You know when you see that big red flag, and you think to yourself, I should probably not go anywhere near there? Yeah, Quincy Carter ignored that big red flag. He walked right up to that red flag, waving blatantly in the wind, and kissed the holy hell out of her. Sure, he probably should've arrested her for breaking a restraining order. He probably also should've stopped her from continuing to break that restraining order. Yet he can't.

Sometimes you need to crash a funeral to experience happiness. At least Kissimmee Singh, aerial artist for Singh Circus, the most sought-after traveling circus of all time, keeps telling herself that’s why she crashes funerals. In reality, she’s lost and confused. Sometimes it’s nice to experience other people’s grief and be reminded that life isn’t as bad as it could be.

The first day that she walked onto the surgical floor that Chevy Clayborne spent most of his time on, he knew that he’d do anything to make her his. For two years, he played the long game. He slowly insinuated himself into her life, and the moment that she needed him, he swooped in like the knight in shining armor that he only pretended to be but most assuredly wasn’t. He’s no real knight. In fact, he’s the villain in everyone’s story but his own.

All Birdee Calvert wanted was to be normal. She wanted the parents who didn’t divorce when she was a kid and make her life a living nightmare. She wanted the sisters who actually liked her. She wanted to live in a town where everyone loved her and didn’t have a single bad thing to say about her. That was not the life Birdee was given. She had the exact opposite life. The kind of life where she slunk through the grocery store with a hoodie on so no one would recognize her. The kind of life where men like Creed Daugherty didn’t give her a second look.

She was enraptured by the man they called Romeo the moment that he turned those butterscotch-colored eyes her way. What wasn’t to love about a big, burly, plaid-wearing lumberjack? He was tall, gorgeous, and knew how to wield a chainsaw better than Leatherface. He could fell a tree in seconds, had thighs that were as thick as said trees, filled out a pair of Wranglers better than any cowboy ever, and didn’t care that she could operate heavy machinery better than him. He was everything a girl like Mable could ask for. The caveat?