After losing his best friend to another guy, the notoriously too-confident Max Emory suddenly feels lost. He may have devastatingly good looks, an abundance of charm, and a claim to one of the biggest hotel empires around, but he has no ambition anymore. So when his fed-up friends decide they’ve had enough of his moping, they sign him up to be the next bachelor on the reality series Love Island. And between his pride and his forged signature on an ironclad contract, Max just can’t say no.
Now he’s stranded in paradise with twenty-four women, one terrifying goat, and Becca, the breathtaking barista who already turned him down back home. The closer Max gets to Becca, the more determined he becomes to win her over. As she gets to know him better, things start heating up. But is Becca really after Max’s heart—or is she after the cash prize she could claim once the cameras stop rolling?
Max completely stole my heart in TCoLC and I was thrilled to read his story. While I knew this book would be funny, it was a little shocking at how much I loved it! It is hands down my favorite comedy written by RVD!
Keeping up with Max was like trying to follow the thought process of a first grader on his first day of school. One minute he’s talking about pencils, the next he’s eating the crayons.
I agree, this book and TCoLC are my absolute favorite RVD comedy books. But, this story had me rolling. I love that Max was on a “dating” show. Having the stories of the different girls was the best. I know when I watch similar shows, I’m always wondering what the “crazies” are going to do next. RVD must have had a blast writing this story and it shows.
I was little skeptical about the dating show in the beginning. I’m not a huge fan of them myself and wasn’t certain how it would all flow. Never have I been so wrong. I could not stop laughing with the all hilarious antics and different scenarios Max finds himself in.
Max was perfect in this story. I never knew what he was going to do or what he was going to say.
“Imagine if Max were actually not trying to act like the world was one giant joke? Yeah, he’d probably be king of the universe.”
Since we are both crazy over Max, it was going to take a special heroine to complete this book. I adored Becca from her first scenes. I was pleasantly surprised how she was the perfect balance for Max. She “gets” him, and I adored that about their relationship.
Becca could hold her own with that crazy boy. The dialogue between these two completely made the book. She is sarcastic and witty and a girl with a goal.
Yes, Becca was outstanding! I loved her interactions with Reid as well. Those two were so funny together. Having the entire gang incorporated into the book was brilliant.
Awesome, and I was officially turning into Max. It was only a matter of time before we had our own nickname, BecMax or something stupid like that”
I was so glad to see the characters from the previous book take a large part in this book. And although there was not a cliffhanger, I can’t wait to get Reid’s story. I’m hoping we get to see him fall hard for a girl very soon…
I’m with you and can’t wait for Reed’s book! I’m hopeful that Jason will have one soon too. I have fallen head over hills for this series. Max is in a heated battle with Nixon (Elite Series) as my all time favorite RVD lead man. We highly recommend this book to anyone looking to laugh out loud!
Life with Max would never be normal. Ever.
Son of a possessed goat. I was screwed. Oh, wait, no, that’s what I would have been doing had my satanic brother not knocked on my door and barged in.
Becca moved slightly, her face planted against my stomach. Her breath hot on my skin. Shit, I was in a bad place, a very bad place. She would be the death of me and the last thing I needed was for Reid to think I was getting all hot and bothered because Hades had eaten another pair of my underwear.
“’Sup, Bro?” I tried to act casual as I placed my hands behind my head and exhaled.
Reid’s eyes narrowed. “You look funny.”
“I just woke up.” I faked a yawn. “You’re no perfect male specimen in the mornings either, my friend.”
“Right.” Reid looked around the room, his eyes wildly searching for something. “Have you seen Becca? I went to her hut to remind her about the morning confessional and also make sure she knew what time her date with you was, but she was gone.”
I shrugged. “Maybe she died.”
Becca pinched me in the ass.
My body jerked.
“Maybe. She. Died.” Reid repeated, his eyes narrowing more and more by the second.
“I was kidding!” I laughed nervously. “She’s probably just . . . swimming. You know.” My throat was drier than the desert. “With the fish.”
“Becca hates fish.”
“She hates sharks,” I corrected. “Fish aren’t sharks. Do you even watch the Discovery Channel when I turn it on?”
“Yeah, she loves swimming, one of her favorite things to do, next to, you know . . .” Me, HA! “Art.”
“Art?” Reid looked confused. “What kind of art does she do?”
I can neither confirm nor deny that Becca was actively squeezing something that should never be squeezed in that way. Ever. And I do mean. Ever. Ever. Ever. “Er . . . she does nude art.”
And the squeeze just got worse. I kicked my feet, hoping to land one on her, but she kept squeezing.
“Nude art?” Reid laughed. “Wow, that’s kind of hot.”
“Everything about Becca’s hot.” I shrugged.
The squeezing stopped. Hey, I’d done something right!
“You really like her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, man, I really do. She’s . . . incredible.”
Was it wrong to be a bit sad at the loss of her hand?
“Hmm.” Reid scratched his head. “Hey, what’s Hades have in his mouth?”
I followed the direction of his gaze and felt my face pale. Becca’s dress. Hades had somehow grabbed it in the middle of the night and was now apparently trying to find the best way to deface it, if the way he was sitting on it was any indication.
“My dress!” I blurted. “I brought one just in case . . .”
“Dude!” Reid held up his hands. “What? Is there something you need to tell me? I mean you’ve always been sort of, like, metro, but . . .”
While trying to think of a great comeback . . . I nearly seized. As what had once been a hand was replaced by something a lot more inviting.
Damn that woman.
Damn that tongue!
“You okay?” Reid got closer to the bed. “You look a little sick.”
“Stop!” I gasped. Holy shit, I didn’t know my name. What was my name?
Reid, most likely sensing my distress, chose that moment to sit, yes, SIT on my bed. The same bed that I planned to purchase and send home and put in the middle of my living room and stare at. I would refer to it as the miracle bed. Because what was taking place? Miracle.
I clenched the sheets in my hand and swallowed as sweat trickled down my face, “No, man, hell.” I trembled. “I’m just . . .” Breathing ragged, I licked my lips. “Not feeling, right . . . shit, right there.”
“What?” Reid’s concern quickly turned to suspicion.
“Er . . .” I shook my head. “I’m going to puke!”
Reid jolted off the bed. “Dude, you know how I feel about puke!”
“Then”—oh look, heaven!—“go away!” I clenched my teeth together, snapping them as my entire body went rigid.
“Fine!” Reid held up his hands. “Just don’t forget about your confessional.”
The door slammed behind him at the exact same time I saw a billion stars give birth to tiny planets. It was also the same time that I saw the secrets to the universe and waved at a unicorn as it floated by me.
I lifted up the sheet. Becca looked at me innocently, then shrugged.
“Can I keep you?” I asked.
“That depends . . .”
“I’ll sell Reid.”
“You don’t have to sell Reid.”
“Really, I don’t mind. He can go live in Alaska for all I care, just tell me I can keep you. I want to freaking wrap you up, put you in my pocket, and never let go. Don’t make me beg.”
“Yeah.” Becca laughed. “You can keep me, but we may have to do something about the goat.”
Hades stomped and then promptly peed on Becca’s dress.
“So naked art, huh?” She winked.
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com