Our first kiss was a lie. Our second was a mistake. And the night we spent tangled up in each other? Hot as hell but a complete disaster. Because now Sutton Sinclair—the sharp-tongued troublemaker who left claw marks down my back and a dent in my self-control—is living in my backyard cottage with her teenage daughter. And I’m her goddamn landlord. I like things quiet. Controlled. She's neither. Sutton’s chaos wrapped in sunshine, a temptation in scrubs I can’t seem to stay away from. When her ex shows up acting like Sutton’s still his to lose, I claim her on instinct. The kiss? Hot. The fallout? Immediate. Now my family—and the entire town—thinks we’re a couple. Fake dating Sutton wasn’t in my playbook, but if being a pro-footballer turned high school coach has taught me anything, it’s how to pivot. All I have to do is keep my hands to myself. Then her cottage floods. Now we’re sharing a roof…and a bed. The line between real and fake is blurring faster than I can redo the guest house. This is supposed to be temporary. But Sutton doesn’t just crash into my life—she rewrites it. She’s in my home, moaning my name, breaking every rule I’ve ever lived by. And I’m starting to want something permanent with the woman who’s already got one foot out the door.

Hiring the chaotic woman I pulled out of a shed fire to be my daughter's nanny was a bad idea. Letting her live with me? Even worse. Chloe Bradshaw is too vibrant, too bold, and way too young for me. She's pure sunshine-in-a-hurricane energy and the exact opposite of the calm, steady influence my daughter needs. But Emma adores her from the second they meet, and I'd do anything for my little girl. Including sharing a roof with the one woman I shouldn't want. Chloe's the walking definition of off-limits. And one hell of a temptation I can't stop thinking about. Between midnight snack run-ins, hair-braiding lessons, and the way she looks in my stolen hoodie, forbidden stopped being a warning and started feeling like a dare. I swore I wouldn't cross that line with her. Then I did. Again. And again. And now, what we both insisted was only temporary is starting to feel like it could be real. Suddenly, I'm not just her boss or her landlord. I'm the guy threatening to burn down anything that hurts her. But the end date of our arrangement is looming, and her suitcase is still half-packed. She says she's not staying. I say she's already mine.