Eastshore Isle

Look, there are plenty of things I just learned about the gorgeous, seven-foot-tall perfect specimen of male living next door to me. Karnak can scent everything about me, including those times I thought I was alone in my hot tub and I decided to experiment with different water jet settings. He's really good at finding lost kitties (not a euphemism). In the four years I've lived next door to him, the orc has known—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that I'm his fated Mate. And apparently it's killing him to stay away.

I'm pretty sure there's a rulebook somewhere that says the owner of a successful small-town bakery must be cheerful, friendly, and a little bit curvy, which means I'm nailing it. But my family doesn't see it that way, especially since there's no handsome doctor or lawyer keeping me company. They're visiting Eastshore Isle for our summer celebration, and they're planning to bring me a date to cure my case of singlehood.

I'm a focused and goal-oriented librarian-in-training, so there's no way I'm falling for my himbo roommate, who gives off major golden retriever vibes, right? Right. But dang. Since the moment I started renting Luxor's spare bedroom, I've been plagued with these inconvenient urges...so being mature, responsible adults, we've decided to deal with them. One time. Once, to rid Lux of his innocence. Once, to rid me of these distracting desires to lick him.

My whole life, I've been the perfect daughter: perfect hair, perfect body, perfect grades, perfect career. Of course my mother would choose the perfect fiancé for me! Thank God I wised up in time and dumped the jerk, but maybe I shouldn't have jumped into bed with the first hottie who winked at me. But how was I supposed to resist? Yeah, he's an orc, and he's muscled and tatted and definitely the take-charge kind of guy. Little did I realize, when I snuck out of his bed, that he'd left me with a present.

I'm pretty sure there's rules about an elementary teacher hooking up with a student's parent, but what if I didn't know that's who he was? See, I've spent the last few months getting hot and heavy with this guy on the app MonsterSmash, but we haven't exchanged names. This made our parent-teacher conference a little...awkward.

I've been a single mom for sixteen years, and I know there's no place left in my life for fun. Right? I grew up in the South, where there are three things you're never supposed to ask: A woman her age, a man his salary, and a single mother how the duck she's managing to juggle a job, a mortgage...

It's finally happening! After years of scrimping and saving, I have finally launched my landscaping business from the back of my garden shop. Oh, don't get me wrong—I adore making floral arrangements, helping people figure out their soil's right pH, and sharing a million other gardening tips in my shop . . . but at long last, I've landed the coveted contract to landscape Eastshore Isle's community property, which means I am going to get paid to get really, really dirty!

Every morning I wake up and remind myself I was the one who decided to kick out my horrible ex, and it's my choice to raise my kids alone. This is less comforting than you might think when I'm knee-deep in deadlines, snotty noses, defiant preteens, and desperately in need of some help. I just never expected that help to come in the form of an absolutely delicious, seven-foot-tall, green monster . . . an orc who can make a killer pot roast, organize my junk drawer, and seems to understand exactly what each of the kids needs.

Six years ago, in an effort to avoid an arranged marriage, I walked away from my ruthless father's business empire and built a new life as Eastshore Isle's top realtor. I thought I'd finally left the corporate world—and its power plays—behind. But when his business partner tracks me down, marriage is suddenly back on the table . . . and I'm the prize. To dodge a legally binding nightmare, I turn to the kindest, most talented, most unfairly gorgeous orc I know. Tarkhan needs a mortgage to start his woodworking business. I need a husband on paper. The solution is simple: A contract marriage.