Roosevelt Ranch

I slept with the wrong twin.

And all I got for it in return was a broken heart.

Oh yeah, and a baby on the way—there was that, too.

But I’m determined to make it on my own. I don’t need a man, thank you very much. Not rich, charismatic, and decidedly flighty Rex Roosevelt, and especially not his twin brother, Justin.

The trouble was, Justin refused to leave me be. And deep down, I don’t want to avoid him.

Deep down, I want to be even closer.

Heartbreak at Roosevelt Ranch

I had it all. Two beautiful children. A gainfully employed husband. A successful food blog.

The only thing missing from my life was . . . heat.

And I wanted to live. To live loudly and without fear.

But something was happening with Rob. Had he fallen out of love with me? Had he found someone else? Was I not—Sigh.

Was I not enough?

Collision at Roosevelt Ranch

It began with a collision.

Not in the sense of souls colliding or even stars aligning, but in a real-life, totally her fault, bumpers-crunching, frames-bending, airbags-deploying crash.

Haley. Oh Haley.

Why was she such a mess?

Regret at Roosevelt Ranch

Henry Miller was nobody.

He used to be an up-and-coming chef in New York City, training under one of the most famous celebrity chefs in the world, with a gorgeous fiancé at his side. But that had been five years before.

Then his ex, Isabella, showed up in town with a new fiancé in tow.

Then he found out why she had left. And . . . it changed everything.

Desire at Roosevelt Ranch

Rex Roosevelt doesn’t believe in love.

He believes in women, in sex, and in avoiding any and all types of responsibility.

He also definitely doesn’t believe in is playing the white knight by rescuing women . . . but he’d saved Tilly. She’d needed rescuing and even though Rex didn’t know the first damned thing about being a white knight, he’d helped her.

And then?

Well, she made him feel something he’d never thought his cold, dead heart would ever feel again.

Love.

Christmas at Roosevelt Ranch

Ah. Christmas.

The most miserable time of the year.

Elizabeth hated it. She had too much work to do to stop and hang lights or wrap presents or waste time beneath the mistletoe.

Or maybe she hated it—and especially the mistletoe—because she didn’t have anyone to kiss.

Yeah, maybe that, too.

But the she was derailed by a flat tire, a broken doorknob, and . . . an extremely handsome mechanic.

And perhaps the best laid plans were made to be broken, especially when this Christmas might prove to warm even her Scroogey heart.