CHAPTER ONE

      “UH...IS THAT, uh, our boss walking this way?” Josh Whitlock heard the new ranch hand ask.

      While Josh dragged the saddle off the gelding he’d just ridden, he wondered why the heck the new hand, Tommie “Termite” Tompkins, had added those “uh”s to the question. After all, there was only one woman on the Applewood Ranch, and that one woman, Hope Applewood, was indeed the boss. So, seeing a female heading toward the barn shouldn’t have caused much confusion even from a hand who seemed proud of the nickname Termite.

      However, when Josh threw a quick look over his shoulder, he saw the reason for Termite’s puzzlement.

      Holy crap. It was Hope all right. But she didn’t look much like the boss of a successful ranch. Nope. For one thing, he could see some of her legs and thighs since she wasn’t wearing her usual crud-crusted jeans. She had on a dress that was red enough, and short enough, to stop speeding interstate traffic. It certainly stopped Josh and made him take a long look.

      Oh, man.

      Josh groaned. He was thinking thoughts that he darn sure shouldn’t be thinking about his boss. Like how it would feel to slide his hand under that little red dress and discover if she preferred cotton or lace when it came to her panties.

      Actually, Josh wondered what it would be like to get her out of those panties, too. But then, that was a thought he was always fighting when it came to Hope. She was a looker all right with that honey-blond hair, fresh face and thunderstorm-gray eyes.

      The rest of Hope’s “outfit” thankfully didn’t fuel the fantasies going on behind the zipper of Josh’s jeans. She’d paired that smoking-hot dress with what appeared to be a tablecloth that she was using for a shawl, and she had on cowboy boots. Not the fashion-statement kind of boots that city girls wore, either. These were the same ones she’d worn for the entire three years that Josh had worked for her.

      “Uh,” Hope said as she stepped into the barn.

      Apparently, “uh” was the preferred word of communication today, but Josh didn’t think it was aimed at him but rather Termite. “This is our new hand,” Josh told her. “Tommie Tompkins.”

      “Termite,” Tommie corrected him, extending his hand for her to shake. “I used to chew on number-two pencils when I was a kid, and that’s how I got the name.”

      She shook his hand, nodded, smiled, but shaking, nodding and smiling seemed to be the last things that Hope wanted to do right now. She seemed nervous or something.

      Josh checked his watch. “You’re not out here to work, are you? Because you’re supposed to be getting ready for the party right about now.”

      No need to clarify what party because it was indeed the party. An annual one put on by Wrangler’s Creek royalty, the Grangers. To the best of Josh’s knowledge, it was the only party that Hope ever attended, mainly because she saw it as a business obligation, but for the past three years, she’d worn the same black pants outfit.

      “That’s what I’ve been trying to do—get ready,” Hope answered, and she volleyed a few glances between Termite and him. “Uh, I need some help,” she added to Josh. “Could you come to the tack room with me?”

      Hope didn’t wait for him to answer. She took hold of his arm and started leading Josh in that direction.

      “My date canceled,” she grumbled. “And Karlee, who was supposed to help me get ready, had to cancel, too, because she’s running late. Personally, I think that’s an excuse, and she just doesn’t want to face me. She tossed