Ladies,
I know how things look from the outside. I'm rich. I'm a successful surgeon. I'm handsome. I should have women lining up from here to New Jersey clawing for space in my bed, but there's one huge catch: I'm f*cking awkward.
Every time I get a date, I spoil it. Asked if she's pregnant? Check. Forgot her name? Check. Bought a meat lover's pizza for my vegan girlfriend? Check, check, check.
This is why my best friend, romance fanatic Allie Jenkins, has declared that she's swooping in to save the day. She's prepared a list of required reading straight from The Ripped Bodice, and I'm supposed to take notes, learn from the best, and put that shit into action. After all, practice makes perfect, right?
Wrong.
I sold my soul for a hamburger. And I have no regrets. When a girl is trapped indefinitely in an elevator with a smoking hot burger and an empty stomach, even the strongest of women will crumble. The story goes like this: Bradley Hamilton, former professional hockey player and the most frustrating human alive, offered me half of his hamburger in exchange for a date. I took him up on the offer-while under duress-and now I'm stuck with the consequences. Specifically, the scorching kiss that has me drooling for more. However, there's one whopper of a problem. This man has been a thorn in my side for the last twenty years-ever since he moved next door and became my older brother's best friend. We've gone head to head for years, and now, he's trying to buy out my restaurant in order to plop one of his big fat gyms there instead. I refuse to let him ruin my business. Unfortunately, Bradley Hamilton is like an order of fries: you just can't have one. It appears our lips are addicted to kissing. He's alarmingly handsome. Deliciously confident. And worst of all? Underneath that salty exterior he's starting to show signs of sweet. Brad Hamilton is my guilty pleasure, my cheat meal, my greatest craving. Which is why he'll be one habit that's hard to kick. Contains mature themes.
Good things come in extra-large, smoking hot birthday suits. Things like Cohen James. Bad boy Cohen James has screwed up yet again. Star forward of Minnesota's pro hockey team, Cohen's made a name for himself-and not in a good way. So, at the insistence of his agent, he's stuck volunteering at the local YMCA teaching introductory adult swim lessons for ten weeks. Ten weeks of torture. What he doesn't expect is her. Annie Plymouth, star pupil. Her ruffled green bathing suit might be the most ridiculous thing he's ever seen, but after a few heated breaststroke lessons and some intense mouth to mouth, Cohen's ready to get her out of the water and into her birthday suit . . . except she has a different game plan. Is the pair destined to sink . . . or can they swim? Contains mature themes.
Good things come in extra-tall, smoking hot stilettos. Things like Jocelyn Jones. Jocelyn "Ice Queen" Jones is the hottest agent in town, and I'm determined to make her mine. My agent, that is. She's the best at what she does, which is why I'm intent on keeping our relationship strictly platonic, even if the sexual tension between us is thick enough to slice with a skate. After all, I already have a woman in my life. My daughter, Charli, and we're not sure if there's room for someone else. Until Jocelyn Jones breaks all the rules. She lets her icy exterior begin to melt, treating me to a view no man has ever seen before. Suddenly, I'm no longer certain if I want to be on her roster, or in her bed-for good. Tangling business with pleasure has never been on the agenda. Then again, neither has falling in love. They say it's bad business to sleep with the boss. But they haven't met Jocelyn Jones. Contains mature themes.
Good things come in extra-large, smoking hot packages. Things like pizza. The very pizzas that I deliver for my dad's restaurant, Peretti's Pizza. It's a temporary job, something to pay the bills until I graduate from school, but it does the trick. In fact, it's working quite well-until Ryan Pierce of the Minnesota Stars decides to order a pizza from me, and life as I know it turns upside down. You see, Ryan Pierce doesn't just open his front door. He opens it buck naked. And suddenly, I'm not the one boasting the biggest, hottest package in the room. However, it's what happens next that gives me butterflies whenever my phone beeps. Ryan starts to call, and then text, and then fifteen pizza deliveries and one fantastic night later, we're friends with benefits. So when he asks me to be his fake girlfriend at his brother's wedding, I'm happy to help. But the longer we pretend, the more I worry that this is one package I might not be able to handle.
