A piece of paper destroyed me. It was one day...one moment...one letter. One lie. That's all it took to change the course of my life. Now he's back. And he thinks I'm the one who broke him. Someone is lying. And it's not me. But it's not him either. We need to learn to trust again. Sometimes, however, I think trust should be considered a four-letter word. Note to listeners: This book is a stand-alone novel.

Life hasn't been easy for Charlie. Her mother was a monster. And when Charlie left home, there wasn't always a warm bed, food, or a hot shower. She figured out how to get by on her looks. When her mother dies and she comes home to put that part of her life behind her, she finds the diary. It fills her with rage. She's out for revenge. But along the way she meets him. Ethan DOES play by the rules. And at the top of his list is "Don't get involved with clients." Will he break his rules for Charlie?

It was my home run ball that shattered her face. Right along with her modeling career. Now it's my mission to help her rebuild her life. And get her to love the game that she hates. The game that dictates my life both on and off the field. But when the lines of our friendship become blurred, I worry she'll just be another casualty of my three-strikes rule. The rule I have to protect my money, my future, my heart. No girl has ever broken it. I've never wanted one to. Until now.

In one second, my life disappeared. My past. My memories. My future. The only certainty I have from the last three years is that my older brother is dead and that I am the only eyewitness. In order to protect the case, the lawyers demand no one give me any information about my life...I must remember on my own. My only help comes from my brother’s best friend and world-renowned investigative reporter Spencer Cross. He has no idea how many nights I’ve spent dreaming of his name—and his body—next to mine. Each day we spend together, I find it harder to want my old life back.

I’m a full-time single dad to three daughters and CFO at Cloverleigh Farms. I don’t have time to fall in love - I’m too busy trying to run a business, keep the red socks out of the white laundry, and get the damn pillowcases on without owing a dollar to the swear jar. Sure, Frannie Sawyer is beautiful and sweet, but she’s 27, the boss’ daughter, and my new part-time nanny - which means she’s completely off-limits. It’s bad enough I can’t stop fantasizing about her. What kind of jerk would I be if I acted on the impulse to kiss her?