J. S. Cooper
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Cowboys make the best friends, but can they also make the best boyfriends?
Wyatt Hamilton has been my best friend since we were in diapers. He is the yin to my yang, and we’ve always been inseparable. But now I’m trying to break away. I’m ready to find a man who thinks of me as more than his best friend. I’m looking for a boyfriend—heck, a husband! And I’m not going to find him if Wyatt Hamilton is always hanging around me like an overprotective big brother.
He considers me his favorite cowgirl, but I’m looking for a man who wants to make me his woman. But Wyatt isn’t getting the hint that I need my space. I’m doing everything in my power to ensure that he sees that I’m now a woman. Even if that means that we can’t be in each other’s lives as much anymore.
But I never expected him to react in the way that he did. I never expected to find out that my best friend wasn’t just a cowboy, but a confident, sexy alpha male as well.
Au gars impoli de l'appartement cinq,
Je suis contente que tu sois heureux d'avoir emménagé dans un nouvel appartement, mais non :
Je ne veux pas prendre une bière avec toi.
Je ne veux pas faire une soirée pyjama à poil.
Je ne veux pas te préparer le petit-déjeuner, le déjeuner ou le dîner, et peu importe le nombre de lap dance que tu me promets.
Je n'ai pas besoin que tu me fasses la sérénade à travers les murs à 1 heure du matin.
Et non, je n'ai pas envie que tu m’emmènes à un rendez-vous.
P.S. Et non, je ne veux pas savoir toutes les façons que tu as de grogner pendant les moments intimes. Comment est-ce que ça peut même exister ?
P. P. S. Aussi, tu ne me trouveras plus jamais nue dans ton salon.
Alors s'il te plaît, arrête de laisser des paquets de lingerie sur mon paillasson.
They were all in my bed last night.
Well, shame was there this morning.
My asshole roommate up and moved out and rented her “room” to some guy her brother’s coworker’s cousin “knows really well.” The aforementioned roommate thinks we’ll get on like a house on fire. I tell her I don’t think anything related to fire is a good thing. Especially as this guy and I will now quite literally be sharing the same room, with a divider for “privacy.”
Sounds bad, right? Well, it gets worse.
Ethan Huntington is the most annoying, frustrating know-it-all, pompous jerk I’ve ever met. I did try to be open and ask him about himself when he moved in. But his responses consisted of, “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” Yeah, okay. Cue major eye rolls as I walked away from him. It only made me angrier when I heard him laughing as I slammed the door as if he’d gotten the last laugh.
He thinks he’s God’s gift to women just because he’s hot. I can’t lie: I’ve seen him without his shirt, and let’s just say he got more than my heart racing. But that doesn’t mean I’ll succumb to him. No way.
Well, that was the plan. Until that night. When we decided to play a few rounds of cards and we drank way too much. Sure, we had one night. But that’s all it’s going to be. I’m not going to let my one-night mistake stop me from going out and meeting Mr. Right—even if Ethan is still living with me and I can’t get him out of my mind.
And then the first letter arrived and changed everything. Maybe that one-night mistake was just the beginning of something really special.
An enemies to lovers boss romance
During the day, I work for Dylan McAllister, the hunky billionaire who became CEO of his own company at thirty. He may be one of the hottest men I’ve ever met in my life, but he’s also the boss from hell. He has dazzling blue eyes that pierce your soul and freeze your heart. And he’s a known womanizer.
I call him AB to my friends—Asshole Boss. He’s grumpy, demanding, and rude. And that’s on a good day. He’s definitely the worst boss ever.
The only reason I’m still his secretary is because I have debt up to my eyeballs thanks to student loans and an ex that conned me into letting him use my credit cards. I’m counting down the days until I can quit and tell him to get his own coffee and lobster rolls. My calendar says that between both my jobs, I only need to work for him for three more months.
You see, Mr. McAllister has no idea that his “mousey little secretary” has a night job just so I can quit as soon as possible.
That is, until I end up at a bachelor party for his brother.
And then the real drama begins … because Mr. McAllister can’t seem to get over the fact that his boring secretary also pops out of cakes.
You might be my brother’s best friend, but I find you to be insufferable, cocky, arrogant, immature, and totally annoying. You are not God’s gift to women and certainly not a gift to me. No, I don’t need you to wrap yourself in a bow. And even if you did, I would not be unwrapping it. I have no interest in seeing or touching your six pack and no, I don’t need you to teach me the hidden lessons of the Kama Sutra. Go and find another woman to bother and flirt with. I am not interested at all. Not even a little bit.
I have seven words for you. That’s not what you said last night.
You have the most amazing hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. And the pinkest lips. They are what my friends and I would call “Insta-Kissable”. The things I could do to those lips. Your kids also look cute. They look like monsters, but also cute. You are single right? Or are you one of those creeps that just doesn’t wear a ring? You could be on the ‘bangable dad’ list. If such a list existed. I may or may not be a little tipsy as I write this. Thanks for nothing Captain Morgan. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that when you’re in the veggie aisle at the store, you shouldn’t just grab potatoes and melons from someone else’s cart.
