Becker Brothers

Noah Becker is nothing but trouble. That's what Mama told me when I was a kid, kicking his pew in church and giggling at the games we'd play. It's what the town said when his father died and the Becker brothers went wild. And it's on repeat in my mind the day I walk into the whiskey distillery where he works to buy a wedding gift for my fiancé.

I swore I would never work at the whiskey distillery with my last name on it, that I would never be a part of my father's legacy. But when I graduated with my art degree and realized there were no jobs, the devil appeared, and I sold my soul, agreeing to work in the family business if he'd give me the art studio I'd always dreamed of.

Everyone knows not to fall in love with your best friend. But when your best friend is Michael Becker, it’s impossible not to. He’s everything our town knows a Becker brother to be: devastatingly handsome, charming as a thief, and the icing on the cake - a sentimental musician who’s never without his guitar. And he was mine. At least, that’s what I’d convinced myself. Our bond was born in elementary school, strengthened by circumstance and the promise to always be there for each other, no matter what. And the best thing about my life was being friends with Michael Becker.

When I declared sports medicine as my major and every man narrowed their eyes, that saying proved true. It was true when my ex-husband decided I'd give up my career when our daughter was born. And again when I divorced the Chief of Police in our small town, and he made it painfully clear that I could leave him, but I would never be free. Landing the job as the new athletic trainer for Stratford's high school team is my chance to start over. And walking into a male-dominated sport and staff, I'm ready for the challenge. I'm not ready for Jordan Becker.