Page 1 of My Mountain Man Valentine

Chapter One

TESSA

A light flurry of snow drifted across Main Street as I turned the key in the lock of my bookstore. The little brass bell above the door gave a cheery jingle, welcoming me into The Velvet Book. The warmth of the interior instantly soothed me—the faint scent of old paper, fresh coffee from the small machine in the back, and the lingering traces of vanilla from the candle I had burned the previous evening. These were the things I loved most about opening the store on a cold Montana morning, especially in early February when the temperature hovered well below freezing.

I stomped the snow from my boots and shut the door. Outside, Hope Peak’s familiar mountains loomed in the distance, their slopes capped in fresh powder and half-shrouded by low-hanging clouds. In the soft light of morning, the peaks looked especially majestic and just a little bit foreboding. This was the time of year when Valentine’s Day fever slowly took over the town—shop windows displaying pink hearts and red roses, the local baker rolling out sugar cookies adorned with icing roses. Yet for me, Valentine’s Day always arrived with a peculiar mix of hope and unease. People called it the holiday of love, but too often, it reminded me of the losses and uncertainties that shadowed my life.

I flipped on the overhead lights, illuminating rows of tall, rustic bookshelves. The Velvet Book had been in my family since before I was born. My parents opened it decades ago, right when Hope Peak first started drawing tourists looking for winter sports and summer hiking. In all that time, much of the store had remained the same: the well-trodden wooden floors that creaked in the same places, the sturdy shelves my dad built by hand, the local photographs showing the mountains in all their breathtaking glory every season of the year. We had added modern touches—cozy reading nooks with armchairs and fairy lights, plus the small coffee station—but I could still feel my parents’ presence in every corner. Some days that comforted me more than anything else in the world; other days, I felt the ache of missing them intensify with every reminder of the past.

I reached the main counter, where I set down my keys and shrugged out of my jacket. After flicking the switch on the coffee maker, I inhaled deeply as it began to bubble and hiss, smiling at the familiar soundtrack to my morning routine. My breath slowed when I glanced at the pastel hearts taped to the shop window. Valentine’s Day brought extra foot traffic, withpeople searching for romance novels or sweet greeting cards, so I usually dressed up the store with mild, tasteful decorations. Yet the sight of those pink and red hearts always made me wonder if I would ever have my own happily-ever-after. I told myself that I was too busy running the bookstore to dwell on that thought, but my heart disagreed.

A firm knock on the glass startled me from my thoughts. I peered up to see Mrs. Clement, her coat and hat dusted with snow, waiting on the other side of the door. I hurried over to unlock it, letting in a gust of icy air as she entered.

“Good morning, Mrs. Clement,” I greeted her. “You’re out early today.”

She tugged off her gloves and blew on her hands to warm them. “My cat, Peanut, decided four in the morning was a perfect time to tap-dance on my nightstand. I thought I’d get up and be productive. Any chance you have that new thriller by Morgan Roth in yet?”

“I sure do,” I said, guiding her to theNew Releasesshelf along the far wall. She followed me closely, glancing around with the keen interest of a regular who liked to see if I had rearranged anything. “Here it is,” I said, handing her the novel.

She cradled the hardcover and chatted about local happenings as we returned to the counter. According to her, Angelique Bishop—who I’d known since grade school and who happened to be Ryder Hawke’s ex-girlfriend—had been spotted at the old sawmill, complaining about her frozen eyelashes while filming some kind of influencer video. Mrs. Clement found the whole concept both entertaining and suspicious, and I silently agreed. Angelique always had a talent for making every situation about herself.

After she left, I processed a small wave of customers. A few regulars—an older man looking for historical non-fiction, ateenage girl in search of a new fantasy series, a mother-daughter duo excited about Valentine’s Day romances. By mid-morning, the bookstore had calmed, allowing me a moment to straighten the Valentine’s display near the window. I arranged a small stack of paperbacks with bright pink and red covers, scattered some heart-shaped confetti, and propped up a few homemade bookmarks I liked to give as freebies.

