Accidentally Matched

Together with my best friends and our unique canine darlings, Sweetpea, Honeypot, and Cupid's Ass?yes, Cupid's Ass?we run a very successful matchmaking company called Leashed to Love.

But now I want to take my skill set to the next level. I want to get clued up and physical in bedroom matters so I can learn tips and tricks for keeping couples together after marriage. Maybe I'll write a book about my horizontal adventures. Except, it doesn't help since I've never done it before.

And that's where these three grumpy ranchers come into play. I dangle land they've been unsuccessful in purchasing for a while now in front of them, and in exchange they'll let me experiment on them and with them. No holds barred. It's the perfect deal.

And love has nothing to do with it.

Inappropriately Matched

There is no way I'm marrying a man my father chooses for me. He wants me to marry someone fitting of our social standing? I think not. I do not want to marry some stuffy heir, so I'm going to do the direct opposite.

Cue three construction workers: Holt Kissinger, Steele Adams, and Ryder MacMurphy. They're building a new block of apartments opposite mine. And maybe I scolded them for waking up the whole neighborhood with their incessant drilling and pounding, but Honeypot, my little fluffball matchmaker, senses some... umm, chemistry between us.

I think on my feet and ask one of them to marry me. They say they come in a package of three. I say I'll take the lot.

Now I get to stick it to my father.

Inconveniently Matched

My family is broke, like we're about to lose our house broke, unless I get my trust fund. The only way I'm getting my trust fund is if I marry the guy my grandmother picks out for me.

Yay me.

Except my grandmother chooses three husbands for me. Why? Because my best friends, and business partners?we run a matchmaking company called Leashed to Love?each have three husbands of their own, and she didn't want me to feel left out.

Double yay me.