He pushes buttons I didn't even know I had. Gabe freaking Barin. Fire to my ice. Walking mountain. Growly, alpha, and achingly kind. Last man on earth I want in my life. But I've got three heaping problems: 1. My baby niece is missing. 2. Some psycho just slashed up my car. 3. My boss made Gabe my personal protector. I'm a big girl in a tiny package. Sharp claws. Perfectly capable. So I'll ignore the jaw-dropping banter Goliath drops. I'll ignore how his Louisiana drawl melts damn near everything. I'll ignore how he's five times my size.

Bossy. Heart of stone. Snarly mess next door. Send help before I'm prick-matized.... My next big mistake has a name. Warren Ford. Best kept secret in this weird little town. An alpha's alpha. Spartan abs. Too blunt for everybody's good. Moody, broody, mysterious, and totally up in my business.

Waking up next to the world's hottest stranger is my first red flag. The huge rock on my finger? Hint number two I'm head-over-heels in trouble. I'm hair-on-fire freaked by the marriage certificate. Then I sit down with Noah Bernard, my mysterious new "husband." He talks a good game. Easy, when he'd put Hercules to shame. Olympian abs. Defiant growl. Come-to-mama eyes. Mammoth freaking ego. I almost wish I remembered our honeymoon. But I need answers. Not more secrets.

His proposal came in a little black envelope with 13 unlucky words: You still owe me that favor, doll, and I'm cashing in. Marry me. In a normal life, I'd never get hitched to Calvin Randolph. Not with his heart-stopping blue eyes, infamous player reputation, and an ego bigger than the part of his anatomy he loves boasting about the most. Been there, done that. All except the last part, which he's left to my shameful imagination for seven years apart. Of course, the fake fiancée contract I just signed is anything but normal.

I loved her like a sister forever ago. Before life served us tragedy with a bitter cherry on top. Before I learned love isn't a damn fairy tale. Before I became a single dad. Protecting my little girl is all I still care about. Kendra is my lifeline if she'll just play along. Her job is easy. Wear my ring. Turn my scowl into a family man's smile. Help save my daughter from a scorched earth custody fight. She gets the Cinderella treatment in return. My money, my mansion, my reputation. Simple. Painless. Mutual.

Marshal Howard is a death wish wrapped in mystery. Cold, rude, insanely overprotective single dad. Everyone in our little town warned me to stay far, far away. I didn't listen. I answered the castoff's nanny ad because no one else would. I got too close. I saw through his vicious reputation. He's a man who's turning my heart inside out, making me a fool. If it was just the bad blood with him and my family, maybe we'd work through this. Maybe we'd find paradise. Just me, him, and that adorable little girl. But surprises come in threes. Like the lines on the pregnancy test. 

He never bothered with hello. The shrieking hot stranger had me dizzy the instant he said we're engaged. Then he chased off the bully on our heels and dragged me back to his place for the night. Pure insanity, right? Wrong. You don't let pride do the talking when you're homeless, on the run, and hauling around your sick father in a truck so old it must've been on Noah's Ark. You definitely don't complain when Ridge Barnet takes charge. (In)famous heartthrob. Stinking rich. Fed up owner of one angry rooster. Eyes set to permanent storm.

My biological clock just exploded. Eighteen months. That's how long I have to make a baby happen before it becomes one more broken dream. Fate has a sick sense of humor, though. Its name is Hayden Shaw. Yes, the Hayden Shaw. Billionaire developer, scandalously gorgeous, his hard-headed ego only eclipsed by his enormous...reputation. He needs a bride to fool the world. I need a baby. It's simple business. Strictly professional.

I just ran into the girl who got away. Holding a hate letter addressed to me. And now we're stranded in an elevator. Last time we kissed, it was final. I wasn't supposed to see her again. Not in this city. On this elevator. The moment it craps out, stranding us overnight with animal cravings and fencing lies. Last time we kissed, how could we know our next might truly, madly, beautifully restore us?  

You know that awkward moment when your lava-hot boss says “marry me”? Not for love. Not for real. Not without a mammoth payoff. Of course, this fortune comes with a ginormous snag - Ward Brandt. Call me bananas. I must be short of a full bushel rejecting Chicago's finest billionaire. Who knew he was my boss when he crashed my worst date ever? Oh, but he found out. He swore I wasn't fit for Brandt Ideas, chewed me up, and spat me back out. I vowed I'd prove him wrong - and sabotage a metric ton of his coffee.

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.

Jud Lawson found me stranded in the rain. Broken down on the side of the road in a deserted neighborhood with my piece-of-crap car. I wasn’t looking for a hero, and definitely not one who looks like him. An obscenely hot mountain of a man who screams danger. But I have little choice other than climbing onto the back of his bike.

I knocked up my best friend's sister. Let's start with how she decided to inform me and Pacey the news...together. Imagine that nightmare. I was going into what I thought was a hockey marketing meeting, and then bam! I'm going to be a dad and my best friend/teammate is attempting to imprint my face with his fist. Threats were tossed around, friendships were revoked, and then I was marched up to her apartment, suitcases in hand, and forced to live with her so I could take care of her every need. Now I'm finding it harder and harder not to fall for my best friend's little sister.

The last person on earth I want to be stranded with is Gianni Lupo. But, thanks to the blizzard of the century, I’m trapped in a roadside motel room with that cocky bastard for two straight days, and with one small bed. Some women might thank Mother Nature for delivering a polar vortex that maroons them with six feet of solid muscle, those deep blue eyes, that sexy grin - but not me. I’ve known Gianni Lupo all my life, and he’s never brought me anything but bad luck, and trouble. I should have known what the disastrous end result would be.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....