Page 4 of Marrying the Mountain Man

He nodded, lips tightening. “I’ll call Tessa as soon as possible. Maybe she can fix some of this. Or at least explain how she thought this was a good idea.”

At the mention of Tessa, a pang of betrayal surfaced. I hadn’t met the woman, but she’d effectively turned my entire life upside down. The kids had pinned their hopes on a father figure, and I’d pinned mine on a stable home in the mountains. Now it was a messy improvisation scene that threatened to undermine everything.

Yet… as I glanced at Levi’s profile—strong nose, trimmed beard along that firm jaw, a determined set to his brow—I couldn’t ignore a spark of something beyond frustration. He was undeniably attractive, in a rugged, no-nonsense way that made me wonder if Tessa’s meddling might actually align with some cosmic sense of humor. Perhaps, beneath the inconvenience, there was a faint shimmer of possibility.Or maybe you’re just delirious from the cold and embarrassment, I scolded myself.

Connor suddenly blurted from the couch, “You guys are super quiet. This is so weird. Can we watch TV or something while we wait for pizza?”

Levi blinked like he’d momentarily forgotten the twins existed. “Uh, sure.” He turned back to me. “Is that okay with you?”

I spread my hands in a why not? gesture. “Go for it, guys. Just keep the volume reasonable.”

I settled onto the couch, the twins crowding on either side of me. Levi moved quietly around the kitchen, preparing that pepperoni pizza with steady hands. My eyes drifted over him once more—those shoulders, that broad back, the occasional flex of muscle. My dread still lingered, but a wisp of humor and reluctant comfort took its place, weaving through the tension like a subtle thread. Maybe, in the end, we’d find our new beginning here after all.

Chapter Two

LEVI

I woke to the sound of muffled squabbling and the sweet smell of frosting. For a solid five seconds, I forgot I’d fallen asleep on my own couch with a family of three under my roof. Then a twin’s voice rang out—loud, shrill, and definitely not my usual morning soundtrack.

“Mom! He’s hogging all the Pop-Tarts!”

Blinking against the morning light, I pushed myself upright. My back complained about the couch cushions, and I glanced around, already a little disoriented. My usually quiet living room felt like it had shrunk overnight, now filled with energy I’d never invited. Or at least, never intentionally invited. Tessa, that

brat, apparently had other plans for me.

Another voice rose from the kitchen area. “Mom, these are the best kind! Strawberry frosted! I call dibs!”

Rolling my neck to ease the stiffness, I stood and padded into the kitchen. Sure enough, eight-year-old Connor and Cody were perched at my small dining table, each with a half-eaten Pop-Tart. Between them, Mindy was attempting order—though the way her ponytail skewed sideways suggested it hadn’t been going well.

“Good morning,” I said, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Mindy shot me a quick, apologetic smile. “Morning, Levi. Sorry if we woke you. The boys discovered your Pop-Tart stash.”

“I’m not sorry,” Cody muttered, mouth full. “They’re so good.”

I had to swallow a grin. “I see that.” I turned toward Mindy. “You don’t need to apologize. My place might be small, but we’ll manage.”

I still wasn’t fully over the fact that my sister had impersonated me on a dating app—Mountain Mates—and effectively catfished Mindy and her kids into relocating to Montana. Part of me was furious. Another part—the part currently noticing how pretty Mindy looked in a simple sweatshirt—couldn’t help but wonder if Tessa’s meddling might have had some twisted logic behind it.

Mindy brushed a lock of auburn hair off her cheek and glanced at the boys, then back at me. “I know you said the Pop-Tarts are no big deal, but I’d hate to let them skip a real breakfast.” She bit her lip, considering. “Would you mind if I cooked? I can whip up pancakes, maybe sausage?”

“You cook?” I asked, more surprised than I intended.

She lifted an eyebrow, half-amused. “I do. Believe it or not, cooking is kind of my stress relief. And I have plenty of stress right now, as you might imagine.”

A laugh escaped me before I could tamp it down. “Sure. I won’t say no to a home-cooked meal.”

“Thanks.” Mindy exhaled, like she was relieved I’d agreed. Then she turned to the twins. “Boys, two Pop-Tarts max. Then we’re switching to real food.”

Connor made a face but nodded. Cody shrugged good-naturedly. “If it’s got syrup, I’m cool.”

I found myself smiling as Mindy rummaged through my cupboards and fridge, looking for pancake mix and anything else she might need. It was disorienting, sure, having them here, but not entirely in a bad way. A part of me liked the unexpected bustle in my usually silent mornings.

Within minutes, the kitchen smelled like sizzling sausage and sweet batter. Mindy hummed under her breath as she worked, occasionally shooting the boys a mild warning glance if they teased each other too loudly.

I figured I might as well help. Sliding up beside her at the counter, I grabbed a spatula. “Want me to flip those pancakes?”

She appeared startled for a second but smiled gratefully. “Sure, thanks. My arms are busy with the sausage. Watch the edges, the heat’s a bit high.”

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