As a surgical resident, my ego is beyond healthy.
So when Daisy, the stubborn and sexy matchmaker, challenges me during night trivia at the local pub, it’s impossible for me to say no.
If I win–she owes me three epic dates where I pull out all the stops to woo her.
If she wins–no dates and I walk home naked.
It’s the summer, what’s an eight-block stroll home in my birthday suit?
Since she’s already smitten with me, this is going to be a breeze.
How can I say no to a sure thing?
Riley’s sizzling looks are nothing compared to his arrogance. His god-complex eclipses his charm.
Forcing him to walk home naked is just too tempting to pass up.
It’s just a friendly bet. But the stakes grow too high when fate keeps shoving him in my path.
I don’t need my matchmaker test to prove that we’re not meant to be, despite what he says.
My heart is still recovering from my last dating disaster. I find love for other people, not myself.
But I’ll get him to take the test anyway. I’ll show him that we’re wrong for each other.
We are 100% incompatible and any attraction is purely physical.
At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
***You’ve met this couple in previous books, but what about their love story? Daisy and Riley might be together in Hot Dad, Snowed In & Set Up and New Year’s with the Single Dad, but find out how they came to be in this hilarious arrogant doctor, stubborn matchmaker romantic comedy. No cheating, alpha male and a big old happily ever after!
“You’re a big personality,” I said. “But no, you’re not annoying, and I do like you.”
His gaze shifted from mine to the flames, and he adjusted his hot dog, dropping it to hover just above the coals.
As hard as I tried, though, I couldn’t keep my eyes off his pants.
It’s been a LONG dry spell, girlie. What’s one night?
What happens in the cabin stays in the cabin?
I reached for my wine.
“Just think about it. If you like me as a friend, liking me as more isn’t too far off, right?” He gave his hot dog an inspection before pulling it out of the fireplace and jerking his chin toward the stack of buns I’d found in the freezer. “Grab me one, please.”
I did as he asked, once again my gut getting knotty as I cupped the hotdog with the bun and slid it off the stick.
I was twenty-eight years old, for crying out loud. I had a thriving business, a condo, a car, my 401K was impressive for my age, and yet I was getting giggly and squirmy at the childish act of cupping his hot dog in my bun. All I wanted to do was laugh.
He thanked me and took the hot dog and bun from me, squirting on the ketchup and mustard before taking a big, manly bite.
“Mmm, you did good picking that bun for me. Nice and soft. Just perfect for my wiener.”
Unable to keep the laughter at bay any longer, I picked up an olive and tossed it at him, hitting him square between the eyes.
“Hey!” In retaliation, he picked up an olive and tossed it at me, but I was ready for him and opened my mouth, catching it like a pro … or an obedient dog. I refused to think too hard about which one I better personified. My brother and I used to play this game with olives, mini marshmallows, peanuts or whatever for hours when we stayed in the cabin.
“You can’t resist the innuendos, can you?” I asked, topping off our wine and chewing my olive.
“I can’t resist them when they make you smile like that or earn me one of those sexy giggles.” He finished his hot dog and washed it down with a sip of wine. “You seriously have the best smile.”
There he went again with the compliments and the irresistible handsomeness.
And don’t forget those pajamas.
I risked another glance at the pants.
“Eyes up here, lady.”
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