You'd think a romance author would know better than to fall for her fake husband. It's the oldest trope in the
book . . . literally. But it turns out writing it and living it are two very different things.

The plan was enticing-marry hockey's hottest player so I could receive my inheritance and give my daughters the life they deserve. I'm already a single mom at twenty-five-how hard could it be?

Well . . . the answer is harder than you think because Leo Sinclair is so much more than I bargained for. Six foot, four inches of toned muscle and golden skin wrapped around the most perfectly chiseled jaw and dangerously charming smile. I knew he'd be hard to resist . . . but it's not just his looks that weaken my resolve.

It's the way he wins over my daughters with ease.
The way he sees through my defenses and quiets my fears.
The way he says "my wife" like he means it.

Suddenly, this arrangement doesn't feel so fake. And I'm no longer sure which of us is playing pretend.

But when love wasn't part of the deal, will saying "I do" turn out to be his biggest regret-or mine?