While I worked, the door’s bell chimed again, and I looked up to see my brother, Levi, stepping inside. His sandy-brown hair looked slightly tousled by the wind. A puffy black jacket covered his broad shoulders, and he stomped the snow off his boots before crossing the threshold. Though he wore a faint smile, I knew something weighed on him. He almost always had a thoughtful, if slightly worried, expression on his face.

“Hey, Levi,” I said, motioning for him to join me by the counter. “You’re out and about earlier than usual.”

He let out a breath and rubbed his gloved hands together. “Truck delivery came sooner than I expected at Skyline, so I finished unloading at the pub and thought I’d come check in on you.” His hazel eyes roamed the store, noting the small holiday touches. “Got your heart displays up again,” he added in a mild teasing tone.

“As always,” I replied with a small shrug. “We do see a spike in business whenever I decorate for Valentine’s Day. People love a romantic read this time of year.”

He nodded but said nothing about that, and I sensed the tension in his silence. “Coffee?” I offered, tilting my head toward the fresh pot.

“Sure, thanks,” he replied. We moved to the reading nook near the front window for a bit of privacy. I poured him a steaming cup, and once he took a seat in a worn leather armchair, he gave me that same concerned look I knew too well.

“Word around town is that Angelique Bishop’s back,” he said. “My staff mentioned seeing her. I guess she was prancing around Skyline Bar & Grill last night, snapping photos for some new social media stunt.”

“So I’ve heard,” I murmured. I lowered myself onto the old couch across from him. “I’m not sure what she wants, but rumor has it she’s here for brand endorsements or something.”

Levi grunted. “Probably...She’s trouble.” He blew across the rim of his mug, then added, “If she ropes Ryder into one of her wild projects, I don’t want you caught in the crossfire.”

My cheeks heated at the mention of Ryder’s name. “I’m not planning to be,” I assured him carefully.

“Just…be careful.” Levi’s tone softened. He had been protective of me ever since our parents died, but sometimes it felt more like he was guarding a fragile artifact than trusting his adult sister to handle her own life. “Zebras never change their stripes. Angelique’s the type to stir up drama,” he went on, “and Ryder…well, you know how he is with extreme sports and risk-taking. With both of them in the picture, there’s bound to be trouble. Remember the fireworks when they broke up? The entire town ended up watching them shout at each other behind Skyline Bar & Grill, and then Angelique posted all those videos—Ryder storming off, her crying on camera—like it was some reality show.”

I bit my lip. Levi, Ryder, and I had known each other all our lives. Levi and Ryder had been inseparable, cutting class in their teens to conquer the nearest mountain trail or attempt some precarious stunt on the slopes. But after the plane crash that claimed our parents, Levi shifted gears. He chose responsibility over spontaneity, while Ryder stayed the same adventurous soul. I understood why Levi worried, butsometimes I wished he didn’t see me as a glass figurine poised to shatter.

“I’ll be fine,” I assured again. “Angelique’s drama is her own, and I’m just running my bookstore. Life goes on.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “All right. Just promise you’ll tell me if anything weird comes up. I know I can’t protect you from everything, but as your big brother, I still want to try.”

The genuine concern in his voice deflated any irritation I felt. “I promise,” I said gently. I stood, smoothing my sweater. “Now, I should probably check on the counter before more customers come in.”

He took the hint, finishing his coffee. After a tight, quick hug, he left, pausing at the door to glance back as though verifying I was truly okay. I offered a reassuring wave. Once he disappeared into the snowy street, I shook my head, both fond and exasperated. Levi meant well, but I longed to prove I could handle my own life—and maybe even a bit of risk.

About ten minutes later, the door opened again. This time, it was my best friend, Caroline Belle. She swept in on a swirl of cold air, her honey-blonde hair pulled into a neat ponytail, cheeks rosy from the chill outside. Caroline taught at Hope Peak Middle School and possessed an innate warmth that made everyone around her feel at ease.

“Caroline!” I greeted, crossing the store to meet her. “Did you get a snow day?”

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