⛰️ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 ➱ BAD BOY ERA is an all-new grumpy x sunshine, best friend’s brother romance by Amy Daws, sure to hit you in the feels and make you laugh out loud!

 HAPPY RELEASE DAY TO @amydawsauthor! 

BAD BOY ERA is an all-new grumpy x sunshine, best friend’s brother romance, sure to hit you in the feels and make you laugh out loud! And it’s out today!!

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Rule #1 on the Everly Fletcher Matchmaking Manifesto…Never fall for your best friend’s grumpy brother.

Everly is the matchmaking mastermind of her family, but her own love life is a bit of a flop.

Back from four years in Dublin, she’s ready for a quiet summer on Fletcher Mountain helping launch her aunt’s animal rescue center—until Conri “Wolf” Reilly shows up.

Wolf is her college roommate’s infuriating twin brother. He’s brooding, Irish, and college rugby’s resident bad boy with thighs that could crack a watermelon.

His red card reputation has trashed his rugby prospects…until a training camp in Denver comes calling. As a favor, Everly reluctantly gets Wolf a place to stay if he volunteers at the rescue center.

Now Everly finds herself working and living next door to the Irish tattooed grump who treats her like a nuisance—but looks at her like he could press her up against a hay bale until they forget their own names.

Wolf swore he came to America to fix his image, not fall for his sister’s best friend, but the more time he spends with Everly, the harder it is to keep his distance.

Perhaps Everly’s in her bad boy era…or maybe Fletcher Mountain might has its own matchmaking plans.

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EXCERPTS:

 

“Making sandwiches is arguably a soft-launch boyfriend move, Wolf. Are you my boyfriend?”

The Irish rugby player’s face instantly turns into the bug-eyed emoji.

I roll my eyes. “Relax, I know you’re not my boyfriend, and I hate to be that girl, but like . . . what are we? Are we dating? A situationship? Friends with benefits? Sum this up for me because I like my rules, and I don’t know what kind of guidebook to go off for all this.”

I gesture to his whole body because it’s a lot. He’s six foot five, shirtless, and standing there like a fantasy brought to life. And he told me mere hours ago he wanted to kiss me. Like for real-real. And then we did kiss. Like for real-real. I need to know what this is.

“Okay . . .” Wolf replies, his brows furrowed in confusion as his eyes drift from my face to my hair. “Did you lose a fight with a Christmas tree?”

“What?”

He reaches forward, radiating his body heat on me as he plucks a twig out of my tangled hair. Great. I’ve stormed in here asking the cliché question “what are we?” while looking like Bigfoot’s unit.

Meanwhile, he is fresh out of bed and looking like one of those Calvin Klein ads.

“I hiked over here through the woods so no one would see me,” I grumble petulantly, still bitter about how hot he looks.

Wolf’s lips twitch like he’s fighting back a smile. “God, you’re a lot.”

 

“Tell you what,” I state, taking a step closer to my best friend’s brother. “Why don’t we both go in there and just do our best to have fun.” I tilt my head to offer him a coy smile. “We can try to be cool and see if anyone notices.”

The corner of Wolf’s mouth twitches as he fights back a smile and says in that hot Irish accent of his, “You’re not even close to cool.”

“I can be cool.” I hold my jacket up to him. “A motorcycle jacket is like . . . really cool.”

He chuckles softly, and his smile falls as his gaze sweeps over my body. “You’re stunning tonight, Stretch.”

Goose bumps erupt over my skin as I fight the outward reaction attempting to break free from my body. He’s right. I’m not close to cool. Because cool people don’t want to squeal and skip down the street the minute a hot boy compliments them.

I shrug casually. “That’s nice to hear because I usually veer on the side of cringe over cool, even with my hot jacket.”

My breath hitches when I realize he’s taken a step closer to me, his eyes glittering in the darkness. “Cringe is hotter than cool because at least you’re trying.”

I force myself to take in oxygen. Deep breaths. Deep breaths are required when you’re making word mountains out of word molehills. Those were just words. Silly words coming out of his mouth. They don’t mean anything. Even if they are quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

His smile is faint, but it’s there, so I force a wobbly smile back. “Well, let’s go into this party and both be cringe together, then.”

