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street. He left the keys in the ignition and got out so she could drive.
    Once they were back on the highway, Harper said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve driven a truck. I forgot how much higher up you sit.”
    “I can’t remember the last time I drove a car.”
    Silence stretched between them.
    Bran wasn’t one to run off at the mouth, but in his experience most women were. They’d fill dead air with mindless chatter. Maybe it surprised him that Harper wasn’t like that. She hadn’t turned on the radio either.
    So it was really strange, his desire to linger after she pulled up to his trailer. To find out everything about her. To discover what else he’d gotten wrong.
    Jesus, you’re pathetic. She’s working for you. Would you have these same thoughts if you’d hired a male hand?
    No. Goddammit. He started to bail out of the truck, but she placed her hand on his arm, stopping him.
    “Thank you for giving me a chance. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know, Bran. You won’t regret hiring me.”
    As Bran looked at her beautiful, earnest face, he couldn’t tell her he already had regrets. Because chances were very high that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off his sexy new ranch hand.

    The front door slammed.
    “Whose truck is parked out front?”
    Harper stopped sorting through the pile of bills and glanced up at her younger sister.
    With her square glasses, glossy brown ponytail, checkered school uniform, and enormous backpack, Bailey looked like the brainiac she was.
    “It’s mine. For a while anyway.” Harper pointed to the plate of Rice Krispie treats on the coffee table. “There’s your snack.”
    “God. Let me get out of this stupid uniform. I hate uniforms.” She stripped as she headed to her room and returned thirty seconds later wearing baggy gray sweatpants and a Death Cab for Cutie T-shirt. Bailey threw herself on the couch and grabbed a treat. “So tell me about the redneck wheels.” She shoved the entire square bar in her mouth.
    “Alice fired me yesterday.”
    Bailey choked.
    Harper was right there, helping her sit up and handing her a glass of water. Bailey sputtered and swallowed.
    When she got control, she said, “Warn me next time. God, Harper. You got fired? Are you okay?”
    “It’s been bizarre. But hours after I lost the job, Celia told me that Bran Turner needed a temporary hired hand. Today he gave me the ranching lowdown, and I watched a calf being born—coolest thing ever, by the way—and he hired me. The truck comes with the job.”
    Bailey’s green eyes widened. “You’re working for Bran Turner?”
    “How do you know Bran?”
    “Jeez, Harper. Everyone knows Bran. He’s a real cowboy, not a wannabe like some of the losers around here who put on shitkickers, a cheap cowboy hat, and a fake rodeo buckle. Dude. He’s got that mean, squinty Clint Eastwood stare that’s scary as shit.”
    Bailey had hit it dead-on. Bran was the real deal. That was partially why he made her so nervous. She felt like an absolute idiot around him—even more stupid than she usually did.
    “I wish you’d stop saying shit like that, Harper. You’re not stupid,” Bailey said.
    She was unaware that she’d spoken out loud. “I’ll be working for him during the day. But he mentioned there’d be some late nights too.”
    Bailey waggled her eyebrows. “Can I just say how jealous I am of those late nights? You and studly cattleman Bran. All alone. Cold. Sweaty. Dirty. Tired. Who knows what might happen.”
    “I’m sure Bran will be a perfect gentleman while I’m his employee.”
    “For your sake, I sure as hell hope not.”
    Before Harper could rebuke her sister, Bailey’s cell phone buzzed. Immediately after digging it out of her backpack, Bailey glued the phone to her ear, walked to her bedroom, and closed the door.
    Although Harper was used to Bailey’s tendency to drop everything when her cell rang, she wished for more time to talk. Yawning, Harper stretched