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Tory Baker presents Book 4 in the Rowdy Johnson Brothers series.

Publicly fighting with a man for an oversold airline seat—embarrassing! Realizing he was the quarterback for the Atlanta Arrows—awkward. Knowing he was your friend's older brother and teenage crush but didn't recognize you—humiliating. When I stormed out of the airport after throwing a temper tantrum, I never expected to cross paths with him again. All I wanted to do was put the night behind me and enjoy a martini. The last thing I expected was for him to waltz into the bar and offer me a night I couldn't refuse.

It's not every day you get asked to be a bridesmaid for the wedding of your ex and your ex-best friend. Call me lucky? My grandmother thinks I'm crazy for agreeing, but I can't let those so-and-sos know they've pummeled my self-worth . . . even if it's true. Then my grandmother goes off the deep end and tells everyone that I have a boyfriend. A pediatric surgeon boyfriend. Worse, she's shown them his photograph. The guy in question? He's a hot piece of bad news. He may have befriended my grandmother, but he's far from being in my good graces. 

All it took was one wrong step and my life came crumbling down. I'll forever remember what my husband said to me before I lost consciousness from the fall...It's over. When I wake up in the hospital, Noah is a changed man-caring, kind, and loving. So I do what I have to do...and pretend I have amnesia.

I've been Queen Bee at our theme park for ten glorious, uncomplicated years. I'm far better at creating fictional magic than real life miracles. So when Landon Arden, my best friend's twin brother and my old high school bully, starts to work at Honeywood, I'm wishing for some gift from above to fix this mess.

The gorgeous groomsman had all my attention when my best friend's ex was allegedly killed. Fun fact? I hated the man. Another fun fact? I was the last one to see him alive. There may not be anyone on my side except that groomsman I can't stop thinking about since the wedding.

I wasn't prepared for Delilah Taylor. Settling down was never on my radar. Almost getting caught with my mouth and hands on her body were definitely not in my plans. Now that I've had a taste of her, I'm rethinking every single f*cking thing.

Until now, college has been fun and games—all girls and hockey, all the time. It's senior year, though, and I'm still undrafted and unsigned. If I plan to play professional hockey, I need to prove to my critics that I can be a leader and take my hockey game seriously. But that doesn't mean I need to get serious in my private life. As the team captain, I'm expected to compete in a campus dance competition, and I get partnered with Ivy Deveraux. She's beautiful, no-nonsense, hyper-focused on her dance career . . . everything I'm not. 

There's only one woman I truly care about: my daughter. Until Maisy Stratford flounces into the front office of the Tennessee Thunderbolts with a heartfelt smile and a tray of baked goods. As the Bolts' newest hire, Maisy is optimistic, enthusiastic, and a goddess at manifestation. Everything I'm not. Known as Brawler, I'm a gruff, quiet, rough-around-the-edges, NHL defenseman. I haven't dated in decades. I've never been married and my daughter's a twenty-one-year-old mischief maker. I don't know how to talk about feelings or place my trust in the hands of a woman.

Lioness. That's the first word that comes to mind when I see the brilliant redhead selling cupcakes at the hockey arena. With the soul of an artist and the spirit of a nomad, Bea Turner is gorgeous, quirky, and refreshing. She's also my teammate's little sister. As the Tennessee Thunderbolts' Rookie, I should steer clear. I'm here to play hockey and provide much-needed financial security for my family. To do that, I need to avoid distractions.

Daxton Ford tried to warn me. He never made promises. He swore a girl like me would only get hurt by a guy like him. Did I listen? He portrays dangerous, dark, and brooding. Or so he thinks. Daxton is trouble; anyone can see that. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders and keeps his circle of friends small.

But I'm the girl who believes in the good. I'm the girl that even when every fiber in my body is telling me to not go there. I head straight for it, even if I know I'll fall.

Wherever I am, I'm the biggest guy in the room. People don't just gawk when they see me. They keep their distance, which is fine by me. Why do you think I bought a fixer-upper in the country? I don't mind the manual labor, just like I don't mind the solitude. I've got my own business and projects, and no room for anything—or anyone—else. That is, until an angel shows up on my doorstep, clutching a month-old advert touting a room for rent in my house.

The woman I crave more than anything wants nothing to do with me. I'm going to do whatever it takes to change her mind. One night with Juniper and I hardly remember any of it. No wonder she's pissed as hell, won't talk to me, or barely look at me. I do what any Johnson worth his salt would. I take her away to my cabin until she's ready to talk. One thing is for certain we won't be leaving until I own Juni like she already owns me.

When I sign with the Tennessee Thunderbolts, I have two goals: prove my injury hasn't benched my career and get back to New York. But then, I meet Mila, the enigmatic therapist tasked with rehabbing my shoulder. With her long ponytail, professional demeanor, and girl-next-door look, Mila is nothing like my usual type. She's better—a good girl with sad eyes and a tragic past our small town loves to dissect.

Lillian came into my life swinging. Mistaking me for my abusive twin brother, she greets me with a swift kick to the balls and a busted lip. Then she really shakes up my world. She needs her job, but she needs a break just as much. And nothing silences my demons as efficiently as playing the hero. To protect her from my jerk twin—her boss—I take her on a business trip and quickly learn that she's different. Blunt. Honest. Intriguingly strange. I'm transfixed, so when she unknowingly sinks a multimillion-dollar deal, I don't speak up. Something my family won't forgive.

When Jane, a wealthy young widow, complains of her sexual frustration in her online support group she gets a little more than she bargained for. Beverley, another widow, suggests that what Jane really needs is a change of scene and she knows just the place. Within a month, Jane has sold her house in Florida and moved upstream to Winchester Drive, an expensive, gated community in Massachusetts. On the outside it looks like anywhere else, but this charming seaside community holds myriad secrets.

When the man who swindled Esme Castillo out of her business is murdered, she is the prime suspect. Now, her attorney, Maureen Gould, must uncover the secrets and lies behind the conspiracies that targeted Esme. Who set up Esme to take the fall. And why?

Healing takes time. Whether it's a broken bone or a laceration, patience is potent medicine. The same goes for relationships. I moved back to town hoping to patch things up with my son. Imagine my surprise when I meet his gorgeous best friend on the exam table at my OB/GYN office, hell-bent on ditching her V-card as quickly as possible. That's not going to happen.

I never claimed to be a saint. But it wasn't until I found myself in cuffs that I learned the damage I was capable of. The only sunshine on those gray prison days came in the form of letters from a hopeful teenager with a quick wit. But the letters weren't addressed to me. They were meant for my bastard cellmate, who'd sooner toss them on the floor with the rest of his trash. So, I picked them up, read them, and wrote back, signing each letter, Love, Dad.

He's a grumpy bad boy with a chip on his shoulder the size of the state. He's dark, broody, sexy as hell, and he knows it. I shouldn't want him so badly. He barely knows I'm alive. Until nature decides to throw us a curve ball. Mother nature...or fate. Once the clothes come off and secrets are revealed...there's no going back. We both know we're careening toward a disaster by falling into bed again. But one taste wasn't enough. It's more like an appetizer for a meal with an endless number of courses. And I'm a starving woman.