Blacktop Cowboys #2
Harper got let go of one of her jobs. She supports herself and her younger sister. She needs to find another job. So her best friend, Celia, sets her up with Bran as a ranch hand. It will be hard work but Harper is not afraid. Bran will only need her until his regular hand is recovered from being hurt by a bull.
Bran has always thought Harper was beautiful. She is a beauty queen after all. Her mother ran off with a man and a lot of the people in town hold that against her. In three months Harper and her sister are leaving town when her sister, Bailey, graduates from high school. But when Bailey's plans are not the plans that Harper had, it changes everything for her. How will Bran figure into Harper's new life?
I liked this book. Harper needs love and a stable home. She is determined to make that for Bailey but she wants something different.
From the author:
This beauty is no greenhorn--and she's about to rope the man of her dreams.
Cattleman Bran Turner is left shorthanded during busy calving season when a bull tramples his hired hand. Rural Wyoming isn’t exactly a hotbed of qualified candidates, and the only applicant for the position is the pampered town beauty, Harper Masterson. The curvy cowgirl gets under Bran’s skin at every turn, but with no other options, he reluctantly hires her.
When sexual sparks ignite, down-on-her-luck Harper enjoys convincing Bran that not only is she capable of pulling calves, feeding live-stock, and handling backbreaking ranch chores, but she doesn’t mind getting down and dirty, either. Harper also discovers the hotbodied cowboy isn’t all work and no horseplay…and he’s got more than a few tricks up his sleeve. Bran will learn quickly that Harper is no country mouse—and that she might just have what it takes to stick around for the long haul.
Due to a partial snowmelt Bran suggested they check cattle with the ATVs instead of the truck. It’d been a month since he’d double-checked a couple problems areas he couldn’t get to in his pickup. After he’d loaded up wire cutters and other supplies, he wondered how Harper would fare helping with the most monotonous aspect of ranching—fixing fence. But he didn’t doubt her ability. She’d done remarkably well with every mundane task he’d set in front of her the last week.
So when Harper breezily assured him that she had experience driving an ATV, he’d sped off ahead of her, expecting she’d keep up.
Not even f**king close.
Jesus. The woman drove like a ninety-year-old retirement home escapee. At the rate she was meandering along, it’d take them all damn day to reach the freakin’ fence, let alone have time to fix the damn thing once they actually got there.
Bran waited impatiently by the gate—the gate he’d had to open because his gate opener was a quarter mile behind him.
And when she’d finally putted up alongside him, her cheeks pinkened by the wind, strands of blonde hair sticking to her face and poking out of her hood, looking so goddamn cute and yet breathtakingly beautiful, he got instantly hard. And he instantly got mad about getting hard. He snarled, “Dammit, Harper. Is it too much to ask you to keep up with me?”
She peered at him over the top of her sunglasses. Dark, movie star type sunglasses bejeweled with pink and purple rhinestones in the corners above her eyes, for Christsake. “I didn’t know we were racing.”
“We’re not. But—”
“This is a dangerous job. I’m not about to pitch myself off this thing headfirst into a snowbank because you want to prove you can outmaneuver me. You can. You win.”
“The only danger you’re in, sweetheart, is from falling asleep at the wheel because you’re goin’ too goddamn slow.”
Harper smiled slyly. “Is that what you said to Les before his hip got broken? Hurry up?”
He growled. “Just keep up.”
“You go on ahead. I’ll close the gate, boss.”
Boss. Bran growled again. He zipped through the gate and across the field. All the way across the flattest part he didn’t hear the rumble of her ATV close behind him and since there wasn’t a side mirror, he couldn’t just glance in it to see where the hell she was.
Don’t turn around and look for her.
He resisted the temptation for oh, about...forty-five seconds. He slowed and spun around.
Fury bloomed when she raised her arm, from two hundred yards away, and waved at him like a goddamn...beauty queen atop a parade float.
She is a beauty queen, dumbass.
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