Colton Mathews will only see her as his best friend’s little sister for the
rest of their lives. After all, he made that clear the night before she left
for college. But four years later, her brother is getting married and Colt’s
the best man—and guess who is the best man’s last-minute date?
firefighter’s heart or douse this torch for good. When Max—her best friend from
college, who may be carrying a torch of his own—crashes the party, they devise
a plan to make Colt see what he’s missing. But after Colt catches on, he
decides to cook up his own revenge.
Max’s questionable acting methods, an unfortunate trip to jail, and a maniacal
fiancée, what could possibly go right?
“Aw, sweetie.” Max laughed and pulled me in for a hug. I winced as my pounding head made contact with his chest. “Believe me, if we would have slept together, you would remember, even drunk, you would remember.”
“Confident.” He released me. “So are we upset or are we okay?”
“Partners.” He winked. “For life. You and me, we’re a we.” He lifted the coffee to his lips. “Hey, that rhymed, how badass am I, after getting drunk last night?” He nodded his head. “Sharp as a tack.”
The coffee slid out of the cup and onto his hand.
Lots of cursing followed.
“Yeah.” I took the coffee away. “Sharp as something.”
“So.” Max reached behind him and pulled out my diary. “Curious minds want to know, when you drew that picture of the house you and Colton were going to live in once you got married in front of the queen of England, did you purposefully draw the dog without a tail or were you just confused?”
“Give me that!” I lunged for the pink diary. “How the hell did you find it?”
Max held it above his head and took a sip of coffee. “People always hide interesting stuff under their mattresses, though I had you pinned for more of a signed ’N Sync poster, considering all the stupid hearts around JC Chasez’s face on the torn-up poster in your closet.” The freak had gone in my closet too? “This is just as good. Though I have to admit, I’m a bit disappointed that you chose Prince Harry to walk you down the aisle. Do I mean nothing to you?”
“I had a thing for royalty!” I shouted, my headache making a fierce pounding in my temples.
“Mmm.” Max set his coffee down but kept the diary above his head. “One last question.”
“If I answer, will you give it back so I can burn it?”
“I’ll give it back.” He held up his hand. “But burning this would be a crime. It’s like reality TV only worse, I seriously cried real tears and it wasn’t because the story was sad. Oh, and P.S. It took you five years to spell nightmare right, just thought I’d let you know.”
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com