Aurora "Rory" Haven's life is in shambles. Her ex-husband's living with the woman he cheated with, her oldest daughter blames her for the divorce, and she's broke. To make ends meet, she partners with the too-young, way too hot local contractor she has absolutely no business fantasizing about. Nash King is working overtime so he can take over the family business. He doesn't need the distraction of his best friend's sister, but the hot-as-hell, pearl-clutching divorcée barrels her way into his everyday life. He's managed to ignore his attraction to her for a decade. What's another couple months? The summer heat and forced proximity has tempers flaring...and their chemistry sizzling. But Havenbrook's gossip mill is churning full-force, and the last thing Rory needs is everyone speculating over her crush on a man eight years her junior. Except crushing doesn't have anything on what's really going on... What would happen if the townspeople found out paint...

I've slapped my cuffs on Luna Lancaster too many times to count and not a single one was for fun. As the sheriff of Starlight Cove, I shouldn't crave her, but I do. She's chaos, mayhem, and sunshine wrapped up in too-tight yoga pants. The lawbreaker might have the town enamored with her free spirit, but she's a thorn in my side, even if she is the sexiest woman I've ever seen. I want her out of my town and out of my head. Trouble is, she's made it perfectly clear she's not going anywhere. And her spree of minor infractions—who runs a yoga class without a license?—is hitting dangerously close to home. Her latest protest has her chained to a tree on the boundary of my family's resort. The last thing we need is bad press ruining the short tourism season when the resort is already one bad month away from bankruptcy. I'll do whatever it takes to save Starlight Cove. Even if that means handcuffing Luna to my bed.

I've lied to myself for years about being in love with my best friend. Everly Bowman and I don't make sense. She's sunshine personified and I hate everyone. Well, everyone but her. It's easy to pretend like she isn't my whole world. Or it was until she needs a place to stay, and my apartment is her only option. Suddenly, she's everywhere I turn. Even her scent is branded into my sheets. And thanks to our unofficial romance book club, I've also amassed an encyclopedia titled Everly's Pleasure Buttons. Each week, it gets harder to ignore how much I want to make her fantasies come true. Especially when we crawl into my bed every night. But I won't jeopardize what we have for anything, so I'm fine with lying to myself and pretending like I don't dream of calling her mine. At least, I was until I see her with him.