My brother’s best friend might be a cocky wide receiver with an ego the size of Texas, but I swear I did not try to almost kill him with a ghost pepper. He did that all by himself. Logan Murphy should come with a warning. He’s as hot as a Carolina Reaper on black asphalt in the middle of July. With perfectly messy dark hair and smoldering blue eyes—and don’t even get me started on the way that black tee stretches across his toned chest… He’s my brother’s best friend. He’s also a football star on track to win the first wide\-receiver MVP in league history. Good thing I only date golfers… or I did. Good thing he’s only visiting for a month, because the more I see he’s not a player, the harder it is to block him from running away with my heart. I’ve always loved football, but after eight years pro, everything about it leaves me cold. So when I agree to head south with my best friend, the last thing I expect is to have my face melted off by his pepper\-loving little sister. Dylan Bradford was supposed to be a kid, not a feisty pinup who looks at me like she’s never seen a man before. She’s all curves and cutoffs, bare feet dancing in the warm summer night, But I’m only in town a month, and she doesn’t date football players. Then late\-night talks turn to sharing past hurts and future dreams, and shy looks turn to confident kisses. The heat between us can’t be denied. It’s spicy and sweet, and it melts us together. Until the way we touch becomes more than friendly—it’s forever. (THE WAY WE TOUCH is a small\-town, brother’s best friend, sports romance with hilarious “accidents,” and a dirty\-talking hero. No cheating. No cliffhanger. No third\-act breakup.)

He’s a grumpy, retired kicker who says he only breaks things. I’m a thirty\-year\-old virgin with something he can break (and I don’t mean my heart)… How does one get to be a thirty\-year\-old virgin? In my case, start with being risk\-averse and cautious, focused on building your career, then inherit your 12\-year\-old, special\-needs brother. Done! Zane Bradford appeared at the perfect time. He takes my brother to equine therapy, he gives me rides to work, and he rescues me when I collapse in the shower. (Yes, he saw me naked.) He says he only breaks things, but I only see him fixing everything. Heck, his job is as a repair man. This grumpy, angry god with lean muscles, silky dark hair, and ice blue eyes has taken himself out of the game. But massage therapy is my job, and I’m ready to play. Rachel Wells is ruining everything. She walks into my workplace and argues with me, talks back, defends herself. She gives me romance books to “improve my mood,” and insists on massage therapy to ease my pain. Chronic pain isn’t my problem—she is, with her bright green eyes and sassy attitude. Then she tells me she’s never been kissed. (What’s wrong with the men in Birmingham?) The more she tempts me, the more I feel my resolve weakening. She wants to play, but I’m not going to break. (THE WAY WE PLAY is a small\-town, grumpy\-sunshine, sports romance with close proximity, enemies\-to\-lovers vibes, and a virgin FMC, and an over\-protective alpha hero. No cheating. No cliffhanger. No third\-act breakup.)

We promised our love was forever. A decade later, two little blue lines might settle the score. You’ve heard of those kids who peak in high school? Meet my love life. Garrett Bradford was mine from the moment we saw each other in ninth grade. Even then, he was a six\-foot\-four mountain of muscles with bright blue eyes, a wide grin, and a way with his hands. He was the high school football star, and I was the dance team captain. We were the storybook cliché… until we weren’t. Now he’s the most famous offensive lineman in the league, and I’m a buttoned\-up, ultra\-professional lawyer. My dancing days are over, and my carefully controlled life is a mess. Infertility killed my marriage, or that’s what I told myself. Infertility and a cheating ex. And my inability to get over Garrett Bradford. One reckless night at his little sister’s wedding is only supposed to be a reunion, a trip down memory lane to a time when life was happier. Six weeks later, I’m staring at a positive pregnancy test wondering, How did this happen? I figure I’m on my own until Garrett overhauls his life, moves back to our small town, and shows up every day to massage my feet and hold my hair when I barf and go with me to all my doctor’s appointments. Our situation has an end date, just like it did so many years ago. Unless this little score changes the game and gives us the second chance I thought we’d lost. (THE WAY WE SCORE is a small\-town, second\-chance sports romance with reunited high school sweethearts, close proximity, surprise pregnancy, a protective Daddy Bear, parents to lovers, it’s always been you, and found family vibes. No cheating. No cliffhanger. No third\-act breakup.)

Hendrix Bradford doesn't believe in settling down (or babies or poop). Until a free\-spirited girl from his past shows up with a poopy baby and a major need for help. A marriage of convenience is a temporary solution, but the more time they spend together, the more it feels like this collision is meant to last The tight\-end will be tamed... FULL BLURB COMING SOON!

Jack Bradford is always in control. He's lost too much not to be. Forced to step up and take responsibility for his siblings at a young age, he knows better to rush into anything. The one time he did, he was left with a baby girl and a broken heart. But Allie Sinclair isn't giving up on this sexy single dad. She's had her own share of losses, but claiming the coach will be a win. Until her ex shows up determined to reclaim his family. FULL BLURB COMING SOON!