Building a small town from scratch? Piece of cake. Bossing my big, messy family? Done. Keeping my hands off the hot CFO? Not so easy. Ive brokered billion-dollar deals as the man in charge. I can handle a challenge. But Vanessas not just any challenge. The sexy finance magician has me tripping...

Step one in starting my new life: Don’t fall for my shrink. Scratch that. Step one is settling my daughter in our new small town life. So what if it’s the set of a reality TV show? I agreed to let cameras follow me around, but stay the hell away from my kid. And screw the storyline about a grumpy single dad finding love. I’m here for the fresh start. It’s bad enough I’ve got these sessions with sexy psychologist Mari. Mari and her foul-mouthed parrot and her love of quirky trivia.

I built my billion-dollar business slinging a hammer. Not with a law degree like the rest of my tight-knit family. An entire chain of luxury resorts bears my name. But that’s a cold comfort when the woman I love hates my guts. She should, considering how things ended.

I never dreamed I’d be dressed as a deranged bear the first time I held my daughter. Or even that I’d have a daughter. Navy SEAL life isn’t great for fatherhood. But seeing Jessie with baby Joy hits me like a happy holiday thunderbolt. She’s not sure she trusts me, and who can blame her? Maybe if we’d swapped more than ten words before falling into bed that snowy night, we wouldn’t be strangers.

Only in my world does the family screwup have a police record and three Oscars. And only a screwup like me would be nuts enough to fall for a cop. Not just any cop. Amy’s the police chief in this small town my family built from scratch. We’ve got a reality TV spotlight scanning our every move. No way will the perfect girl next door take a chance on me. I’ve heard she’s got a brother behind bars, so guys with rap sheets are off limits. The thing is, I’ve changed.

I wish I didn’t know how one heartbreak can smash your world to bits. And really I wish I didn’t suspect it’s why there’s an edge to Lana’s sunshine smile. Hell, I wish I didn’t think of Lana at all. I’m busy busting ass to be the best—and yeah, grumpiest—chef around. There’s a reason I keep people at a distance. My evenings blur with butter and basil and helping my brother. Trying to forget how he wound up in a wheelchair. We’ve got our routine, and there’s no room for sweet smiles or blue eyes or… why is it so damn hot in here? The thing is, Lana spins stories as a PR goddess.