Wild Rose

My brother is out of commission, so I’m left running our ranch on my own all summer. Or at least I was until my best friend proposed hiring his wild-child sister from the East Coast. It seems perfect – until her first day. Because the Rose I once knew is all grown up. Petite, mouthy – with sinful emerald eyes that don’t cower at my scowls. She knocks the breath right out of me. And not just because she keeps crashing into me at work. But there’s more to this spitfire than she’s seen for. And I want it all.