There were two problems with kissing him. First—he kissed like sin. Second—he knew it. Now we’re stuck in Scotland together, and pretending it never happened is not on the itinerary.
Rayann has charm, connections, and one job: make sure a million-dollar celebration in the Scottish Highlands goes off without a hitch. But when her boss assigns the company's broody security chief to join her? Everything unravels fast.
Max is ex-military, exasperating, and too attractive for Rayann’s sanity. He follows rules. She makes her own. He’s planning for worst-case scenarios. She’s trying not to jump him in a castle hallway. And the worst part? The more they argue, the harder it is to remember why this was supposed to be a professional trip.
Tensions are high. Stakes are higher. And between ancient feuds, competitive games, and one very inconvenient suite-sharing situation… the line between enemies and lovers is about to disappear completely.
Wrecked by You is a sexy, enemies-to-lovers romcom with snappy banter, forced proximity, and enough slow-burn tension to melt your passport. Perfect for readers who crave serious heat, sharp wit, and emotionally intelligent characters who know exactly how high the stakes are—especially when it comes to falling in love.
There were two problems with kissing him. First—he kissed like sin. Second—he knew it. Now we’re stuck in Scotland together, and pretending it never happened is not on the itinerary.
Rayann has charm, connections, and one job: make sure a million-dollar celebration in the Scottish Highlands goes off without a hitch. But when her boss assigns the company's broody security chief to join her? Everything unravels fast.
Max is ex-military, exasperating, and too attractive for Rayann’s sanity. He follows rules. She makes her own. He’s planning for worst-case scenarios. She’s trying not to jump him in a castle hallway. And the worst part? The more they argue, the harder it is to remember why this was supposed to be a professional trip.
Tensions are high. Stakes are higher. And between ancient feuds, competitive games, and one very inconvenient suite-sharing situation… the line between enemies and lovers is about to disappear completely.
Wrecked by You is a sexy, enemies-to-lovers romcom with snappy banter, forced proximity, and enough slow-burn tension to melt your passport. Perfect for readers who crave serious heat, sharp wit, and emotionally intelligent characters who know exactly how high the stakes are—especially when it comes to falling in love.
"Rayann Wilder. My office. Now."
I swear, I tried to behave this time. But trouble finds me, especially when sisters are involved. I tucked a long strand of dark hair behind my ear, trying to look less like someone who just googled “how to fake innocence convincingly.”
It’s the full-name treatment. So yeah, I’m probably busted. Again.
I poked my head out of my door with a smile sweet enough to get me acquitted. “What’s up, Summer?”
Behind me, the soft tones of my office—my sister Emme’s doing—offered the kind of peace my brain rarely delivered on its own.
My older sister stood across the hallway, arms crossed and her best no-nonsense glare locked and loaded. Summer Wilder, Chief Operating Officer of Wilder Horizons and self-appointed dictator of my life, had clearly hit her limit.
Manicured, pressed, and terrifyingly efficient in heels that could double as weapons.
“What the hell were you thinking booking the McIveys with the McAlisters on the Isle of Skye? They despise each other!”
“It was their request, remember?” I said, reaching back for my oversized coffee mug. It read: Don’t Rush Me, I’m Waiting for the Drama. Seemed fitting.
“The wedding? Fiona McIvey is marrying Collum McAlister. They want to celebrate the end of their feud. True love, clan unity, homeland vibes. All that crap.”
Summer’s brow arched so high I thought it might hit her hairline. “And you didn’t think to flag this as a potential disaster waiting to happen?”
“Look,” I said, taking a sip of coffee and leaning casually against the door frame. “They requested it, Summer. Fiona and Collum were very clear. They’re in love, the feud is over, and this is about bringing their families together.”
I flicked my fingers to make a point, the pale pink polish still glossy from yesterday’s stress-manicure.
“They wanted something meaningful in Scotland, and I made it happen.”
Summer didn’t look convinced. “And you don’t think there’s even the slightest chance they’ll drag each other back into a centuries-old grudge?”
