Amy Daws has carved out a delightful niche in contemporary romance with her Mountain Men Matchmaker series, and Honeymoon Phase, the third installment following Nine Month Contract and Seven Year Itch, delivers everything fans have come to expect: humor that lands with precision, emotional depth that sneaks up on you, and chemistry that practically ignites the pages. This friends-to-lovers, marriage-of-convenience romance featuring Luke Fletcher and Addison Monroe manages to feel both comfortably familiar and refreshingly original, though it occasionally stumbles under the weight of its own machinations.<\/p>\n
The premise hooks immediately with its delicious absurdity. Addison \u201cRoe\u201d Monroe faces an archaic ultimatum: marry before year\u2019s end or watch her father sell Monroe Lumber and Building Center, the family business she\u2019s poured her soul into running. The trust requirement, created by her great-grandfather, refuses to allow single ownership. When Roe announces her plan to find a husband at the local lumberjack competition, her best friend Luke Fletcher decides desperate times require desperate measures. Rather than watch Roe marry some \u201chulking ax wielder who might be a serial killer,\u201d Luke transforms himself into Lumberjack Luke, complete with competition-level skills acquired through grueling training orchestrated by his matchmaking niece, Everly.<\/p>\n
Daws structures this setup with impressive efficiency, establishing both the external conflict (the inheritance requirement) and the internal one (Luke\u2019s secret three-year pining) within the opening chapters. The dual timeline format\u2014jumping between their marriage ceremony and flashbacks to how they arrived there\u2014creates immediate tension while allowing readers to witness both the planning and execution of their scheme.<\/p>\n
Luke Fletcher emerges as the series\u2019 most emotionally complex protagonist thus far. Unlike his brothers Wyatt and Calder, who found love almost despite themselves, Luke enters this arrangement fully aware of his feelings. His journey isn\u2019t about discovering love but about finding the courage to pursue it after grief has taught him that losing someone hurts worse than never trying. The death of his father three years prior haunts Luke\u2019s every romantic decision, creating a psychological barrier that feels authentic rather than manufactured for plot convenience.<\/p>\n
Daws excels at portraying Luke\u2019s internal struggle. He\u2019s simultaneously the most emotionally available Fletcher brother and the most emotionally constrained, a paradox that manifests in beautiful small gestures\u2014the perfect Cartier ring that matches Roe\u2019s aesthetic, remembering her sourdough bread preferences, creating a sleeping sanctuary in his arms. These moments showcase a man who\u2019s been loving Addison for years in the quiet, unacknowledged ways that best friends do.<\/p>\n
Addison proves more complex and occasionally more frustrating than her characterization initially suggests. Daws crafts her as a woman comfortable in traditionally masculine spaces\u2014running a lumberyard, driving forklifts, preferring work boots to heels\u2014while still allowing her feminine vulnerabilities. Her backstory carries substantial emotional weight: a brother who died at eight from a drunk driver, a mother who chose alcohol over her daughter, and a father whose conditional love revolves around outdated gender expectations<\/a>.<\/p>\n However, Roe\u2019s trust issues sometimes veer toward the frustrating. Her knee-jerk retreat when she discovers Everly\u2019s matchmaking involvement\u2014treating Luke\u2019s orchestrated lumberjack training as an unforgivable betrayal rather than an elaborate grand gesture\u2014strains believability given their years of friendship. The pacing here suffers as Daws extends the third-act conflict longer than the story can sustain, particularly when resolution requires Roe simply talking to Luke about her fears rather than fleeing to Boulder.<\/p>\n Daws navigates the marriage-of-convenience trope<\/a> with awareness of its well-worn path while finding opportunities for innovation. The \u201cFact or Fiction?\u201d chapter headings provide a clever framing device that mirrors Luke and Roe\u2019s journey from pretense to authenticity. Each chapter begins with a statement\u2014\u201dMarriage of convenience is a thing,\u201d \u201cBest friends make good husbands,\u201d \u201cGrief can bring people together\u201d\u2014that the narrative then explores, challenges, or confirms.<\/p>\n The fake-marriage elements hit expected beats: the awkward first kiss at the county clerk\u2019s office, sleeping arrangements that progress from separate rooms to shared bed, maintaining the charade for family members. Where Daws elevates the material is in the small moments of genuine connection that bloom within the artifice. Luke\u2019s insistence on carrying Roe over the threshold \u201cbride-over-the-back\u201d style because it\u2019s \u201cmuch more her style\u201d captures their dynamic perfectly\u2014he sees her completely and loves what he sees.<\/p>\n The sexual tension builds with admirable restraint before combusting magnificently. Their shower scene carries genuine heat while maintaining emotional authenticity, as does their decision to forego protection because Roe \u201cwants to feel\u201d Luke. Daws writes intimacy that feels earned rather than gratuitous, though readers seeking extensive steam should note that while the scenes deliver quality, they\u2019re relatively sparse compared to other contemporary romances.<\/p>\n One of the series\u2019 greatest strengths lies in its interconnected family dynamics, and Honeymoon Phase benefits enormously from the established Fletcher ecosystem. Wyatt and Trista (from Nine Month Contract) and Calder and Dakota (from Seven Year Itch) provide both comic relief and relationship models that Luke measures himself against. Their presence reminds readers that Fletcher Mountain represents more than geography\u2014it\u2019s a philosophy about love, family, and building something lasting.<\/p>\n Everly Fletcher deserves particular mention as perhaps the series\u2019 most entertaining character. The nineteen-year-old self-proclaimed matchmaker orchestrates Luke\u2019s transformation with the confidence of someone who\u2019s successfully paired her father (Max from Last on the List) and both uncles. Her scenes crackle with energy, and her upcoming book (Bad Boy Era, scheduled for May 2026) promises to be a highlight of the series based on the glimpses Daws provides here.<\/p>\n John Monroe, Roe\u2019s father, walks a difficult line between antagonist and well-meaning parent. His insistence on the marriage requirement stems from a combination of traditional values and genuine concern that Roe will exhaust herself running the business alone as he did. Daws mostly succeeds in making him sympathetic despite his outdated views, though his gun-cleaning introduction scene tips into caricature.<\/p>\n What distinguishes Honeymoon Phase from lighter contemporary romances is Daws\u2019s willingness to sit with grief and examine how it shapes romantic choices. Both Luke and Roe carry substantial losses\u2014his father, her brother Aaron, her mother\u2019s abandonment\u2014and these absences inform their present in ways both obvious and subtle.<\/p>\nThe Marriage of Convenience Trope: Familiar Yet Fresh<\/h2>\n
Supporting Cast: The Fletcher Family Ecosystem<\/h2>\n
Grief as Character and Theme<\/h2>\n