Bossy Seattle Suits

Strange men do funny things when you score the last cinnamon roll. Sometimes he rages about the high crime of jacking his precious pastry. Sometimes he offers you ludicrous bribes to buy it back. And sometimes—after shattering your faith in humanity—you find out he's your new boss. I'm not laughing.

It was one little dare with razor-sharp teeth—work for him. Yes, he's a fire-breathing grump and gazillionaire bachelor. Yes, I just gave him an ego check he'll never forget. Yes, he's still offering me the job dreams are made of. But Cole Lancaster is the stuff of bossy nightmares. Too handsome for real life. Big Coffee kingpin. Guarded papa bear. His precious daughter is the only reason he ever stops grumping for five seconds. I'm sure I can deal with his scowls and cutting glances for one huge payday. Only, sometimes your best assumptions are dead wrong.

There's nothing tiny about Brock Winthrope. He even roars like a lion when he sees me. I scream back. And after narrowly avoiding a murder scene, we've got trouble. He says he'll fix our reservation blunder since he's the manager (he's not). He thinks I'll smack his resort with the rotten-egg review from hell (I might). I've never seen a man so grumpy groveling his heart out to wow me (it's working). Oh, but it gets better. Brock whisks me away on an amazing “date”, and things get heated.

Grandma left me the life of my dreams with one ginormous catch. Miles flipping Cromwell. Workaholic king of grumps. Control freak. Older billionaire next door. We didn't exactly hit it off when he showed up with an offer to buy my land and my hyperactive dogs yanked my robe open right in front of him. I wish running him off my porch totally mortified was the worst part. But reopening Washington's cutest inn gets crazy expensive. When Seattle's hottest cranky-face bachelor comes knocking again, he has me cornered. This time with a high-paid job offer I can't refuse.

Trust me, I'm not falling for a human porcupine. I don't do older men with baggage a mile long. Billionaires? Nope, I'm Miss Independence, thank you very much. And when a man with the emotional intelligence of a cucumber decides to boss me around? Hoo boy. Shepherd Foster and I are utterly incompatible. He still can't get over the day we met when I questioned Mr. High and Mighty's judgment. He's also holding the key—and the moolah—to my animal rescue dreams. I'm only putting up with this torture for the cute otters, I swear.