My book boyfriends go with me everywhere. I prefer them tall, dark, and handsome, but I don’t discriminate. They sweep me off my feet, are always just my type, and are there for me whenever I need them—in my purse, in my car, and even in my bathtub. Book boyfriends may not be real, but at least they won’t break my heart… or get another girl pregnant. I don’t do messy and complicated. That’s why I can’t fall for Beckett. With his Clark Kent glasses, he’s a superhero in disguise. And his superpower? Melting panties with a single glance. It took me seven years to mend my broken heart, and I’m not about to hand it over to any man without a fight. Especially a man like Beckett’s, a buttoned-up businessman with horrible taste in music. Even though his wicked charm, broody stares, and washboard abs are a tempting combination, I’ll never fall in love again. The problem is, I don’t want Beckett between the pages—I want him between the sheets.