Raising my cousin’s three kids wasn’t in my five-year plan. Actually, it wasn’t in any plan. One minute I’m a single labor and delivery nurse living a quiet life and the next, I’m navigating guardianship hearings, meltdowns, and homework I’m pretty sure requires a math degree. Enter Hayes Carlisle. My best friend’s older brother. Chicago Colts newest catcher. And the man I once kissed and immediately pretended I didn’t. So, when the custody battle I’ve been dreading becomes a reality, I shouldn’t be surprised that Hayes swoops in with a wild idea—a fake relationship.

He was escaping his past. I wanted to escape my present. Together, we fell hard and fast and knew we had found forever. Or so we thought … Six years later, his shoulders are broader than I remembered, his charming smile thaws my frozen heart, and it’s so tempting to run my fingers through his hair like I did years ago. But it’s the tenderness and warmth in his brown eyes that remind me of the forever we almost shared.

Callahan Hastings is relentless when it comes to getting what he wants, and what he wants is me–to be his private chef in the Hamptons for the summer. My dream job served to me on a silver platter by one of the wealthiest members of Pembroke Hills Country Club. The only catch? He’s my ex-boyfriend’s older brother with a reputation for being as charming as he is cunning. But Cal doesn’t take no for an answer. He draws you in with flirty smiles and extravagant promises.

Graydon St. John doesn't do dramaor public appearances. The brooding defensive end for the San Francisco Foghorns prefers silence, solitude, and avoiding headlines. But when a league-wide PR scandal forces him into a media stunt at the city zoo, he's suddenly face-to-face with squawking birds, nosy fans, and the zookeeper who seems to hate his guts on sight. Maple Baker loves her flamingos. Loud, pink, messy? Sure. But they're hers. And the last thing she needs is a grumpy football player stomping into her sanctuary with a bad attitude and a bigger ego.

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.