*pictures are not mine.

CRAZY LOVE

Book 5 in the Single Dad Playbook series

arrives July 10, 2025

Prologue

Screeching Halt

PENN

February

The sun is just starting to set over the turquoise waters of the Bahamas and I’m trying not to freak out over this ceremony. I’m officiating the wedding of one of my best friends tomorrow—Bowie Fox. I technically married him and Poppy in their hospital room while they were giving birth to their baby, but this is the polished-up, beautiful version. The pressure is on. I’ve gotta get this right.

I try out a few lines under my breath as I stare out at the water, willing it to calm me. “Marriage is like the ocean—vast, mysterious, and full of surprises.” I wince. “Nope. Too deep. Literally.”

“You might want to avoid ocean metaphors unless you’re comparing love to a hurricane…which has been done, I suppose.”

My thoughts halt like a record scratch when I look over and see an impossibly gorgeous woman staring out pensively at the ocean. Her long, black hair cascades down her back and her skin looks bronzed in this light. She’s wearing a white tank top and short white shorts and she is wearing them well.

When her eyes meet mine, she gives me an amused smirk and I get this weird ping in my gut. Like I just went skydiving and lost my stomach.

“Caught me practicing,” I say sheepishly. “I’m marrying my friends tomorrow.”

Her eyebrows lift. “You’re marrying your friends…”

“I mean, I’m officiating…” I tug on my shirt, feeling hot all of a sudden.

“And you’re nervous?” Her gaze drifts over my face and I swallow hard but then try to play it off.

“I-no. Not really. I—” I run my hands through my hair and laugh. “Well, yeah. I am. Words matter, you know? I love my friends and they’re trusting me to set the tone for their wedding…and the rest of their lives. No pressure or anything.”

Her smirk widens into a smile and I’m done. Sign me up. I’m in.

“Well, Preacher Man, I think you’ll be just fine.”

“Preacher Man?” I volley, a grin taking over my entire face.

Damn, she’s pretty.

“Sounds like it fits.” She gives a slight shrug and my eyes drop to her delicate shoulder. Her skin looks so soft and it takes effort to drag my eyes away from her body, but her big brown eyes and pouty lips are oh so alluring, so the payoff is still huge when I do.

“Trust me, I am not…holy.”

There’s a beat where we stare at each other. My eyes drop to her mouth and stay fixated there for a few seconds. God, I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in all my life. Not after just meeting, for Christ’s sake, and honestly…kissing isn’t really my thing. I find kissing way more intimate than sex.

“I have just the thing to help you relax,” she says.

“Oh…really.” I have to say I’m surprised that she’s going there so soon, but you won’t find me complaining.

“Yes, follow me.” She turns and walks toward the resort, turning once to look at me over her shoulder. She smiles when she sees that I’m following, and my stomach does that free-fall again…it’s the weirdest thing.

I’m not sure where this girl is leading me, but I’m beyond caring. I take her hand and let her guide me through the sandy paths of the resort.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask.

“Patience is a virtue,” she teases.

“Virtue is overrated.”

“Says the preacher man.”

I laugh. “Right. Preacher Man. Name’s actually Penn. What’s yours?”

“Addy.”

The path opens up and there’s a secluded section of the beach that wasn’t visible before, and a group of people are stretching.

“What—” I gasp when a group of flamingos move between the people. Some might think they’re beautiful, and I guess they are in an odd, gangly, terrifying way.

“Yoga with flamingos,” Addy announces, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do…ever. “This will help you relax for sure.”

“I assure you it will not,” I say under my breath. Louder, I say, “Yoga with that?” I point to a flamingo that has locked eyes with me, its head tilted as if to say, You lookin’ at me?

She laughs, and fuck me, if my dick doesn’t respond in spite of the flamingo staring me down like a mob boss.

“You’re not scared of flamingos, are you?” she asks.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I back up a step. “That one is looking at me funny.”

She glances at the bird, her grin widening. “You’ll be fine. Look, they’re used to people.” She points at another bird being petted by a guest. That one does look sweeter, far less Al Capone. “Besides, don’t you want to try something new? Live a little?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a cocktail I haven’t tried before…with a gorgeous woman…whose name starts with an A.”

One of her shoulders lifts and she bats her eyelashes. “Aw, thank you.” Her smile deepens and she gives me a pointed look. “Maybe we can have that cocktail after the yoga.”

