It’s natural to want the one you can’t have. And for as long as I could remember, I’d secretly wanted my brother’s best friend, Jace. He was six years older and always treated me like the sister he never had. Fast forward a decade. We were all in our 20s now. Jace had moved in with my brother, Nathan, and me to help us make ends meet after our parents died. It was just the three of us - an odd family dynamic. Living under our roof, Jace was as bossy and protective as ever. But he certainly didn’t look at me like a sister anymore. That was what made things so complicated.

Dean Moser is a cocky stock market savant whose friends are all settling down, leaving Boulder's infamous ladies' man all alone. When Norah needs a fake date for her parents' anniversary party, her new silent investor is the perfect guy for the job. It seems like a foolproof plan.... That is until Norah decides to break her biggest rule and lock lips with Dean in the middle of the party to spite her meddling mother.

Never borrow pants from your brother. Especially if he’s a size smaller than you are, because all that pressure in the junk will short-circuit your brain. And you’ll lie to a woman in a club about your real name. Leave her unsatisfied after making out in a bathroom. Then find out that she’s the one thing standing in the way of your dreams. And she very much doesn’t like being lied to. Now I have to convince Lila Valentine - the woman I can’t stop thinking about, my biggest regret, and my new boss - that I’m what’s best for the baseball team she’s inherited.

From NYT and USA Today best-selling author A.L. Jackson comes a friends-to-lovers romance about an unattainable rock star and his best friend’s younger sister.

There are a few things you should know about my brother’s roommate. Wolfie Cox is complicated, and incredibly sexy. Unfortunately, he has an impressive stick lodged so far up his ass, he’s about as emotionally available as a chinchilla. Actually, that might be an insult to the chinchilla community. So, naturally, I want to ride him like a bicycle.

Call it superstition, but when a guy bats as hot as Brooks Elliott, you don’t mess with what’s working. And what’s working is him keeping his pants zipped and doing all of his scoring on the field. So when I hear he’s planning to ditch his V-card now that he’s been traded to baseball’s lovable losers - a.k.a. my home team and my reason for living every March through October - I do what any rational, dedicated, obsessed fan would do. I make a plan to stop him. But the thing about stopping him is that it requires spending time with him. Lots. And lots. And lots of time.

Lexington Dane was my brother’s best friend growing up. We did everything together. He taught me how to throw a punch, how to change a tire...and he taught me how to kiss. I fell hard and fast, and gave him all my firsts. I promised I’d wait for him.... But I’m done waiting, because he went off to college and never came back. He took his fancy business degree and moved to New York City, where he promptly became a real estate mogul - turning every penthouse and apartment project he touched into gold. 

I’m not boyfriend material. If a trail of broken hearts and a piss-poor record of failed relationships have taught me anything, it’s this. My buddies are happy to give me shit about my latest breakup from here to next Sunday. Thanks, but I’d rather have a root canal. And a vasectomy. At the same time. Relief comes in an unlikely package - the gorgeous and feisty Maren. She just so happens to be my best friend’s sister, so that’s not awkward at all.

Deacon was rough on the exterior, but apparently on the inside? Mr. Single-and-Ready-to-Mingle was a baby whisperer. After that night, we became friends. He’d go for coffee runs. Come over to chat. Normal friend stuff. But over time, our conversations ran deeper. We got closer. Until one night we crossed the line.  

Mr. Santillian, Despite the fact I'm currently living out of your guest room and sleeping with you most nights, I am writing to announce my resignation, effective two weeks from today. In other words, I'll locate someone who is both obscenely overqualified and willing to devote their days to the handful of tasks you are able to wrench from your perfectionist, micromanaging grip.

I’d sworn off men. And then I met Nick Christiansen. Technically, I fell for him, literally, the moment I landed in his quarterback-sized arms and looked into those soulful eyes. I blame the rum. Or was it tequila? Spoiler alert: It was those delectable dimples. Either way, Nick was stupidly handsome and ridiculously charming. He held me like he cared and listened to me like I mattered. Captivated by great conversation and rock-hard abs, Nick had me reconsidering the “No Men” promise I’d made myself. I still regret walking away the next day.

I didn't know I was that person. You know - the one who gets the kids. But that's what the will said. June Lawler: legal guardian. All my sister's kids have ever known is San Francisco, but I have to take them back to our family's small-town farm. The last thing I'm expecting is the dark car rolling down my dirt driveway. The man who steps out of it is as rich as he is rude, and I want nothing to do with him. Even if my traitor body didn't get the message.

My plan was simple. Get invited onto his yacht. Find information to destroy him. But I wasn't prepared for Alaric Prince. Dangerous and seductive, he trapped me in his gilded cage. He calls me Dove. Easily preyed on. Easily broken. A man that ruthless only wants to crush me. I must resist the temptation to let him.

The contract with Major League Soccer was supposed to help repair my damaged reputation. Then I discovered that I’d made a deal with the devil: The player I’m supposed to recruit is none other than the bad-boy star Premier League footballer Rush McKenzie. British. Tattooed. Sexy. A man currently at the center of a huge scandal. The goal? To convince him to stay in the States. But what’s wrong with a little fun in the meantime? No strings. No sweet nothings. Just a way to pass the time while we’re both struggling to prove our true selves to the world. 

A rock star kidnaps a runaway bride...Kidnapping the bride seemed like a good idea at the time. Her fiancé stole my fortune, so I stole his woman. Tit for tat. Or tat for tit. However you want to look at it. The one thing I didn’t expect? Willow Honeycutt, preschool teacher, boy band super fan, is completely crazy. And somehow she’s turned the tables on me.