Five hockey players, a cabin in the woods...and little old me, Winnie Berlin. Sounds like the start of a fantasy, right? But it's not. It's my reality. It all started when I got lost in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. A wicked thunderstorm sent my car mud sliding into a ditch, and for a girl whose survival skills involve finding the nearest Starbucks, I was in deep trouble. Forced to abandon my car in search of help, I stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

With wedding planning underway and a short timeline, my best friend, Lia, has recruited me to help her battle the snarly beast that is Mrs. Beaver. Not scared at all, I accept the challenge as her man-in-waiting--aka, man of honor--and take matters into my own hands. The only problem is, with every second we draw closer to the wedding, I'm starting to see my best girl in a different light. She's always been beautiful to me, but now . . . I find myself staring a touch too long. My hand lingering for one more minute. And when she's upset? Allowing her to sleep in my bed.

After failing my last semester of grad school, I decided to come back to my hometown and wallow in my boyfriend’s sympathetic arms. Instead, he proceeded to dump me...for being boring! Now, I'm not typically a spiteful person, but there's only so much I can take. Hence why I’m holding the box of his most cherished possessions...stolen possessions no less!

Am I friends with JP Cane? Ha! That's laughable. Besides the fact that he’s adopted some far-fetched notion from the movie When Harry Met Sally that says men and women can't be friends and work together, it’s safe to say we're not friends. He's annoyingly loud, obnoxiously handsome, and has made an art out of poking all my hot buttons...multiple times a day. So you can imagine how disgruntled I am when I not only have to fly to San Francisco with him for work, but stay in the same penthouse. Yup, we're sharing the same air, 24-7. We're talking full-fledged working roommates.

The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. My meet cute (well, not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me.

The Brentwood Boys have come together in a three-book audio collection for the first time ever! More than 30 hours of delicious baseball players brought to you by your favorite narrators including Sebastian York, Savannah Peachwood, Stephen Dexter, Rock Engle, Felicity Monroe, and Maxine Mitchell.

He proposed . . . and I said yes. Normally a jovial occasion for a couple in love, but this proposal has a very different feel. Because the man that I'll be calling my husband blew into town with one thing on his mind . . . to make my life a living nightmare. So why did I say yes? Well, because we both need something from each other. Namely, I want the farm land he currently owns, and he needs a wife in order to inherit his family cabin in his grandfather’s will. So as he so eloquently put it, my hand, for his land.

Ryot Bisley is my husband. Yes, the former third baseman for the Chicago Rebels and absolute heartthrob of the Windy City. That Ryot Bisley. The first time I ran into him, he was grumpy, a horrific host, and left me on his sofa with nothing but a nylon baseball flag to use as a blanket.

I’m the face of professional bull riding—the golden boy. Or at least I was, until it all blew up in my face. Now my agent says I have to clean up my image, so I’m stuck with his ball-busting daughter for the rest of the season as my “full-time supervision.”

Tristan Stiles is the bane of my existence. He never wears a shirt. We can’t seem to stop fighting. He’s an arrogant playboy with a filthy reputation. Sure, I had a crush on him when I was fourteen but that was a long time ago. I know better than to trust him. I just need to survive long enough to find a new job and get a new place. And not accidentally let Tristan show me exactly how well-deserved his reputation is.

“Give me a second chance, babe . . . and I’ll blow your mind.” Monroe doesn’t know why she answers the text that’s obviously meant for someone else. Or why she keeps answering. Maybe it’s because she’s all alone in a big city and in desperate need of a lifeline. Or maybe it’s because each exchange leaves her intrigued and more than a little turned on. Still, Monroe never would’ve snarked back if she’d known she was talking to the “Golden Boy” of the Dallas Knights.

If I had known how irrevocably my life was about to change, I would have walked the other way after talking to my coach. I should have taken any other route out of the Toronto Terror head office. But I didn’t and now–everything is different. At first I didn’t recognize the woman doing a victory dance down the hall when she thought no one was watching. Until she turned around. And that beautiful smile was aimed at me.

As the most hated player in baseball, I had two options: either clean up my image, or pack my bags. Being traded wasn't an option which only meant one thing, I had to become compliant. That's how I found myself sharing a small bistro table with Kate Chapman, the Chicago Bobbies newest PR Manager. Devastatingly beautiful, vastly intelligent, and incredibly cunning, she knows exactly how to handle my grumpy demeanor. It was supposed to be simple. Book some PR events, show up, smile for the camera, and be done. But one massive mistake on my end sends me into the trenches with Kate.

I got the dreaded phone call, the one every baseball player hopes and prays never comes. I was traded - yeah, that phone call - traded from my longtime team of over 10 years to not just any team...to my childhood rivals, the Chicago Rebels. I was completely and utterly screwed, right? Wrong. The trade was the least of my concerns. I met a girl, Natalie. She was perfect, but I swore I would never get involved with anyone during the season. It was too complicated. But can you believe I had zero restraint when it came to this girl?

Breaking news: The bad boy of baseball, Maddox Paige, is totally and utterly whipped. Okay, that might not be the headline in the newspaper this morning, but it's the reality of my current situation. It all started a month ago when I received a call from my best friend, Kinsley. She’d gotten a new job in Chicago and needed a place to stay. I've known the girl since I was five, so I figured there wouldn't be any harm in having her stay at my place for a while. Ha! Total disaster.