“Fine,” I mutter. “But if I get pecked to death, I’m haunting you.”

She laughs and I’d appreciate that it sounds like music if I wasn’t worried for my life.

We join the group and I do my best to focus on the instructor’s overly serene voice instead of Capone the flamingo, who seems very interested in my mat. It begins innocently enough—stretching, deep breaths, the usual yoga stuff. But then, as I’m stretched into what the instructor calls Warrior II, Capone decides to move in closer. As in, absolutely no respect for my personal boundaries whatsoever.

“Hey, dude. Back off,” I say between my teeth.

He waddles closer and pecks at my foot.

“Hey!” I yelp.

The bastard stands on my mat, staring me down like I owe him something.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, trying to give it the evil eye.

Addy bursts out laughing. “I think she likes you!”

“There’s no way this one is a female. He’s sizing me up for dinner,” I mutter. When it steps closer, I try to shoo it away. The flamingo responds by flapping its wings and letting out an ear-splitting squawk that startles me so much, I trip over my own feet and fall flat on my back.

The instructor gasps and hurries over when the flamingo’s face dips closer to mine. I hear a camera click from a person nearby and cover my face to avoid being pecked to death. It’s not fun to be under a pileup on the football field by a three-hundred-pound freight train, but this flamingo right now with that sharp, hooked beak that’s deceptively precise and those beady little eyes that scream chaos? That’s a fucking horror show.

Instead of the peck of death, I feel a soft hand on my arm and peek between my hands. Addy is laughing so hard, she’s clutching her side, but with the other hand, she tries to pull me up.

“Okay,” she says between laughing. “Maybe yoga with flamingos isn’t your thing.”

“It’s so not,” I tell her, scrambling to my feet. “Let’s get out of here before he calls for backup.”

We bolt from the beach, and now that I have some distance from the claws of Satan, I can see a little bit of the humor in the situation. We end up at the tiki bar. Addy leans into me, still laughing, her eyes sparkling in the sunset.

I put my arms around her, leaning in to whisper, “We survived. Barely.”

“I’ll buy you a drink to make up for it,” she says softly.

“Oh no. I’m buying you a drink. I need to make sure you stick around long enough for me to recover my dignity.”

She giggles. “It will be hard to get that image of you dominated by the flamingo out of my head, Preacher Man.”

I turn to face her, my hands going to either side of her face, as I dip down, eyes level with hers. “Tell me what I have to do,” I say huskily.

She bites her lower lip to keep from laughing and I struggle to keep from laughing myself, but this close to her, barely a breath between us…it’s intoxicating.

“Give me a new memory,” she whispers.

The air between us is charged. I feel her warmth, her breath mingling with mine, the faintest scent of her perfume. She isn’t just beautiful, she’s magnetic—a force pulling me in until the distance becomes unbearable.

There’s nothing left to do but close the distance between us. It’s a need.

My thumb trails the curve of her jaw and her eyes are steady and unflinching, like she can see straight into the part of me I don’t show anyone.

And just like that, I give in.

When our lips meet, it isn’t fireworks—it’s a detonation. A deep, bone-shaking, soul-rattling detonation that shatters me into pieces and rebuilds me in the same instant. Her lips are so soft, but the kiss isn’t. It’s raw, consuming. It’s a thousand unspoken words all pouring out at once.

Time stops. The noise in the bar falls away. There’s no past, no future, only this moment with her.

She kisses me back with the same abandon I feel. It’s intense, the way we crash into each other with everything in us.

When we finally break apart, my forehead rests against hers, both of us breathing hard.

“That was…the best thing I’ve ever felt,” I say.

“Yeah,” she says breathlessly.

Just then, an annoying sound erupts from my phone. Dammit. My alarm. I’d forgotten I’d even set it, but it’s a good thing or I think I would’ve remained in this stunned stupor for a while.

“I can’t believe this. I’ve gotta go. The rehearsal dinner. Come with me? My friends won’t mind.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Oh, no. I couldn’t.”

“Really, it’ll be okay.” My face falls when she shakes her head. “Okay, meet me afterward? Right here? I’ll be back by nine.”

She lifts her chin, eyes dancing with amusement. “You sure you can pull that off?” 

I smile. “I’m determined.”

She studies me for a second before nodding. “Okay, I’ll be here.”