I turn on my heel and drape my jacket over my shoulders as I struggle to walk straight and show no signs of the girlie party going on between my legs.

Cringe is hotter than cool.

Weirdest hot words I’ve ever heard, but said in that Irish accent of his, dang, they were effective.

 

“What do you need from me? What can I do?” my best friend’s brother asks in his thick Irish accent.

“I don’t know.” I inhale a trembling breath as the girls I hated from high school begin moving toward us, my heart hammering in my chest. “I just . . . I went to Dublin to get away from them, from everything. From feeling like a pathetic loser. And now I’m back, and literally nothing has changed. I cut my hair, like that was somehow going to make me look like a new person. But I’m not. I’m not. I’m still just me. This over-the-top nuisance who all of them only pretended to like.”

“Let’s bugger off, then,” Wolf grumbles under his breath.

“No, I’m not leaving,” I snap, my chin jutting out defiantly. “I’m going to face those jerks and not let them think they still have power over me.” An idea strikes me, and I reach up to grab Wolf by the shoulders. “I know what you can do!”

“Anything,” he whispers, and I can’t help but jerk my head back at the desperate look on his face.

I blink and refocus when I ask straight up, “Will you be my boyfriend?”

“What?” Wolf’s eyes flare with horror that makes me want to cry or laugh. See? Pathetic.

“Just for pretend so I don’t look like the same old Everly they messed with,” I add with urgency. “Will you do that? Just for an hour. Then we can get out of here, and I will owe you the most massive favor ever. Please, please, please?”

A deep grumble vibrates in his chest, but he nods stiffly.

“Thank you, I love you, thank you.” I grab his arm and yank him around to stand beside me just as the mean girls close in.

 

Uncles

 “So, what exactly are your intentions with our niece, then?” Calder tilts his head curiously.

That question brings me pause because a lot has gone down today. I got a call from my coach that an Irish team might want me, my sister showed up unexpectedly, and I kissed my girl in front of her whole family.

There are a lot of unknown variables at play here, which means I should dodge this question. Laugh it off or mutter something generic. That would be the smart thing to do. But the words don’t come out that way. Instead, the truth slips loose before I can stop it.

“I’m trying not to fall in love with her, if you really want to know. And I’m doing a crap job of it.”

All three pairs of eyes bore into me, and I hear a goat bleat from back inside the barn like it’s eavesdropping on this whole conversation.

Everly’s three uncles stare back at me. Wyatt shifts his axe, his jaw working. Calder studies me like he’s weighing every word. Luke just lets out a low whistle.

“You sure about that?” Calder asks finally.

“Sure about what?”

“Falling for our niece. Girl’s got a big heart for everyone else, but she keeps her own locked up pretty tight.”

“I’m aware,” I admit, and my chest tightens with fear because I don’t even know where Everly’s head is at with all of this either. I shrug helplessly. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure I have a choice in the matter. Just like that poker night with you guys, I’m all in, I think.”

The silence stretches again. Then Calder finally cracks a grin. “Well, Wyatt, maybe you don’t need your axe after all.”

 

 

Run

“You lost, love?” My Irish accent is thick as my voice comes out low and rough, my attraction completely taking over.

But my sister’s best friend doesn’t turn around. “No,” she says softly, her lips parted with anticipation. “But I think someone’s following me.”

My pulse kicks hard as I stalk closer, slow, deliberate, my boots loud in the quiet forest. She exhales like she’s been holding her breath for me, and I can almost smell her perfume from here.

“Maybe you should run,” I murmur, sucking in a deep breath to prepare myself to chase if she takes off.

She turns around to face me, her curves illuminated in the moonlight. My mouth waters at the sight of her.

“Maybe I want to be caught,” she croaks, her voice as breathy as mine.

My control snaps, and in a flash, she’s in my arms, legs wrapped tight around my waist, our lips colliding like two starved animals.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Number 1 Amazon and USA Today bestselling author Amy Daws writes spicy love stories that take place in America, as well as across the pond. She's been known to pen her steamy novels in a tire shop waiting room and that experience inspired her rom-com Wait With Me that was turned into a feature film on Passionflix. When Amy is not writing, she’s likely making charcuterie boards from her home in South Dakota where she lives with her daughter and husband.

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