Rule number one for a professional matchmaker? Don't fall in love with your client. I screwed that up when I fell for my best friend, Reid Fortino. He's gorgeous, successful, and sexy as hell. I figured it would be easy to find him a match—and save the family business at the same time. But the more time I spend attempting to find the perfect girl, the more I realize how much I want him for my own. What's the harm if we give in for just one night? I should have known that would never be enough. Now I'm on the verge of losing my job and my heart. We were an imperfect match from the start, but I don't know how to let him go.

Twenty-eight year old Coco Thomas knows the recipe for disaster: 1) Agree to plan last-minute engagement blowout for spoiled Mafia princess before you realize her choice of caterer is Nick Lupo, a despicably gorgeous young chef with a hot new restaurant in town, a reality TV show victory, and a romantic past with you—one that did not end well. 2) Strike a deal with Nick in which you agree to spend a weekend with him in exchange for his services, under the strict conditions there will be no talking about the past, no second chances, and definitely no sex. 3) Violate all three conditions within 24 hours and spend two glorious days remembering what made you fall for the sexy, egotistical bastard in the first place, and why it hurt so much when he broke your heart. Add one road trip, plenty of good scotch, and endless spoonfuls of chocolate cake batter drizzled over your body and licked off inch by oh-my-God-yes-right-there inch, then just admit it. You’re totally FORKED.

I wasn’t looking for Derek Wolfe. I wasn’t looking for anybody. All I wanted was to start a new life in America. But when I found myself stranded here with no place to go, he came to my rescue, offering me a place to stay. He’s smart, successful, and sexy as hell—I can barely sleep knowing he’s right down the hall. And when the chemistry between us explodes one night with fierce, fiery passion, it’s hard to deny there’s something real there. But he does. He says he was drunk. He says it was a one-time thing. He says he’s not into guys and what we did meant nothing. He’s lying. Because it happened again, and again, and again. And it’s better every time. I know we could be good together, and I want the chance to try, but I’m done hiding. If he’s not strong enough to admit the truth, I’ll have to be strong enough to walk away.