RELEASE: April 21st, 2015
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?
About Rachel Van Dyken:
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
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Rachel-Van-Dyken/e/B0054TW5AA/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1407369649&sr=8-2-ent
“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.
“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.”
“I win,” Colton said, his eyes narrowing, “she promises never to bring up the pancake incident again—or at least for a year, we all know it’s hard for little squirt to keep her mouth shut.”
I stuck out my tongue.
Colt’s eyes heated for a brief moment before he swore and said, “Cute.”
“And your terms?” Jason’s eyes narrowed. “If you win?”
“I want . . .” I bit my lip. I wanted a kiss. I wanted time with Colton, I wanted . . . “Colton watches Star Wars with me.”
Colton groaned. He was the only guy breathing who hated Star Wars. When he was little he’d had nightmares that Jabba the Hutt was in his closet.“Four, five, and six,” I added. Jason whistled under his breath. “Tough terms. Tough terms.”
“I accept.” Colton shrugged as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Bastard. “I’m not worried, been training, lifting weights . . .”
Yeah, I’d noticed. Not that he’d needed to before, but damn, now the man was cut.
I slept like crap all night—proving my point again. All men should burn in hell. I switched between nightmares of Colton’s rejection and dreams of Max riding in to rescue me on a giant-ass aloe vera plant.
Groaning, I tossed and turned, finally falling into a deep sleep around two a.m.
“Fire!” A voice penetrated my dreams. “Fire! Wake up!”
I jolted out of my bed to see Max sitting calmly at the end. He had two Starbucks cups in hand and was sporting a pair of black skinny jeans, a blue V-neck T-shirt, and a smile that looked like it belonged on the cover of .
“Hey, you’re awake.” His grin widened.
“Yeah, weird, I thought there was a fire.”
He handed me the coffee. “There is. In your pants.”
“Because you’re a liar.” He patted my leg and shook his head. “Do I even want to know how this happened? Or was it the usual?”
“Usual?” My voice was gravelly, I took a large sip of coffee—it did wonders for my mood.
“Yeah, the usual Milo freak-out where you speak before you think. Typically involves lots of cursing, yelling, sometimes a fight breaks out, and I always end up having to fix it.”
My face burned.
Max nodded. “The usual, then. Gotcha.”
“Why are you here? What time is it?”
“Five a.m.,” he answered. “Your mom’s a fox, by the way, I swear she checked my ass out twice as I walked up the stairs.”
“She did not.”
“Your dad did the same. Ten bucks says your mom asks where I got my jeans and buys him a pair—oh, and by the way, you owe me big. I finally asked out the Starbucks girl and had to cancel our date on account that my other girlfriend”—his eyes narrowed—“had an emergency.”
I winced. “Please tell me you didn’t explain it that way to her.”“Course not. I said my asthmatic little sister had an attack and almost died screaming my name . . .”
“You don’t have a sister.”
“Little Maddie’s screams were so loud, all she wanted was her big brother Max.”
“And I can’t deny her the one thing she wants in life, the one thing that makes her go on living.” Max wiped a fake tear. “I’m a broken man, Milo, and sisters are more important than dates.”
“I’m sure she was understanding.”
Max grinned. “You could say that.”
“What?” He held up his hands. “I’m a guy. Just because you labeled me your gay friend freshman year does not actually make it true.”
“It just sucks. When you see your ex you want to win.”
Max sighed and patted his knee. “Have a seat while I explain how the world works, Milo.”
I sat on his knee and crossed my arms.
“Boy meets girl. Boy and girl break up. Boy and girl go separate ways. Fast forward ten years. Boy meets girl at supermarket. Boy wants to look like man, have balls of steel, sport a six-pack, and be driving a Ferrari. Now, tell me girl doesn’t want the same thing.”
“I’ve never wanted balls of steel.”