***

The second I walk in, I spot her. I’m conflicted about leaving Bowie’s rehearsal dinner until I see Addy sitting at a high-top table in a dark corner, twisting the stem of her martini glass between her fingers. She’s the kind of girl who owns the room without even trying.

I walk over, slipping onto the stool next to her. “Told you I’d be here, beautiful.”

She doesn’t look at me right away, just takes a slow sip of her drink. “Right on time too.”

“You thought I wouldn’t show?”

She tilts her head toward me, her lips curving up. “I considered it.”

“You wound me.”

“Do I?” she asks, playfully.

“Deeply.” I place a hand over my heart and lean in. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I never ask women this because that’s a minefield waiting to explode, but I genuinely want to know with her.

Her eyes narrow. 

“Uh-oh.” I laugh when she doesn’t say anything, just studies me. “You’re plotting something. Based on previous experience, when you get that look, it means trouble. No more flamingos tonight.” I lift my hands up.

She exhales dramatically. “Dammit. You catch on way too fast.”

I smirk. “What are you scheming?”

“Not so fast. How was the rehearsal dinner?”

“It was great. Good food. Everyone’s so happy to be here, happy to be together…”

Her nose crinkles up. “I feel bad for taking you away from your friends.”

I shake my head. “We have fun whenever we’re together. You should meet them. Tomorrow?” I ask hopefully.

She grins and gets that mischievous look again.

“So, what were you thinking about when I got here?” I take her hand and thread my fingers in hers. 

She turns in her seat, facing me. “Whether or not I should kiss you again.”

Heat licks up my spine. “And?”

“I mean, the first kiss was good…”

“Good?” I scoff. “Addy, that kiss deserved a standing O.”

She lifts a shoulder. “Eh. Seven out of ten.”

“Seven? Why does that crush my ego into dust?”

She bites her lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, eight.”

“Unbelievable,” I mutter. “You loved it.”

She leans in, close enough that I smell the soft vanilla and coconut scent of her skin. “Maybe you should remind me,” she whispers.

That’s all the invitation I need. 

I kiss her, slow and deep, letting it build. And holy hell, it’s even better than the first time. The way she melts into me after luring me in with her sexy mouth—I’m gone.

She lets out a small, satisfied hum against my lips, and I smile against her mouth. “Still an eight?”

“Nine,” she says, breathless. “But if we keep going, I might consider a ten.”

“Let’s test that theory.”

I stand up and hold out my hand, and she takes it, smiling up at me. I lead her to the elevators, both of us buzzing with anticipation. By the time we reach my room, we barely make it inside before my hands are on her waist, her fingers threading through my hair. It’s ridiculous how fucking good this feels with her.

She presses against me, her breath warm against my jaw. “You always move this fast?” 

I chuckle, brushing my lips against her ear. “I could kiss you all night long and die happy…and no, I do not always work like that.”

Her breath hitches. “You like kissing me?”

“More than I should,” I admit, my voice rough.

She pulls me down for another kiss, and I swear, I could get lost in her mouth forever.

And then—

My phone rings.

I groan against her lips and consider ignoring the call, but when I see Rhodes’ name on the screen, I exhale sharply. “I have to take this.”

She steps back and nods. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”

I answer. “Rhodes?”  

“Hey, man. I haven’t seen you in a while and need a favor. Some of Poppy’s friends had a little too much to drink and Elle and I are going to take them to their rooms. Any chance you could help us handle them? We’re still at the restaurant. It’s like herding elephants over here.”

I crinkle up my face, giving Addy an apologetic look. “Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

When I hang up, I turn to Addy, brushing my fingers along her jaw before kissing her softly. I just can’t resist those lips. She is a taste that leaves me feeling both sated and hungry. I drag myself away and stare at her.

“You’re so beautiful, Addy.”

Her cheeks flame and I can’t stop smiling.

“Don’t move,” I tell her. “I’ll be right back. I need to help wrangle some people back to their hotel rooms.”

She smiles, giving me one more quick kiss. “Hurry back.”

I walk backwards, still staring at her like I’ve been struck by lightning because that’s how I feel. “I promise you, I will be so fast.”

“Go, go.” She laughs.

I grin and bolt out of the door, already desperate to get back to her.

Of course it takes longer than expected. Poppy’s friends are nice and so happy to be on a tropical getaway, but they are hard to finagle drunk. Fifteen minutes stretches into thirty and I’m sweating by the time I reach my door. 

When I walk into my hotel room…she’s gone.