It was supposed to be an easy house- and dog-sitting gig while the owner was gone for a month. But when my sportsing landlord comes home unexpectedly, injured and in need of a new arrangement, we end up as accidental roommates instead.

But if Holt Webster, the tall, thick-muscled, square-jawed, broody-eyed rugby player, had told me he played for the Copper Valley Pounders, I would’ve told him that my stepdad bought the team while I was working cruise ships overseas.

And he would’ve noped out of offering me a place to stay because the only thing worse than looking like you’re flirting with the owner’s daughter is looking like you’re hooking up with the owner’s pregnant daughter.

Yes, yes, I’m that woman—the one who accidentally got knocked up, decided to keep the baby, and had to move home because pregnancy and cruise ships aren’t a good match.

And now I’m that woman who doesn’t just look like she’s hooking up with an off-limits player. I actually am hooking up with an off-limits player. But who can blame me? He’s hot. He’s kind. And he’s spending our nights sleeping with his hand on my baby bump.

Claiming us both.

But if my dad finds out, Holt’s gone. And we’ll be…rucked.