Never sweat the small stuff, they say.
How about when you wake up with a giant stranger showering in your hotel room?
There’s nothing tiny about Brock Winthrope.
He even roars like a lion when he sees me. I scream back. And after narrowly avoiding a murder scene, we’ve got trouble.
He says he’ll fix our reservation blunder since he’s the manager (he’s not).
He thinks I’ll smack his resort with the rotten egg review from hell (I might).
I’ve never seen a man so grumpy groveling his heart out to wow me (it’s working).
Oh, but it gets better.
Brock whisks me away on an amazing “date” and things get heated.
I’m still dreaming about obnoxiously hot kisses under the stars months later when fate strikes.
I wasn’t supposed to see him again.
Not at this dumpster fire marketing job I desperately need.
Not when I crash into him—literally.
Definitely not when I find out he’s the crankyface billionaire CEO signing my checks.
Cue the freaking out.
The stormy glares.
The tension thicker than quicksand.
The hopeless promises to “just do my job” without choking on Mr. Grumpmuffin’s attitude.
What’s worse than one messy date with your radioactive boss?
Expect enemies-to-lovers fireworks! Delightful banter, slow-burn sweetness, plus one office beast who finally learns how to smile for the lady who ignites his world.