As the team’s publicist, I desperately need a football player to be the face of our charity calendar. Turns out our one-time party boy receiver Jones Beckett needs a savvy PR woman to manage his new good guy rep. Sounds like a simple give and take, even though I’ll be traveling around the country, snapping pictures of the sexy athlete holding rescue kittens and puppies. Still, I’m dedicated to my job, so I'll stick to my iron-clad rule—don't date a player. And never ever fall for one. No matter how charming, big-hearted and devilishly clever the man is.

Scottie Price just started a new job and it's a real sausage fest. She's the only woman on a team filled with Brads and Chads. Expecting a bachelor pad atmosphere, she is quickly corrected when she finds out everyone is happily married. In an effort to impress her boss, Scottie mentions her nonexistent husband in a company meeting. But eagle-eyed Chad points out her lack of wedding ring.

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.

A forbidden romance with my brother’s hockey teammate wasn’t on my to-do list when I moved across the country… Neither was getting locked out of a friend’s place wearing next to nothing. Or spending the night with the sexy stranger who rescues me. But I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone so getting out of the rest of my clothes with him seems like a good way to start. In the morning, I learn the filthy-mouthed man with the talented hands is not only the hotshot new hockey player on my brother’s team: he’s also–wait for it–my brand new roommate.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever done this. Written a racy message and sent it to—oops—the wrong person. Yeah, me too. Except, I sent my latest Tales of a Naughty Virgin column detailing my fantasies about my hot, charming, thoroughly bangable next-door-neighbor to…my entire company. Did I mention I’m a children’s book editor? Well, I was. *Facepalm.* At least the column goes viral, but I’m still the gal who gets fired for her not-safe-for-work thoughts about the so-called “Mister Sexy Pants”.

I’ve got a list of people I absolutely don’t ever want to be stuck with on a boat, or a plane, or a train, and it starts and ends with the broody, grumpy, too-sexy-for-my-own good Axel Huxley. Also known as this romance novelist’s number one nemesis. The man is legendary for his mighty pen and his even mightier scowl. I tried to work together with the cocky thriller writer once upon a time, but the two of us are like vodka and good decisions. We don’t play well together.

Being hired as the PR representative for the hockey team I’ve always been a fan of, should be a dream come true, especially because my old crush plays for them. My suggestion to save Briggs's career is solid… have him fake date someone wholesome who can change his image. That’s when my big mouth gets in the way and I admit to being the-girl-next-door. Now… my boss is offering me the promotion of a lifetime, but it comes with strings… Fake date Briggs Conley!

I never thought I’d be a runaway bride. But when it came down to it, I just couldn’t marry the wrong man. So, I ran. And somehow, I ended up in Star Falls, Colorado—stranded, no luggage, no plan—in a wedding dress with a past I’d rather forget. Fate lands me in the only available rental in town, a cozy little cabin… right next door to Byron Miller, the brooding billionaire who wants nothing to do with me. Or this town.

I’ve always been a wild card–the first to start a fight on the ice, and the life of the party off it–but appearances can be deceiving. Being traded to the Boston Rebels could not have come at a better time. With serious family obligations to fulfill and a contract renewal with a new hockey team on the line, I have no time for anything else. I return to Boston knowing I need to buckle down and focus on what really matters.

There are three words most men can’t resist - I dare you. So as you can see, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I had no choice when my buddies said, “I bet you can’t get that brunette beauty to kiss you before the night ends.” I proved them wrong, and oh how good it felt to be right when I swept the quick-tongued woman into my arms and kissed the breath out of her at the party. But, I made a slight miscalculation. Turns out she’s my brand new enemy.

Lennox Kennedy is beautiful, loud, and the love of my life. She's also my ex-girlfriend. The first time I saw her after ten years apart, I slammed into the plexiglass minutes before our game was set to begin. The second time I threw up. The third time's a charm apparently because as my fiancée and I walked into an appointment to meet the woman hired to plan our nuptials—there she was again. Obviously, I did what any smart man would do—I called off the wedding. I don't have a plan per se, other than winning back the only girl I've ever loved.

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.

After getting ditched at the altar, every “I do” makes me want to scream. Which is a problem, considering I’m an associate editor at Bride magazine. Just when I thought my job couldn’t get any worse, I got roped into being a last-minute bridesmaid... and paired with Wilder Hayes.

Let me tell the story of how I fell in love with a woman who had no idea that we were even dating. The ridiculousness started when she stole my beer, and trust me, my grumpy self doesn’t normally share. But somehow, Avery Wilson is the exception to every one of my many rules. Unfortunately, I’m not hers. Not only is she the daughter of the Rev’s coach who hates me, she’s also sworn off dating for the year.

I really don't need a bodyguard—I run a small-town lavender farm, for bee's sake! But I'm getting one anyway since my identical twin sister just booked the movie role of a lifetime and it's being shot in my hometown. And guess who my new broody, tattooed protector is? None other than the guy I had a one-night stand with last month.

As the team’s publicist, I desperately need a football player to be the face of our charity calendar. Turns out our one-time party boy receiver Jones Beckett needs a savvy PR woman to manage his new good guy rep. Sounds like a simple give and take, even though I’ll be traveling around the country, snapping pictures of the sexy athlete holding rescue kittens and puppies. Still, I’m dedicated to my job, so I'll stick to my iron-clad rule—don't date a player. And never ever fall for one. No matter how charming, big-hearted and devilishly clever the man is.

