“Watch out for those Winslow brothers. They’re nothing but trouble.” That’s what everyone used to say when Remy, Flynn, Ty, and Jude were kids. But now that those wild boys are all grown up, it’s time for the four, larger-than-life men to settle down—and find love. If only it were that easy. Going to a fortune-teller was supposed to be a joke. Something to laugh about later. But instead, this is where fate decided to deal her first hand. Four life-changing fortunes. Four charming and sexy brothers. Four different paths to love.

When it comes to life’s fun and games, always know: The rules. What’s at stake. When to quit. Wise words from…well…my fortune cookie. But wise words, nonetheless. I just wish the Fortune Cookie People had considered how hard the whole “knowing when to quit” would be to carry out when a woman like me is gambling with her feelings. Heart-palpitating, vageen-tingling, butterflies-in-my-belly feelings for a noncommittal, hot-as-sin player by the name of Jude Winslow. After a crazy night where we were both pretending to be someone else, I’ve found myself immersed in the fun of the fling. The thrill. The irresistible charm. The pleasure of being with a man like him. Problem is, I’m positive he’s the exact opposite of husband material, and that is a serious issue for someone who is fixated on finding her happily ever after. I know the rules and I know the stakes, oh wise Fortune Cookie. Now I’d just like to know how close to self-destruction I have to get before I find the will to quit Jude Winslow. Goodness knows, when your heart is on the line, you can’t ante up your bet with an IOU. Author Note: The Bet is a full-length standalone romantic comedy and the first standalone book in the Winslow Brothers Collection. This book is chock-full of hilarious rom-com moments, but also, it’s spicy. We’re talking alllllll the sexy.

“I need a ride,” I said to a sexy stranger on a Harley. Three hours later? A six-foot-tall Marilyn Monroe was officiating our Vegas wedding at the Happy Chapel. But it’s not love—it’s business—a marriage pact made out of desperation so my career doesn’t go up in flames. Sure, Flynn Winslow is a hot, broody, mysterious man that women all over the globe would sell their souls to land for real, but I have my eyes on the prize and our marriage arrangement will end in three months with no strings attached. Right? Or will it all go out the window when I have to move in with Mr. Mysterious and our fake marriage starts to feel remarkably real? I wish it were as easy as telling myself, Do not fall in love with your fake husband, Daisy, but apparently, when feelings get involved, not everything that happens in Vegas knows how to stay in Vegas.

Dear Fellow Bookworms, I need your help. I, Rachel Rose, am in quite the pickle with a hot-as-sin English Lit professor by the name of Ty Winslow, and I don’t know how to get out of it. Let me break it down for you: Girl meets Guy. Girl gives Guy her underwear on a dare but nothing else identifying (like her name or number) because she plans to never see Guy again. But Girl does see Guy again, in a very professional setting, where she is to be the Teaching Assistant to his Professor for an entire semester. Girl would like to ignore all events of the past, but Guy is a whole list of tempting things that are hard to resist. (See below:) #1: Insanely attractive. #2: The most fun a girl could ever have. #3: Successful and intelligent. #4: He can quote Walt Whitman at the drop of a hat—which I’m sure you know is a dangerous thing for a literature-lover. #5: Smooth with a capital S. He could charm the panties off a woman WITHOUT the help of a dare. And now, Mr. Hot Professor, the man I’m determined to resist, is challenging me to a competition—a playful, secret game, so to speak—where the winner takes all. My plan? Play the game long enough to win—long enough to walk away with the upper hand—without doing something stupid like falling in love. It’s possible . . . right? If you have any advice, please reach out to me soon—before it’s too late. XOXO, Rachel

Put a finger down if you’ve ever been a single woman who got stuck in a New York City elevator in the middle of a summer blackout with your former high school sweetheart—whom you haven’t seen in years—while pregnant with a baby that isn’t biologically yours. And you can’t believe how handsome that blast from your past is, so you unwittingly flirt with him a little even though your life is so crazy complicated you’re barely keeping your head above water, but everything about him makes you think you could totally still be in love with him. \puts a finger down\ What? Just me? Needless to say, my current status is thorny. And no, I didn’t miss how close that word is to another one. Even though he’s the epitome of tall, dark, and incredibly handsome, Remington Winslow has been a single bachelor for most of his life. It’s clichéd and basic—until you consider the fact that once upon a terrible time, he got left at the altar. He doesn’t do relationships. He definitely doesn’t fall in love. And I’m just trying to survive a tangled web of unexpected motherhood and running one of the top real estate firms in the city that never sleeps. He’s the jaded guy who doesn’t want to settle down, and I’m the career-focused woman with more baggage than a 747 can hold. We’re just two friends who used to be in love. Now, if someone would tell my hormones I’m not a teenager anymore, I’d be set.