At thirty-five, Gina Bourque is still playing the field. If he's single, in his early twenties with dark hair and brooding eyes, there's a damn good chance you'll find him in her little black book. Jeffrey Ryan never imagined that at nearly forty he'd find himself widowed and a single dad. But here he is-stumbling through this thing called life with two impressionable daughters watching his every move. When Gina and Jeffrey meet while cruising the Caribbean, sparks fly-but not in a good way. He's too old. Too blond. Too stiff. Yet she's still drawn to him like a moth to a flame. She's too vulgar. Too sassy. Too wild. But she ignites something inside of him he can't ignore. We all know what happens when you play with fire...someone's bound to get burned.
Briggs,
Remember when we parted ways in Germany? It was the day I broke your heart. What you didn't know was that I was breaking mine too.
I thought they'd be enough-my husband and my son. That I'd get home and everything would go back to the way it was . . . Before the war. Before the ambush. Before you. But, no matter how hard I try, I can't erase the trauma we shared. I can't seem to forget the way my heart beat in time with yours. The truth is, I'm lost without you.
I thought the nightmare was over when they pulled us from that hole in the ground, but nothing could have prepared me for the war I'd face at home.
I know it's selfish of me to ask, but, please, I have to see you one last time . . .
All my love, Scottie
Contains mature themes.
Vivienne
Guilt . . .
Like a cancer, it festers, slowly stealing your life bit by painful bit.
What do you do when you have betrayed the love of your life but he is no longer there to grant you forgiveness? How do you carry the weight of your gravest mistake knowing there is no way to atone for it?
I've made a terrible choice-one that can't be undone.
Hiding this secret is eating me alive.
But if it ever came out?
If it were ever discovered?
It would destroy everything.
Reid
They say you always want what you can't have. From the moment I laid eyes on Vivienne Parker, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. I want to believe that I'm better than this-that I wouldn't cross that line-but deep down, I know if I were ever given a chance, there's no way in hell I'd refuse.
She's my uncle's wife, so why does it feel as if she is mine?
Contains mature themes.
Boomerangers [boo-muh-rang-ers] noun, informal: an adult that moves back home to live with a parent after a period of independence.
Spencer
I love sex. I love the power, the intimacy, the euphoria it brings. Too bad I'm not having any . . . You'd think as New Orleans's most renowned sex therapist that I'd be swimming in single men. In a way, I am . . . except for the fact that one is in diapers and the other two are drowning in preteen hormones. As a single mother of three, my days are devoted to my clients and my kids, and my nights are spent with Fabio, my trusty vibrator. When my world begins to unravel, I have no choice but to move back home. And when my high school sweetheart comes waltzing back into my life, comedy and chaos ensue.
What can I say? I never said I could pick 'em, but you can bet your ass I know how to fix 'em.
Cooper
As soon as the ink dried on my divorce papers, I made myself a solemn vow: I was done with relationships. Moving home to take over my father's firm was the plan, until Spencer decided to return, along with three souvenirs from the life she's lived without me.
I've been in love with the girl next door for nearly all of my life; the rest was spent trying to forget her. I'd give almost anything for a second chance with her, but I have no time for distractions-especially the kind that involve diapers, bottles, and eighteen-year commitments.
The problem is, she's already got me by the balls . . . and I'm beginning to feel the noose tightening around my heart.
Contains mature themes.
I fell in love with my best friend but he didn't love me back.
Sounds like a cheesy line from a country song, right? Too bad it's the story of my life.
I thought that I'd moved on, swore he was the one.
But that facade began to fade in the flash of a half-carat diamond ring.
Now years later, here I am, running back to the boy who broke my adolescent heart, hoping that just maybe, he'll be the one to piece it back together.
. . .
I fell in love with my best friend while she fell in love with him.
Ironically, it was my own damn fault. I practically served her up on a silver platter.
So I turned to my second love, basketball, moving across the country to escape.
For years, I've been sitting on the sidelines watching, waiting.
Now it's time to make my move.
No more fouling out.
This time, I'm going to score.
Contains mature themes.