I shrugged. “If they do, that’s their legacy. I’m not here to fix their family therapy sessions. I’m here to deliver a perfect, once-in-a-lifetime experience, and Horizons is going to give it to them.”
Her glare could cut steel. “Their families are among our top-tier clients.”
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of our Maris Key office, the Gulf glittered beneath the late-morning sun, all sparkle and serenity. Around here, even the view knew how to impress—just like our clients expected.
“You’re flying out early to make sure everything goes off without a hitch. And I'm sending Max with you.”
Max Harrington. Head of Security. Former Navy SEAL. Full-time mood killer, part-time menace.
I choked. “Max? Not a chance. He’s insufferable.”
Always so damn calm and competent—engineered in a lab for maximum efficiency. A smug, gorgeous lab specimen. Showoff.
This morning, I couldn’t even remember where I left my car keys. And that smirk? It’s like he knows how much he annoys me—and enjoys every second of it. No.
“You owe me, Rayann. Don’t act like I’ve forgotten about the mechanical bull incident at the Beaumont ranch gala. That client still thinks it was part of the itinerary.”
“Exactly! It was on-theme. Western elegance meets wild instincts.”
Summer sighed through her nose. “And don’t think Brynn’s off the hook either. She’s handling the Costa Rica trip after that additional little cowboy prank you two pulled at the client dinner.”
Damn it. How does she always find out about that stuff? We were so subtle this time.
“Max is the best insurance policy I’ve got against you charming your way straight into a civil war.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, twirling the mug in my hands a little too fast, sloshing the last few drops of coffee onto my wrist. “But I’m not bringing you home any presents this time. And I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Then stop acting like you need one,” she shot back, her tone leaving no room for debate. “And you owe me some Scotch, too.”
I slumped against the wall and stared after her. Her heels clicked down the hall, every step carrying divine purpose and zero patience.
This was how it worked. Summer issued orders, and the rest of us scrambled to make her vision sparkle.
Sometimes I hated how right she was. Most of the time, I just wanted to beat her to the glitter.
"Scotland, huh?" Brynn leaned against the doorframe, suntanned arms crossed, her grin as sly as ever. Her hazel eyes were my own. Same sun-kissed freckles, same wild grin. Though hers looked far less stressed.
"What did you do this time?"
I didn’t even look up from the chaos on my bed: boots, chargers, and about half my closet scattered in what I liked to call my packing system.
The rest of my place didn’t match the mess. Sunlight spilled through sheer linen curtains, brushing over white oak floors and beachy neutrals that felt more spa than sales director. Emme helped me design this too: clean lines, calming tones, zero clutter. At least, until I started packing. Now it resembled the aftermath of a boutique losing its mind mid-tantrum.
"Nothing!" I said, untangling a wad of cables. They’d somehow woven themselves into a knotted sculpture of doom, and working them loose was weirdly calming.
"I mean, technically nothing. Summer’s just being her usual overbearing self."
Brynn arched a perfectly shaped brow, a mirror image of my own. "And this has nothing to do with us hot-wiring the client dinner playlist to ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’ during that slow dance?”
I froze. "Wait… that’s why she’s sending you to Costa Rica?"
She gave a dramatic sigh. "Apparently, I need to 'practice restraint around high-profile guests.' So now I get to escort a group of millionaire man-babies who want to cosplay as Tarzan while comparing metaphorical penises on a jungle zipline."
I snorted. "Sounds like character-building."
"Yeah, well, at least she didn’t saddle me with Max in a haunted castle." She pointed a flip-flop at me. "You’re the one getting the raw deal."
"Punishment with bagpipes." I flopped back onto the bed. "Seriously, who settles a clan feud with a destination wedding? In a drafty Scottish fortress? With a guest list straight out of a Highland Hunger Games?"
"And you’re the tribute."
"Exactly. And one wrong toast and someone’s grandmother might challenge me to a duel.”