Raise your hand if you’ve ever done this. Written a racy message and sent it to—oops—the wrong person. Yeah, me too. Except, I sent my latest Tales of a Naughty Virgin column detailing my fantasies about my hot, charming, thoroughly bangable next-door-neighbor to…my entire company. Did I mention I’m a children’s book editor? Well, I was. *Facepalm.* At least the column goes viral, but I’m still the gal who gets fired for her not-safe-for-work thoughts about the so-called “Mister Sexy Pants”.

In this collection of sports romances, you will find Most Valuable Playboy, Most Likely to Score, A Wild Card Kiss, Plays Well With Others, The Good Guy Challenge and Two a Day. If you love a strong sexy football hero who falls hard for the woman of his dreams, this is the collection for you! It's got all your favorite tropes—fake romance, brother’s best friend, forbidden romance, workplace romance, runaway bride, the one that got away, age-gap, friends-to-lovers, lessons in dating and more!

After my divorce, I swore off dating. No commitments, no complications—just a clean, quiet life. So when I’m assigned to fix Kaden Crawford—the grumpy hockey star with a reputation as the league’s biggest PR disaster—I’m determined to keep things strictly professional. But Kaden has a knack for creating chaos. The solution? Staging a fake relationship to save his reputation.

After the year I’ve had, the last thing I need is a hot, tattooed, rugged stranger distracting me from my job. But when the irresistible man I meet in a dive bar devastates me with a knee-weakening kiss, I throw caution to the wind and spend a scorching night in his arms on the beach.

I’ve got a list of people I absolutely don’t ever want to be stuck with on a boat, or a plane, or a train, and it starts and ends with the broody, grumpy, too-sexy-for-my-own good Axel Huxley. Also known as this romance novelist’s number one nemesis. The man is legendary for his mighty pen and his even mightier scowl. I tried to work together with the cocky thriller writer once upon a time, but the two of us are like vodka and good decisions. We don’t play well together.

It was only supposed to be a marriage of convenience. Let me just say, this whole part-time lover thing was her idea. I’d have gone all in from the start, but hey, when a gorgeous, brilliant woman invites you into her bed, and only her bed...well, I said yes. But then, one hysterical phone call from my brother later, begging me to find myself a wife so grandfather’s business stays in the family, and I need a promotion with Elise. Turns out a full-time husband suits her needs too, and a temporary marriage of convenience ought to do the trick, until we can simply untie the knot....

I did something I’ve never done. I couldn’t help it. The man I met at the bar was too gorgeous, too fascinating, too sexy. The next thing I knew, we had a one-night stand. Except....It turns out, he’s Denver Gilchrist, lead singer of the Road Kings, the legendary band that broke up five years ago. How was I supposed to know I was sleeping with a genius rock god? I’m just a piano teacher who plays jazz on Thursday nights. I have a happy, single life with my cat. I don’t need Denver’s brand of chaos. But now, I’m addicted. And so is he.

The first time a woman stepped out of a painting, I thought I was seeing things. The second time, I thought I was going mad. The night she emerged from a Renoir, I felt something else entirely -- a deep stirring of desire, and the wish to get to know the brilliant beauty who's been trapped inside a painted garden for years. She can only come out at night in the Musée d'Orsay, where I work. There, after hours, we wander through galleries, with the Van Goghs, the Monets, and the Toulouse Lautrecs the only witnesses to our midnight kisses and, soon, our trysts.

A forbidden romance with my brother’s hockey teammate wasn’t on my to-do list when I moved across the country… Neither was getting locked out of a friend’s place wearing next to nothing. Or spending the night with the sexy stranger who rescues me. But I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone so getting out of the rest of my clothes with him seems like a good way to start. In the morning, I learn the filthy-mouthed man with the talented hands is not only the hotshot new hockey player on my brother’s team: he’s also–wait for it–my brand new roommate.

I really don't need a bodyguard—I run a small-town lavender farm, for bee's sake! But I'm getting one anyway since my identical twin sister just booked the movie role of a lifetime and it's being shot in my hometown. And guess who my new broody, tattooed protector is? None other than the guy I had a one-night stand with last month.

For the last year, I’ve wanted someone I can’t have. The man my father built his latest multimillion-dollar business with. He’s nearly a decade older than I am, and he’s entirely forbidden. The fact that he’s never given me a second glance only makes me long for him more.

I was only trying to help a friend. I swear. I was legit asking for a friend who was finally ready to date again. So I did what any good friend would do. Posted it for her. It seemed like a good idea at the time - I’d weed through the candidates, and bring her my top picks. But then he responded. Is it wrong to date the guy I screened for my bestie? Not asking for a friend.

There are three words most men can’t resist - I dare you. So as you can see, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I had no choice when my buddies said, “I bet you can’t get that brunette beauty to kiss you before the night ends.” I proved them wrong, and oh how good it felt to be right when I swept the quick-tongued woman into my arms and kissed the breath out of her at the party. But, I made a slight miscalculation. Turns out she’s my brand new enemy.

Let me list the reasons why dating the sexy, charming pro hockey star is a bad idea: He’s one of my closest friends. All our friends are friends. The wounds I’ve got from past relationships go deep. And so do his. We’re both devoutly single -- it’s just safer for the heart that way. But there’s no reason not to bid on the gorgeous, clever athlete at the charity auction this weekend. If I win, it’ll be a "friendsdate." And I do win. I win him big. And hard. And all night long.