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About Melanie Harlow
She is represented by Rebecca Friedman of Friedman Literary.
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I needed a wife--temporarily--in order to inherit the family business.
And she needed a favor--the kind that takes nine months to deliver.
We had it all worked out, from the no-touching policy on our wedding night (her rule) to the no-falling-in-love decree (mine). She’d marry me, I’d give her the means to have the baby she’d always wanted, and one year later we’d amicably part ways with no hassle, no demands, and certainly no regrets.
After all, Bianca DeRossi and I are experts at infuriating one another--we’ve been doing it since we were kids. Trouble is, she grew up gorgeous and feisty, and she still knows exactly how to get under my skin.
And that wedding night? Well, it doesn’t exactly go down hands-free.
Then she moves in with me, and I really start to lose my mind. From her sexy little pout to her wicked sense of humor to those meatball sandwiches she makes just because she knows they’re my favorite . . . I find myself wanting to break every rule we put in place.
Our story was never supposed to end with happily ever after.
But call me crazy, I just might be in love with my wife.
I’m a full-time single dad to three daughters and CFO at Cloverleigh Farms. I don’t have time to fall in love—I’m too busy trying to run a business, keep the red socks out of the white laundry, and get the damn pillowcases on without owing a dollar to the swear jar.
Sure, Frannie Sawyer is beautiful and sweet, but she’s twenty-seven, the boss’s daughter, and my new part-time nanny—which means she’s completely off-limits. It’s bad enough I can’t stop fantasizing about her, what kind of jerk would I be if I acted on the impulse to kiss her?
(Exactly the kind of jerk you’re thinking.)
Actually, I’m worse than that—because I didn’t stop with a kiss, and now I can’t stay away. She makes me feel like myself again. She reminds me what it’s like to want something just for me. She’s everything I ever needed, but nothing I ever imagined.
I’m a former Marine. I should have had the strength to resist her from the start.
But I didn’t. And now I have to choose between the life I want and the life she deserves.
Even if it means giving her up.
The hot single dad next door.
And one accidental sext later, my massive crush on him is no longer a secret.
It’s my own damn fault. I’m thirty years old, for heaven’s sake. I’m a kindergarten teacher and a (reasonably) responsible adult. I should know better than to get tipsy and draft a fake text listing all the dirty things I wish Officer Cole Mitchell would do to me.
I wasn’t supposed to hit send.
He wasn’t supposed to see it.
And he definitely wasn’t supposed to text back telling me to go on . . .
Because after that, things escalate quickly.
Cole is everything I’ve ever wanted. He’s sexy and protective. A devoted father to his little girl. A dedicated cop the whole town adores. The kind of guy you can trust to keep his hands to himself, even when you’re desperately hoping he won’t.
I’m not the girl he thought he’d end up with, but after all this time, I might finally get the chance to say the words I’ve always dreamed of . . . make me yours.
I’m a mechanic, not a hotel manager. I've got enough on my plate trying to keep my shop from going under, my overbearing mother off my back, and my baseball team in contention for the league championship. I don’t have time for a former debutante with zero street smarts and a cash flow problem, even if she is crazy beautiful.
Problem is, she’s stranded in my small town, and I’m hiding a protective streak underneath my broody exterior that runs deep. So I offer her a place to stay and keep my hands to myself.
For exactly one night.
If only she weren't so gorgeous. So funny. So eager to please. She’s a disaster behind the wheel, but she drives me wild without even trying--at work, at home, in the back of my truck . . . I can’t get enough of the way she makes me feel.
But I know better than to think it can last. She wants a fairy tale, and I’m no prince.
So when it comes time for her to leave, there’s nothing I can do but let her go.
No matter how much it hurts to say goodbye.
It had to be, right?
Because Noah McCormick and I have never been anything more than friends. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s never once laid a finger on me. And even though he was a cute lifeguard at 16 and a hotter-than-hell sheriff’s deputy at 34, he's always been that protective guy I could trust to keep his hands to himself. I never wanted to mess with that.
Until I walked in on him getting out of the shower and saw his hard, muscular body totally bare and dripping wet. At that moment I never wanted to mess with anything so badly in my entire life.
I should have covered my eyes. Said I was sorry. At the very least, I could have handed him a towel.
After all, I was only in town for a few days, and he was just doing me a favor by escorting me to my sister’s wedding. It wasn’t a real date.
But I didn’t apologize. And he didn’t cover up.
(Talk about a hot mess.)
After all those years of being just friends, suddenly we’re insatiable.
He’s made it clear he’s not interested in romance. Which is fine with me because
I’ve got a plane ticket back to my real life at the end of the week.
It’s all in fun...or is it?
roof. He said you couldn’t break a leg from a 12-foot jump.
(You can also break a collarbone, which served him right as far as I was
I wish I could say it was the last dare I ever took from him, the last bet
I ever made with him, the last time I ever *trusted* Oliver Ford Pemberton.
But it wasn’t.
Because he had the nerve to grow up gorgeous, charming, and sexy. And as we
got older, the dares only got dirtier—and the betting stakes higher—until
finally, he left me in pieces.
I swore I’d never talk to him again.
But twenty years after I took that flying leap, he’s back in my life,
daring me to risk everything for him: my job, my self-worth, and my heart.
How many chances does true love deserve?
