Every morning when my library opens, there’s a line around the block, the ladies flocking to me in need of their next book boyfriend. I’m that dude. The one who knows his way around the romance section. And if you think that hasn’t gotten me plenty of action over the years, you’d be wrong.
But I made a slight miscalculation at work, and now my reputation has my job in danger. If I can’t prove to my boss that I’m more than a playboy who recommends romance in the hopes of getting some hanky panky in the stacks, I’m headed for the unemployment line.
Enter Parker Elliott. She rocks a mean guitar, she has no idea how sexy she is, and she’s in need of a temporary fake boyfriend.
Best of all? She doesn’t have a library card. I couldn’t have found a better fake fiancee if I’d written her myself.
Contains mature themes.