Big Country: A Fake Dating Romance

Big League Energy, Single Momma Energy, and more SHADE than a Louisiana live oak. MONTANA "Big Country." That name-my name-had Dodger Stadium shaking when I won the World Series. Now they're talking suspension? Please. I'm a national legend. The pride of NOLA. But the only thing dragging my six-foot-four frame into my Creole restaurant is Journey. That woman's a walking challenge-sharp tongue, soft smile, and eyes that promise trouble. One look from me and she fumbles that cool facade. One look from her and suddenly I'm reconsidering every rule I've ever followed. So yeah, I'm about to blur the line between business and pleasure.

ZURI That damn face of Montana's? Sculpted by heaven. His body? A gift to the female race. But his baseball alter ego, Big Country, has me practicing for the forty-yard dash. Kidding. I'm proficient at running. Hell, he doesn't know my real name. My locs stay concealed behind a Diana Ross wig that probably smells of desperation and deception. And nobody will ever know the truth about my son's father. But the problem isn't pretending. It's the way he looks at me-like he sees straight through the disguise. And if I'm not careful, he might see the woman I swore I'd never let anyone touch ... again.