly insulted my sister's neighbor.

I knew fixing up my life with a fresh start on the hobby ranch I inherited in Hell’s Bells, Wyoming, would come with challenges. Things like snow. Wildlife. Local gossip about why my daughter and I are here. But the biggest challenge? My surly new tenant. He’s like a bear. Fascinating from a distance, but don’t get too close, or he’ll bite. His personality should be a good thing. I have no need of a new man in my life. But he’s not only my tenant; he’s also my daughter’s math teacher and soccer coach.

A rock star kidnaps a runaway bride...Kidnapping the bride seemed like a good idea at the time. Her fiancé stole my fortune, so I stole his woman. Tit for tat. Or tat for tit. However you want to look at it. The one thing I didn’t expect? Willow Honeycutt, preschool teacher, boy band super fan, is completely crazy. And somehow she’s turned the tables on me.

I’m your neighborhood hot-mess single mom, doing my best to keep my head above water while running my little slice of heaven and keeping my youngest from shoving marbles up his nose - which is exactly what he’s doing the first time Levi Wilson, pop star god, world’s sexiest man, and my all-time number-one celebrity obsession, walks into my bookstore. And we had a moment. Like, a moment-moment. So when he proposes a no-strings fling? Count. Me. In. Thrill of a lifetime, right? Surely, nothing will go wrong.

Never borrow pants from your brother. Especially if he’s a size smaller than you are, because all that pressure in the junk will short-circuit your brain. And you’ll lie to a woman in a club about your real name. Leave her unsatisfied after making out in a bathroom. Then find out that she’s the one thing standing in the way of your dreams. And she very much doesn’t like being lied to. Now I have to convince Lila Valentine - the woman I can’t stop thinking about, my biggest regret, and my new boss - that I’m what’s best for the baseball team she’s inherited.

Large and in charge? Honey, I'm the biggest, baddest, mother pucking-est machine to ever own the ice. I shoot. I score. In and out of the rink. I don't come early, but I come often, if you know what I mean. And I always leave the ladies wanting more. Until that chick last night. I'm no one-thrust wonder, and you're damn right I'm going to prove to her I can do better. But every time I think I'm finally on my way back into her pants, she one-ups and out-balls me. I should cut my losses, lick my wounds, and walk away. But Zeus Berger doesn't walk away from anything.

The world’s sexiest firefighter is about to get a second chance with the virgin next door.... He’s bossy, arrogant, and so ridiculously hot that he should come with a warning label and a pair of flame-retardant coveralls. He’s also the boy who broke my heart when we were in high school. I want to move in next door to Ryan O’Dell the way I want to be the virgin gamer geek suddenly in charge of running my sister’s sex-toy factory. Too bad both are written in my stars.

You know those stories where an adorably misunderstood, clumsy girl needs a fake date to a wedding so she asks her brother’s best friend and they accidentally fall in love? I wish that was the kind of life I lead, but it’s not. I don’t need a date to a wedding. I need a date to a funeral. And I don’t have a brother, or a best friend with a brother available, which means I’m stuck with Tyler Jaeger. Sure, he’s a professional hockey player who also knows advanced calculus, but let’s say we’re not compatible and leave it at that. I should know. I am a matchmaker.

I, Cooper Rock, baseball god, worshipper of women, hometown hero, beloved son and brother, and owner of a well-deserved ego, have always reached for the stars. Usually in baseball. In love? Nah. When you’ve played the field as much as I have and haven’t been bit by the bug, you’re immune. Or so I thought until she walked back into my life.

Anything your tongue desires, I can bake it. Scones? Child's play. Cupcakes? I'll frost them so good you won't know what hit you. Donuts? Please! You're talking to a master baker. But there's one egg I've never been able to crack. My best friend. Correction: my former best friend. She's the apple in my pie. The whip in my cream. The lemon in my meringue. The wish in my bone. She's the one who got away.

I didn’t mean to kidnap the groom. It was an accident. Mostly.... At least I didn't take much time to plan it. It was more of a spur of the moment kidnapping. Does that count? One minute, the town’s bad boy is standing at the altar about to marry the world’s most evil kindergarten teacher. The next, he’s passed out in my Vespa sidecar with his bride hot on our tail. But I couldn't stand by and watch Jace O’Dell be blackmailed into a loveless marriage. And besides, what’s a little kidnapping between friends? Okay, so maybe we’re not just friends....

I, Tillie Jean Rock, am not in love with my brother’s teammate. Sure, he might have those biceps and that “I am the grouchiest of grouchy bears” smolder, and he might shovel snow off his driveway next door wearing nothing but boxer shorts and rubber boots, and he might be running a side business feeding all the stray goats in town, but studliness is only skin-deep.