From Puck to F*ck
A Why Choose Romance

I accidentally bought a hockey star at a charity auction.Don’t ask me how—it happened fast. One minute I was sipping champagne, the next I was “dating” Rake Hanson, the league’s grumpiest player.Correction: a musclebound, six-foot-four mistake.Rake Hanson is a walking cliché: too many abs, zero personality, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Not my type. At all.Our chemistry? Frozen.Our date? A disaster.Our marriage? …Yeah, about that.One wild night in Vegas later, I’m suddenly Mrs. Puck-Head.His agent insists we stay married for the season. My sanity insists otherwise.The problem?My fake husband may grunt more than he speaks, but he kisses like he means it — and looks at me like I’m his winning goal.Every time he touches me, I forget why I can’t stand him.Someone save me — before I fall for the grump with the big stick.