Falling for the Bachelor, an all-new brother’s best friend small town romantic comedy full of heat and laughs from bestselling author Amy Alves is available now!
I'm cursed. Unlucky in love. So pretending to fall in love with my best friend's sister couldn't possibly make it worse.
My avoidance of relationships has two neighboring towns joining forces to find me a girlfriend—one I don’t want.
So when they name me the bachelor in their charity dating show, I have two options: suffer the consequences of bailing or accept help from my best friend’s little sister.
I chose the latter.
Because Olivia Vaughn has a plan.
She suggests a ringer—someone on the inside…someone I trust,that I can choose at the end of the show.
A fake contestant.
It’s crazy. Risky. And undeniably tempting.
We’d have to touch, flirt, kiss.
I could pull her close…that long, auburn hair wrapped up in my fist as I whisper all the dirty thoughts I’ve ever had about her.
Pretending to fall for her may be more dangerous than letting our meddlesome town play matchmaker.
Because if this backfires, it might cost me my best friend, disappoint our families, and reignite feelings for the feisty, hazel-eyed beauty I grew up with.
So while I can’t—shouldn’t—pretend to fall in love with Olivia, I do.
With the hope that fake girlfriends are curse-proof.
Falling for the Bachelor is a steamy, brother's best friend, fake relationship, friends-to-lovers, small town, standalone romantic comedy. It contains plenty of steamy scenes, laughs, and an HEA.
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Excerpt
I’m allowed to fantasize about my brother’s best friend as long as I don’t act on those fantasies. I’m supposed to look like I’m falling in love with him, even if it’s all a lie. I’m his ringer—the fake contestant acting as his relationship safety net—not his real girlfriend. Maybe if I keep repeating that, it’ll sink in.
Sawyer lets himself in the back door as I’m cutting the brownies into squares. Glancing behind me, I take him in. Grey slacks stretch against his thick upper thighs, a belt accentuating his narrow hips, and a crisp white shirt with the cuffs rolled up, roped forearms on display. Dressed-up Sawyer looks good. Really good.
His hair doesn’t appear to have any product but still matches his usual style, longer on the top, falling in soft waves to his brows. The sides and back are a bit shorter but it curls slightly around his ears and the nape of his neck. Sawyer oozes that dreamy boy-next-door vibe. It makes me want to sneak through his window in the middle of the night and surprise him.
“Hey, handsome. All ready for our first date?” I hold up the tray of chocolatey goodness. “Want some sugar to give you a boost for tonight?”
He raises his eyebrows, taking a peek into the pan. “Nah, I shouldn’t. They smell great though.”
I hold up a square with a glare, using it to point at him. “Liar. You don’t even like chocolate. That was a test to see if you were ready for your LoveVine setup tonight. Just be yourself, Sawyer. You are not relationship cursed. All you have to do is get through some conversation, dinner, and whatever couplesactivity the producers arranged. You've got this.”
He grins and reaches for my face. I freeze when his thumb strokes across my bottom lip. I study his face as he brings his finger under my chin and his thumb moves to the center of my lip, pulling it down. Those midnight eyes are locked on my mouth, and then he licks his own bottom lip.
I inhale sharply, my whole body heating up.
“I don’t know when I last felt like myself on a date, Liv,” he admits.
Against all thought—all reason—my tongue pops out and swipes across his thumb. He takes a step closer, his thumb pulling my lip farther down, as a rough sound leaves his throat.
Oh my god. Was that a groan?
Sawyer releases my face suddenly and steps back.
My thighs rub together, trying to ease the ache—the throbbing need that creeps up every time we get close. That first night of the reality matchmaking show, when his hand was on my back, fingers in my hair, lips at my ear, I almost collapsed against him with a whimper of desperation.
He was just pretending, Liv!
Slowly he sucks his thumb into his mouth. “You had some chocolate.”
I lean against the counter, hands gripping the edge, not sure if my legs will give out or if I’ll grab another brownie and smear it all over my body to get the same treatment.
Meet Amy
Amy Alves lives in Alberta, Canada with her husband and two crazy cute kids. She is a romance-obsessed reader, a lover of wine and fuzzy socks, and a loather of laundry. She loves contemporary, paranormal, and rom com romance—her kindle always has a long list of books waiting to be read.
Amy writes contemporary romance with a hint of rom com fun. Tropes you can expect to see are: second chance, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, and fake relationships.
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