When I got dumped by my stupid fiancé a week before the wedding, my plans involved nothing more than ice cream, a blanket fort, and a bonfire of his possessions.
But my friends convinced me that bitter tastes better drowned in Bordeaux, so I came to Paris for a single-moon.
Then I met him. He's shown me things I’ve never seen before, and I’m not talking about the Louvre.
Is it just the seduction of Paris? Or could this be the real thing?
"Frenched is perfectly paced, elegantly written, and deliciously sexy." -- M. Pierce, bestselling author of the Night Owl trilogy
"Melanie Harlow's contemporary debut is funny, sexy and sweet. Fans of Alice Clayton will love it!" -- Laurelin Paige, NYT bestselling author
Now a top twenty bestseller!
"I dare you not to fall in love with the dreamy and delicious Henry DeSantis. Unbreakable is the perfect second chance romance!" - Ilsa Madden-Mills, Wall Street Journal bestselling author
In hindsight, I should not have had that fifth mimosa at Breakfast with Santa.
Or the sixth, seventh, and eighth.
Even if the mic-drop moment that resulted was worth the looks on my former friends’ faces.
For the sake of my children and my pride, I pack up and head for my childhood home and the small town where I grew up. Cloverleigh Farms would be the perfect place for a fresh start.
Falling for Henry DeSantis wasn’t part of the plan.
Sure, he’s easy on the eyes and hard in the bedroom (also the hallway, the bathtub, and on top of his desk), but things between us are moving too fast, and I’m afraid neither one of us is ready for what it might mean.
But Henry makes me feel beautiful and sexy and wanted and strong—things I haven't felt in years. We understand each other, and when I’m in his arms, I’m tempted to trust again. To love again. To let myself be loved without fear.
But deep down, I’m terrified.
Is this all too much, too soon? Or am I a fool to let a second chance at happily ever after pass me by?
Wicked fastball. Killer instinct. Cocky grin. Full package.
(And believe me, I knew how to score.)
My senior year, I was a first round draft pick with a two-million-dollar signing bonus. Before I could even legally buy myself a beer, I made my Major League debut.
Point is, I was invincible.
Until one day I wasn’t.
After tanking my career—during the World Series, no less—the last thing I want to do is return to my hometown, where every jerk in a ball cap has an opinion about what went wrong with my arm. So when my sister drags me back to town for her wedding, I vow to get in and out of there as quickly as possible.
Then I run into April Sawyer.
In high school we were just friends, but I’d always wanted her, and I’d never forgotten her—the red hair, the incredible smile, the crazy, reckless thing we did in the back of my truck the night we said goodbye. It’s been eighteen years, but one look at her and I feel like my old self again. I can still make her laugh, she can still take me down a notch, and when the chemistry between us explodes, it’s even hotter this time around—and I don’t want it to end.
But just when I think I’m ready to let go of the past and get back in the game, life throws me a curveball I never saw coming.
Sexy, brooding cowboys are fine in the movies, but in real life, I prefer a suit and tie. Proper manners. A close shave.
Jack might be gorgeous, but he’s also scruffy, rugged, and rude. He wants nothing to do with a “rich city girl” like me, and he isn’t afraid to say so.
But I’ve got a PR job to do for his family’s farm, so he’s stuck with me and I’m stuck with him. His glares. His moods. His tight jeans. His muscles.
His huge, hard muscles.
Pretty soon there’s a whole different kind of tension between us, the kind that has me misbehaving in barns, trees, and pickup trucks. I’ve never done anything so out of character—but it feels too good to stop.
And the more I learn about the grieving ex-Army sergeant, the better I understand him. Losing his wife left him broken and bitter and blaming himself. He doesn’t think he deserves a second chance at happiness.
But he’s wrong.
I don’t need to be his first love. If only he’d let me be his last.
As a divorce attorney, he loves to tell me there’s no such thing.
As a wedding planner, I choose to disagree.
We disagree on almost everything, in fact. Everything except James Bond. The only time we really get along is when we’re watching 007 flicks together, and I’ll admit—he has rescued me from a disaster or five. So when one of the baton twirlers from his parade leaves a baby girl at his door with a note that says “I’ll come back for her” and he begs me for help, I can’t turn him down.
But it’s a mistake.
Because watching him with his daughter, I start to see another side of Nate, a side that has my breath coming faster, my body craving his, my heart longing for him to change his mind about love and tell me there’s a chance for us.
I don’t want to be just another girl leaving his apartment in the morning.
I want to be the one he asks to stay.
Tall, dark and handsome suits me just fine, but the cocky grin, know-it-all attitude, and mammoth ego? No thanks. I only hired him so I wouldn’t have to sit at the singles table again. It was just pretend.
He wasn’t supposed to kiss me.
My heart wasn’t supposed to pound.
We weren’t supposed to spend the night together—the hottest night of my life.
One night turns into a snowed-in weekend away, and even the blizzard of the century can’t cool the fire between us. I can’t get enough—of his smile, of his body, of the way he makes me feel.
We’re nothing alike. He’s a daredevil, and I’m a nervous Nellie. He’s a drifter, and I want to put down roots. He’s an opportunist with a checkered past, and I’m a Girl Scout volunteer.
But none of it matters when I’m in his arms.
I know he’s made mistakes. I know his wounds are deep, and he doesn’t trust easily. I know he doesn’t believe he could ever be enough to make me happy, but he could.
All he has to do is stay.