Your half Secret Admirer Nellie
P.S. If you want to know more, text me at the number on the back of this envelope.
To Nellie (whose name is not a secret),
First off, I’m not a creep. I am not married. I’m glad to hear I’m a bangable dad. I’m assuming that means you think I’m hot as well. I wish you would have handed me this note so I could have seen who you were, so I’d know if you had “insta-kissable” lips or “psycho” eyes. I don’t know why I’m texting this message back to you. Maybe a little bit of curiosity. Though they do say curiosity killed the cat. Do you also have kids? Mine are a handful, but I love them. Send me a photo?
The Single Dad in the Store
P.S. My name is Steele
To Mr. Tate Howard,
You are quite possibly the most infuriating, annoying and grumpy man I’ve ever met in my life. I know you think that you’re God’s gift to women, but I have a secret to let you in on: you’re not. You’re God’s gift to yourself. Get over your wanna-be cool surfer self and grow up. I thought it was time that someone addressed your big head and told you straight to your face that you're not all that. Just because you have an Ivy league education doesn’t mean you’re the smartest man in the world. In fact, I’m not even sure if you would have gotten in if you didn’t have rich parents. Yes, I went there. Every woman doesn’t want to sleep with you and I’m sure you’re not even good in bed. And I’m someone that would know.
Your Secret Not Admirer
City girl in Montana looking for her Romeo…
Sounds like the start of a Hallmark movie, right? Well, it would if they had movies about idiot women flying across the country to marry a man they’d never met.
Yup, that’s what I did. I responded to an ad in a random newspaper that I found on the train. And now I’m trying to find Horseshoe Ranch so that I can marry some cowboy I’ve never even seen. And no, this isn’t the 1800’s. I’m just desperate.
To make matters worse, the cowboy doesn’t even know I’m coming. His mom and dad arranged it all. I’m going is because I have $100 to my name and an old mafia boyfriend after me. I figured life couldn’t get any worse in Montana.
I was wrong.
In my excitement, I left the address and phone number for the ranch at home, so now I’m here in Montana and I have no idea where I’m supposed to go. So I took a rented a car and stopped at a local bar to ask for directions.
And that’s when my problems really started.
Last night was a mistake. A big mistake. Or should I say small? I don’t want to hurt your ego. I should have listened to your sister. You’re insufferable and rude and far too cocky.
Don’t worry. I won’t be telling anyone what happened because as far as I’m concerned it never did. Please stop calling me. I do not need to come and collect my bra from you. Or the t-shirt you lent me to sleep in when I got cold. And no, that one act doesn’t make you a gentleman. Far from it.
Also, I do not need to have your smell near me to fall asleep. In fact, your shirt does the opposite. It gives me nightmares.
P.S. No, I do not want a repeat of last night at my office. I don’t care if that’s your fantasy or not. Stop texting me your fantasies, by the way.
P.P.S. The texts I sent you this morning were drunk texts. I was still hungover. Do not construe them as anything else.
P.P.P.S. Could you have given me any more love bites? There was no need to “mark your territory” because I am not yours!
To my tent mate,
I am only going to say this once. I am not interested in you. I will not be sharing a sleeping bag with you. I will not be asking you to
keep me warm with your 'hot body'. Who calls their own body
hot by the way? I will not be doing a belly dance for you in the middle of the night and I definitely won’t be making you hot chocolate. You’ll be lucky if I even alert you to a bear, so don’t push your luck. I’m going to be 100% honest with you. I’m not interested and have no desire to see you again after this trip.
P.S. Not if you were the last man on earth
They say that no good deed goes unpunished and they are surely right.
I agreed to go on a camping trip with my best friend and her new boyfriend, Finn, but I never agreed to share a tent with Finn's best friend, Brody.
Brody is a pompous full of himself jock. He thinks he rules the world because he's some hot shot baseball player, but the jokes on him because I don't even watch sports. I just need to get past this weekend without killing him and then I never have to deal with his arrogant ass again.
Liam Montgomery, forty, rich, cocky, wears a rolex, likes expensive whiskey, completely out of my league. He was not who I would have chosen to have gone on a blind date with. Just because he was gorgeous didn’t mean he would make a good boyfriend. Plus he was way too old for me. That didn’t stop me from flirting with him though. Or from spending one very long exciting night with him. I’m not going to tell anyone about that night. Ironically, it turned out that Liam hadn’t even been my intended date. Oops!
Unfortunately for me, hot mess Emily, the biggest shock of my life was still to come. For while Liam and I should never have been, he’s not about to leave my life quite that easily. You see I’m celebrating my dad’s retirement with my folks and Liam is also there. Only this time, he’s not alone.