One guest house. One week. One slow-burn disaster waiting to happen.
Dean Whitaker has zero interest in weddings, fairy lights, or the perky woman currently turning his guest house into a scented-candle crime scene.
He’s a divorce attorney. He thrives on prenups, logic, and not getting glitter on his suits.
Poppy Monroe is a wedding planner with a checklist for everything—except how to survive living next door to a hot, brooding, tightly wound lawyer—aka the groom’s brother.
They’re opposites in every way—except for the undeniable chemistry neither of them wants to talk about.
Their mission: survive one week of wedding chaos.
Her vibe: sunshine and glitter pens.
His vibe: whiskey and restraint.
Opposites attract. Then they combust.
Dean Whitaker has zero interest in weddings, fairy lights, or the perky woman currently turning his guest house into a scented-candle crime scene.
He’s a divorce attorney. He thrives on prenups, logic, and not getting glitter on his suits.
Poppy Monroe is a wedding planner with a checklist for everything—except how to survive living next door to a hot, brooding, tightly wound lawyer—aka the groom’s brother.
They’re opposites in every way—except for the undeniable chemistry neither of them wants to talk about.
Their mission: survive one week of wedding chaos.
Her vibe: sunshine and glitter pens.
His vibe: whiskey and restraint.
Opposites attract. Then they combust.