I'll tell you about the two very large pickles I've found myself in, but only if you promise not to laugh…
Pickle number one: I'm unexpectedly pregnant by an NHL star, who just so happens to be my big brother's best friend—and no, we weren't exactly dating. For reasons that totally make sense (trust me for now), I never told him about the baby. Pickle number two: I'm about to lose my family's charming bed and breakfast unless I can get hitched within six months, thanks to an ancient deed and a ridiculous family feud. So I made a deal with the baby's dad, Jake Summers—the dashing forward and captain of the Vermont Vandals hockey team. Our plan? Fake an engagement, have a showy wedding, solve our little problems, then amicably split. It's simple: I keep my B&B, and he shows his team he's serious about cleaning up his act. Perfect, right? But Jake doesn't know how to do things by halves. Before I know it, I'm in Manhattan picking out lavish engagement rings and getting swept off my feet. I'm being paraded around charity galas like a princess and becoming the envy of every woman in the country. All this while he's diving headfirst into being a dad—without knowing he actually is one. It's practically foolproof, with hardly any room for this to spectacularly blow up in our faces. Save the date for our big, fake wedding! What could possibly go wrong?
