Get ready to fall for this hero; he is everything you could ever want in a guy! Tripp is a widower and single dad who is adorkable but strong at the same time. There are some really sweet (and hilarious) moments featuring him being a good dad AND a great guy, which will melt your heart. As with any book by Pippa Grant, there is quirky humor and so much lightness, but I felt like this one also had a more serious tone than anything I’ve read from her in the past. It wasn’t QUITE the escapism I was looking for (especially given our hero is terrified of germs, which struck a little too close to home at the moment), but it’s a solid addition to the series and a fun, sweet read.
The story follows Tripp, a former boy band member turned husband and father who lost his wife a few years ago. He’s been focusing on his kids ever since and might be SLIGHTLY overprotective. When he meets Lila, it’s the perfect opportunity to get away from his reality for a little while, and the attraction sparks immediately. Things take a turn for the steamy, but they’re interrupted… which might be for the best since they soon learn they’ll be working together. As a workaholic without a family of her own, Lila isn’t quite sure how to handle Tripp, but she knows that she can’t stay away.
Pippa Grant is one of my go-to authors for rom coms because she always brings the funny while sneaking in some heartfelt moments as well. This had all of that, but I almost wanted it to be quirkier. Lila’s not the kind of heroine I normally gravitate towards, and she brings a seriousness to the book that sometimes gave it a somber feel when paired with the heaviness of Tripp’s past. She does open up later on, and I loved the intimacy that builds between these two. I also loved the cast of characters – there are appearances from other Bro Code members and an introduction to the sports team we’ll be hearing more about in future books. I can’t wait for Davis’ book, because I think that’s going to be a good one, and I love a good sports romance so you can count me in for Grant’s next book. All in all, it’s a great addition to the series that stands on its own but is better when you’re familiar with the other characters. I received an ARC via Give Me Books and am voluntarily leaving a review of this funny, heartfelt book.
Title: Liar, Liar, Hearts on Fire
Series: Bro Code #3
Author: Pippa Grant
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: March 24, 2020
Never borrow pants from your brother. Especially if he’s a size smaller than you are, because all that pressure in the junk will short-circuit your brain.
And you’ll lie to a woman in a club about your real name.
Leave her unsatisfied after making out in a bathroom.
Then find out that she’s the one thing standing in the way of your dreams. And
she very much doesn’t like being lied to.
Now I have to convince Lila Valentine—the woman I can’t stop thinking about, my
biggest regret, and my new boss—that I’m what’s best for the baseball team
If we can’t work together to save the Fireballs, the commissioner’s forcing a
sale and moving them across the country.
I’ll do anything to save my home team.
But the one thing I can’t do?
Keep my hands to myself.
Which would be fine, if she hadn’t been telling me lies this whole time too.
Liar, Liar, Hearts on Fire is a rocking fun romance between a single dad obsessed with baseball, an heiress with secrets, baseball pants, a rundown team, and rabid ducks. It stands alone and comes with a guaranteed happily-ever-after.
Kindle Edition: https://amzn.to/2Ubhzzl
Amazon Paperback: https://amzn.to/2IMEKut
The squawking erupts again nearby and saves me. There are no visible chickens on the field, and it gets louder as we approach the dugout on the first base side.
Like, are there chicken police? Because we might need the chicken police.
I drift directly behind Tripp while we approach the noise, shameless in using him as a human shield if this is a chicken uprising. What’s that movie? The one with the apes that rebel and take over the world? That’s what this sounds like, except with feathers and clucks instead of chest-pounding and grunts.
“Should we call security?” My self-defense classes didn’t cover protecting yourself from rabid chickens.
“That’d be a foul,” he murmurs. And then chuckles to himself, and oh my god.
“Foul—fowl? Like a bird-fowl? Did you just make a dad joke at a time like this?”
“A time like this? You mean a random Tuesday night at a deserted ball field?”
“At a time when the chickens are gathering for a ritualistic sacrifice of one of their own.”
His shoulders shake, and he seems to be struggling to cough.
“Oh, god, did you inhale a feather? Is that how this starts? They shed their feathers to choke us to death?”
“Please don’t talk about chickens and choking in the same sentence.”
“That was not a dad joke.”
I squat low, spinning to see what I’m ducking from.
Tripp flips his flashlight on me. I squint and cover my head. “Stop! I can’t see! What’s coming?”
“Lila. Ducks. Ducks. Not chickens. It’s mating ducks.”
He swings the flashlight to the dugout, and—oh.
“Is it…supposed to be that violent?”
There are two ducks under the bench in the dugout, one flapping its wings and chasing the other, who’s squawking so loudly she could wake the dead.
And— “Ohmygod, I did not need to see that!”
Oh my god. Duck penis. Duck penis should not look like that.
Tripp’s bent double laughing.
“Where’s security?” I demand. “Hello? Security? Security? I’ll give whoever removes this duck a ten-thousand-dollar bonus. Right now.”
No one comes running for ten grand, because no one can hear me.
The squawking. It’s a cry for help.
“It’s nature,” Tripp says. He’s wiping his eyes now, he’s laughing so hard. “Give ’em a few. They’ll finish up.”
The girl duck is racing back and forth under the bench.
The boy duck is chasing her with that thing.
And I am not having it. “Shoo. Shoo!“
“Lila!” Tripp calls, but I’m already gone.
Flapping my arms. Yelling. Charging the dugout and the ducks.
Why are they even here? There’s no pond here. Winter’s coming. They should be flying to the Caribbean for Mai Tais and sunshine.
And instead, they’re ruining the sanctity of my ballpark.
I hit the stairs down to the long covered bench, and the boy duck suddenly seems to realize I’m coming at him.
He turns, pointing that thing at me, flaps his wings, and gets this evil glint in his eyes that means I really should’ve thought about what I was doing before I came in here.
“Woo her nicely,” I snap.
He squawks—no, quacks at me.
I need to go back to kindergarten to learn my animal sounds again. I’m a city girl. We don’t do farm animals.
“And put that thing away!“
“Lila.” Tripp’s laughing so hard he’s wheezing. He grabs my elbow and tugs. “Let the ducks be.”
“I’d let it be if he wasn’t attacking her.”
“Maybe that’s how ducks have sex.”
“Then maybe ducks shouldn’t exist.”
“QQQUUUUAAAACCCCCKKKKK!” the boy duck yells.
It’s like a Braveheart yell, and I realize I’m asking the wrong question.
I shouldn’t be asking why is the duck assaulting the other duck in a dugout?
I should be asking what have humans previously done to this duck because he’s going to kill me?
It charges, wings flapping.
I scream and take off running. Tripp mutters a well-timed, oh, fuck and runs with me. “The other dugout,” he shouts, pointing to the dugout on the third base side.
Another light flashes up in the stands.
“Security!” I yell. “Arrest the duck! Arrest the duck!“
It’s gaining on us. Quacking louder. And it can fly. It can fly.
It’s going to swoop over us, poop on our heads, and whack us with that—that—that mutant penis and then scoop us up in its talons, and—”Aaah! It got me. It got me!“
“Don’t fuck with nature,” Tripp grunts.
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Pippa Grant is a USA Today Bestselling author who writes romantic comedies that will make tears run down your leg. When she’s not reading, writing or sleeping, she’s being crowned employee of the month as a stay-at-home mom and housewife trying to prepare her adorable demon spawn to be productive members of society, all the while
fantasizing about long walks on the beach with hot chocolate chip cookies.
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