She grinned. "I’m starting to think Summer just wants to keep us apart. Classic divide and conquer."
"Which is rude, considering we're both ruthlessly brilliant at our jobs. I’m the pretty little paperclip holding this whole damn operation together while Summer struts around like CEO Barbie.”
I stepped around a pair of heels that cost more than I’d admit and flung a silk blouse across the bed, betrayal stitched into every thread.
“Okay, elitist energy.” Brynn leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. "If we’re being serious for a hot second, which I hate, you might actually like Max if you’d quit using him as your personal chew toy. You might realize he’s actually kinda decent. Annoying, sure. But decent. Oh, yeah, and hot as sin."
I snorted, shoving a pile of socks into the corner of my suitcase. “Max Harrington is not the kind of guy anyone likes. He’s the guy who corrects grammar in text messages and irons his jeans. Who even irons jeans?”
Brynn laughed, tossing a pillow at me. “Okay, valid point. But maybe you need someone like Max to balance you out.”
I froze mid-fold, one sock dangling from my hand. My brain scattered—just long enough for the silence to stretch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
"You’re chaos, Rayann. Freaking brilliant chaos, sure, but chaos all the same. Max is order. Logic. Honestly? Maybe that’s exactly why you’d be good for each other."
My fingers started tapping out some anxious Morse code against my thigh before I even realized it.
I opened my mouth to argue, but... damn it, she wasn’t wrong. I was chaos—messy, impulsive, allergic to routine—and Max? Max was control in a dress shirt. Calm. Steady. Maddeningly perfect.
“Not happening,” I said finally, slamming the suitcase shut with the finality of a debt collector collecting in full.
Brynn shrugged, grabbing a scarf from the bed. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when you come back all heart-eyes over him.”
“Get out.” I threw the pillow back at her, laughing despite myself.
She stood, but before leaving, she paused in the doorway, her expression softer now. “Seriously, though, don’t let Summer or Max get to you. Our clients adore you. You’re the one they always ask for by name. You’ve got this, Ray.”
Even after she left, her voice lingered, tangled up with my charging cables and self-doubt. I gathered the last of the chaos, but the knot in my chest pulled tighter with every folded shirt.
Maybe I need a Max in my life. I yanked the zipper shut with the aggression of someone who’d just lost an argument to her suitcase, then snorted. Or maybe I just need noise-canceling headphones and a Xanax.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I ignored it for thirty seconds—an eternity, really—before curiosity won.
Max. Of course. Because apparently the universe was feeling petty.
What happens when you pair a beautiful, chaotic mess of a vacation planner with the handsome, type-a personality of the security lead? You get Wrecked By You, one of my favorite romance reads of the year.
The two leads have a beautiful dynamic that's healthy in a reading landscape which seems to be championing more toxic relationships lately. Though it's a romantic comedy, there are some much heavier emotions rooting the humor too. The author's writing style tackles both equally well; Rayann's internal freaking out nuanced and punchy rather than dragging.
Sometimes novels feel make things like the setting or the character's careers feel just like window dressing. They either don't really matter to the plot or worse, the character/locale operates in opposition to what they are described to be. Thankfully, neither of that happens here. Scotland, including a cozy cottage in the country, feels fully utilized here. Equally, enough can't be said about how well the character's roles in the same company lend to their personality clashes. Both are drastically different, but compliment each other in real ways.
This was very close to a higher rating, but it wasn't quite the practically perfect I reserve that for. While not what I'd call prevalent, there are enough typos or formatting issues to be distracting, especially in key scenes. I also felt like there wasn't quite enough of the enemies aspect to the enemies-to-lovers trope, and that it was more an opposites attract story.
Overall, Wrecked By You is a very fun and fast read for romance lovers. Witty banter, idyllic settings, and a healthy relationship dynamic were some of my favorite aspects. While this one didn't quite hit the enemies-to-lovers for me, the planned sequel looks to nail it. I loved the writing style enough in this one that I hope to get my hands on the next!