It’s all fun and games…until someone’s heart is broken.
They’re not kids anymore, but Milo Caro is certain that
Colton Mathews will only see her as his best friend’s little sister for the
rest of their lives. After all, he made that clear the night before she left
for college. But four years later, her brother is getting married and Colt’s
the best man—and guess who is the best man’s last-minute date?
Milo vows to use the wedding to either claim the smoldering
firefighter’s heart or douse this torch for good. When Max—her best friend from
college, who may be carrying a torch of his own—crashes the party, they devise
a plan to make Colt see what he’s missing. But after Colt catches on, he
decides to cook up his own revenge.
Now it’s personal. Colt and Milo are at war, and between
Max’s questionable acting methods, an unfortunate trip to jail, and a maniacal
fiancée, what could possibly go right?
“Aw, sweetie.” Max laughed and pulled me in for a hug. I winced
as my pounding head made contact with his chest. “Believe me, if we would have
slept together, you would remember, even drunk, you would remember.”
“Someone’s cocky.”
“Confident.” He released me. “So are we upset or are we okay?”
“We?”
“Partners.” He winked. “For life. You and me, we’re a we.” He
lifted the coffee to his lips. “Hey, that rhymed, how badass am I, after
getting drunk last night?” He nodded his head. “Sharp as a tack.”
The coffee slid out of the cup and onto his hand.
Lots of cursing followed.
Then flailing.
“Yeah.” I took the coffee away. “Sharp as something.”
“So.” Max reached behind him and pulled out my diary. “Curious
minds want to know, when you drew that picture of the house you and Colton were
going to live in once you got married in front of the queen of England, did you
purposefully draw the dog without a tail or were you just confused?”
“Give me that!” I lunged for the pink diary. “How the hell did
you find it?”
Max held it above his head and took a sip of coffee. “People
always hide interesting stuff under their mattresses, though I had you pinned
for more of a signed ’N Sync poster, considering all the stupid hearts around
JC Chasez’s face on the torn-up poster in your closet.” The freak had gone in
my closet too? “This is just as good. Though I have to admit, I’m a bit
disappointed that you chose Prince Harry to walk you down the aisle. Do I mean
nothing to you?”
“I had a thing for royalty!” I shouted, my headache making a
fierce pounding in my temples.
“Mmm.” Max set his coffee down but kept the diary above his
head. “One last question.”
“If I answer, will you give it back so I can burn it?”
“I’ll give it back.” He held up his hand. “But burning this
would be a crime. It’s like reality TV only worse, I seriously cried real tears
and it wasn’t because the story was sad. Oh, and P.S. It took you five years to
spell nightmare right, just thought I’d let you know.”
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
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