Page 3 of My Mountain Man Valentine

“No problem,” I assured him. “If Linzie doesn’t like these, feel free to exchange them. We have a decent selection of graphic novels, too.”

He nodded. When we reached the counter, he set the books down carefully. “And if you see Caroline, maybe let her know I actually listened to her advice?”

I noted how his features softened when he mentioned Caroline. “I can do that. I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear you’re trying. This whole situation can’t be easy.”

He gave a slight shrug. “I’m used to dealing with stuff on my own, but…Linzie’s different. She’s only 13, too. She needs stability right now, and I’m doing my best to provide it.”

The afternoon progressed in a slow, steady rhythm. A few more customers popped in—an elderly couple browsing travel guides, a college student searching for a poetry collection. Between visitors, I took inventory and jotted down notes for the next week’s promotional display. The sky outside turned from pale gray to a murky silver as dusk neared, the snowfall briefly pausing before the clouds threatened another burst.

Just as I debated closing a bit early, the bell rang one more time. I turned, half expecting to see Caroline returning to pick up a book she forgot or perhaps Levi making his rounds. Instead, it was Levi indeed—but his shoulders were tense, and he carried a hint of urgency in his eyes.

“Hey,” I said softly, stepping around the counter to greet him. “Everything okay at Skyline?”

He gave a curt nod. “Fine, mostly. Just came from the bar, and guess who showed up to do a ‘video tour’? Angelique. She breezed in with her phone, said she wanted to show her followers the ‘rustic side of Hope Peak.’” He practically spat the words. “She also mentioned wanting to ‘team up’ with Ryder for some thrilling footage on the mountain.”

My stomach twisted in discomfort. “Was Ryder there?”

He shook his head. “No, but she was talking like it’s a done deal. Something about filming him doing extreme snowboarding in real-time for her followers.” His jaw flexed. “I didn’t tell her much, just that I needed to get back to the kitchen. But Tessa…” He paused, running a hand over his face. “I’m worried. I don’t want you anywhere near that mess if she comes to you and asks you to help out.”

I stiffened slightly. “I’m not planning to volunteer for her videos, Levi. I run a bookstore. Unless Angelique wants to film a reading tutorial, I doubt I’m in danger.”

He exhaled slowly. “I know. I just worry. You’re too nice, and I don’t want you to let anyone pressure you into doing something you’re not comfortable with—especially if it means putting yourself in danger.”

Annoyance warred with understanding inside me. I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Levi, I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But you have to trust that I’m capable of making my own decisions. I’m not some naive kid anymore.”

His gaze flicked over my face, and I saw the conflict in his eyes. He did trust me—mostly. He just feared that heartbreak, or worse, might find me again. With a reluctant nod, he said, “All right. But you’ll let me know if anything happens?”

I offered a small, reassuring smile. “Yes, big brother.”

He gave me a quick hug, then left. In the silence that followed, I let out a long breath, realizing how tightly my shoulders had been knotted. It often felt like Levi saw me as still grieving and fragile—a state I had existed in for a while, admittedly. But I wanted to believe I had learned how to stand on my own two feet. If only I could show Levi, and myself, that I was ready for more.

I looked out the window at the deepening twilight. The streetlights glowed yellow against the wintry dusk, their illumination dancing on the thin layer of snow. I lingered by the front display table, where the Valentine’s Day books and decorations seemed to glow under the soft overhead lights. My thoughts drifted toward Ryder again, the recollection of his easy grin and confident stance tugging at me in ways I usually tried to dismiss.

I closed the shop in that contemplative mood, switching off the main lights and locking the door. Outside, the wind gusted, carrying more snow in swirling eddies around my boots. As I made my way home, I kept my collar turned up against the chill, but no matter how cold the wind felt on my cheeks, a warmth spread through my chest. Something was shifting in Hope Peak, and in my own heart. Caroline’s words echoed through my mind: You deserve a real-life love story too. Maybe this Valentine’s Day, I would finally take a chance, rather than simply sell romance novels to everyone else. And if that chance involved Ryder Hawke, well… I only hoped my heart could handle whatever came next.

Chapter Two

RYDER

I stepped off the snow-packed trail behind my wilderness office, breathing in the crisp morning air that drifted down from the mountain peaks. Even in early February, Hope Peak, Montana, could pack a biting chill, and today was no exception. My breath plumed in front of me as I unlocked the small log-sided building that served as my main base of operations. I guided tours all over this part of Montana—rafting in the summer, snowshoeing and cross-country skiing in the winter. It was work that let me roam freely among the pine forests and lofty ridges, exactly the way I liked.

The inside of my office smelled of pine and old coffee grounds. I flicked on the overhead light, illuminating the map-lined walls. There were topographical charts of the surrounding trails, a few tacked-up photos of past groups I’d guided, and a desk that always looked on the verge of disorder despite my best attempts. Outside the single window, I caught sight of swirling snow and the tops of evergreens bending in a gentle wind.

I still felt keyed up from the morning’s tour—just a few brave souls wanting an early trek, all novices who clung to me like I was their lifeline on the snowy trails. Guiding them gave me the familiar buzz of excitement. They had finished half an hour ago, departing with flushed cheeks and broad smiles, vowing to return in the summer.

I set my pack on the desk and exhaled, letting the day’s responsibilities settle in. Usually, I thrived on that energized sense of motion. But a niggling worry clung to the corners of my mind, and it had a name…Angelique Bishop.

I had heard the rumors swirling around Hope Peak these past two days—my ex was back and in the midst of filming some over-the-top content for her social media. Last night, a friend texted me to say she’d seen Angelique wandering around Skyline Bar & Grill, snapping selfies and chatting about “epic mountain stunts with Ryder.” The possibility of her wanting to rope me into her latest get-rich-quick scheme both baffled and irritated me. We’d broken up months ago, after a fiery argument that half the town seemed to catch wind of, yet apparently she believed I’d still dance to her tune.

With a weary sigh, I flopped down in my creaky office chair and fired up the ancient computer, scanning my email for any new booking requests. The travel site I partnered with had sent a couple of inquiries—weekend snowshoe treks and an overnight camping trip for next month. I should have feltrelieved to see more business coming in, but all I could do was rub the back of my neck and wonder if Angelique would sabotage me the way she nearly had before.

Our relationship had been tumultuous from day one, built on mutual love of excitement but lacking real substance. We hiked, rafted, she posted flashy photos…then I discovered we had little in common once the adrenaline fizzled. Our final clash had been a spectacle outside Skyline Bar & Grill—my best friend Levi’s place, no less. Angelique had filmed me storming off on her phone and then promptly posted a teary “update” about how I’d left her heartbroken. Watching that fiasco spread like wildfire around the town made me vow to never let my personal life become a public soap opera again.

Before I could dive deeper into the scheduling, my office door swung open with a loud creak. My stomach clenched. I already suspected who it might be, and sure enough, Angelique stepped inside, brushing her platinum-blonde hair off her fur-lined hood.

“Wow, it’s freezing out there,” she announced, shutting the door behind her. Her voice echoed in the small space. “Your sign said ‘open,’ so I figured I’d come in.”

I forced a polite smile, though inside I was bristling. “Angelique,” I greeted, leaning back in my chair. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

---