My Mountain Man Valentine (Be My Fake Valentine Story)

Chapter Five

TESSA

I opened my eyes to the pale light of morning beginning to edge through my curtains. Normally, I savored that gentle start to the day—letting my mind wander in the warmth of my blankets before the bustle of the bookstore took over. Yet today, my thoughts zeroed in on one thing: the memory of last night’s date with Ryder at Skyline Bar & Grill.

For a fake couple, we’d sure managed to feel authentic. My cheeks still heated thinking of how seamlessly his arm had slipped around me in the booth, or the way he teased me in a

low voice that only I could hear. More than once I’d caught myself laughing in genuine delight, forgetting this was all for show. But the real highlight—and the part my heart refused to forget—was when he brushed a featherlight kiss on my temple as he said goodnight. I could practically feel the imprint of his lips even now.

Shaking off the lingering warmth, I got up and got ready. My reflection in the bathroom mirror looked a bit too flushed for someone who was pretending. Stay focused, I told myself as I pulled my hair into a messy ponytail. Angelique is the whole reason for this plan. If we convinced her we were serious, she’d back off Ryder. Simple as that.

Or not so simple, a little voice inside me countered. Because the more time I spent with Ryder—real or pretend—the more complicated my own feelings became.

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The bookstore felt extra cozy this morning, and I had just turned on the lights when I noticed an envelope near the base of the door, as if someone had slipped it underneath. A flicker of curiosity raced through me. Normally, deliveries came through the back or were left in my mailbox.

I knelt to pick it up. It was a plain, pink envelope with no return address, my name scrawled across it in an elegant, swirling script: Tessa.

My pulse quickened. This didn’t look like typical junk mail, and nobody else was in the bookstore yet to claim it. I tore the envelope open carefully, revealing a small Valentine’s card decorated with a single, glossy heart on the front. Inside, the text was handwritten:

Tessa,

You have no idea how you captivate me. Your shy smiles, your quiet strength… It makes me want to know every hidden piece of you.

—Your Secret Admirer

My cheeks warmed, and my heart fluttered. For a moment, I toyed with the idea that Ryder had left it—maybe he was stepping up the relationship in a romantic flourish. But then I remembered how direct he’d been about everything so far. Would he be so secretive?

I scanned the note again, looking for any small clue: style of handwriting, a faint scent, a brand name on the card. Nothing. Just a simple pink background and words that felt surprisingly…bold. Slipping it back into the envelope, I tucked it under the register, deciding not to mention it to anyone just yet. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

A couple of customers breezed in soon after, peppering me with small talk about the latest books they’d read. I rang up their purchases, trying to shake off the lingering sense of mystery from that unsigned note. Yet every time the bell over the door jingled, I half-expected Ryder to appear, or—worse—Angelique.

Instead, around mid-morning, Levi walked in. A prickle of anxiety tugged at my stomach, because I knew he’d probably seen me and Ryder last night. He headed straight to the counter, his brow furrowed.

“Hey,” I said softly, bracing myself. “Everything all right at the bar?”

“Sure,” he said, but the tension in his eyes told me otherwise. “I just…wanted to talk.”

My gaze flicked around to ensure no one else was near. “We can go to the reading nook,” I suggested. He nodded, so I led him to the quieter corner where the two plush armchairs waited. He sank into one, leaning forward with both elbows on his knees. “I saw you with Ryder last night, Tessa.”

I swallowed, trying to maintain an outward calm. “I figured you did.”

“You two looked…close,” Levi continued, his jaw tight. “Are you really dating him? Because this seems kind of sudden.”

At that, my chest constricted with guilt. We are…but not really? I thought. “Levi, I know this might seem out of the blue. But we’ve known each other forever. We all grew up together, remember? Well, we’re not little kids anymore. Ryder and I ran into each other the other day and started talking. One thing just led to another, and we agreed to meet up for dinner. It was nice.” Understatement of the year, I added silently, recalling Ryder’s lips brushing my temple.

Levi’s gaze hardened, as though searching my face for cracks in the story. “And Angelique being in town has nothing to do with it?”

My spine stiffened. I tried not to let panic show. “I mean, she’s part of Ryder’s past, sure, but this is about him and me. I’m not exactly letting Angelique run my life.” Again, no outright lies, but carefully steering away from the fake arrangement truth.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “I just don’t want you roped into some drama you’ll regret. You know how reckless Ryder can be, and Angelique does have a social media following. I wouldn’t want them to put you in any situation that could possibly jeopardize the bookstore.”

A spark of defensiveness flared inside me. “Ryder’s not the same teenage boy who used to jump off rock ledges into freezing lakes, Levi. He’s…matured a lot. And so have I. Give us some credit.”

A muscle in Levi’s jaw twitched, but he pushed himself to his feet. “Fine. Just be careful, Tessa. I don’t want you hurt.”

For a moment, I felt a pang of tenderness for my brother. He’d stepped into a protector role after our parents died, and old habits died hard. “I know,” I said gently, standing as well. “But you have to trust me to make my own decisions.”

He studied me for a moment longer, then gave a curt nod. “All right. Let me know if anything weird happens with Angelique. She was asking around at Skyline about you two.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered, a knot forming in my gut. “I’ll let you know.”

With that, Levi left, tension still radiating off him. I pressed a hand to my chest, inhaling slowly to steady my nerves. If only you knew the half of it, I thought grimly.

About an hour later, just as my anxiety threatened to spiral, Ryder showed up. The store had quieted after lunch, leaving only one or two browsers flipping pages. My heart gave an involuntary leap at the sight of him—windswept hair, sturdy boots, and that self-assured way he moved.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, stopping near the local history section. “I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail.”

“Oh…Sorry,” I said, fishing my phone out of my apron. “I must’ve left it on silent.” My nerves about Levi and the mysterious Valentine had pushed all thoughts of phone calls from my mind. “Everything okay?”

He tucked his hands in his pockets, glancing around to ensure no prying ears were too close. “Yeah, just wanted to check on you. After last night…well, I saw Levi’s face. Figured he might give you a hard time today.”

I couldn’t help a small laugh—relieved that Ryder was so attuned. “He did stop by. Let’s just say my brother’s less than thrilled but not forbidding me from seeing you.” I paused, feeling my cheeks warm at the word seeing. It sounded so…real.

Ryder’s lips curved in a small grin. “That’s better than I expected. Levi usually doesn’t do ‘middle ground’ too well.” He moved closer, lowering his voice so no passing customer could overhear. “If anything about last night has you spooked…especially Angelique nosing around town…just let me know.”

His concern made my heart flutter again. I hated hiding the truth, but it was necessary. Besides, the biggest thing on my mind right now wasn’t Angelique at all, but the secret Valentine note I’d found that morning. “I will,” I promised, forcing a lightness into my tone. “And thanks. Last night…it felt easy. Almost too easy.”

Ryder gave a gentle chuckle. “Yeah, I’m starting to think we’re pretty good at this. Maybe too good.”

Heat rose in my face. “Well, as long as it convinces your ex we’re for real.” I caught myself and shrugged. “Anyway, I should get back to work. I’ve got some new titles to shelve.”

He nodded but didn’t move for a moment, gaze lingering on me with quiet intensity that made my stomach flip. “Text me if you need me,” he said at last. “I’ll probably be out guiding a short hike later, but I’ll be free this evening.”

“Okay,” I said softly. I found myself wishing we didn’t have to hide behind the word fake. Part of me wanted to pull him into the stockroom for a stolen kiss. But that was ridiculous. We were just…acting, right?

He offered a subtle grin and stepped away. I watched him leave, taking in the broad line of his shoulders and the confident way he walked. Then I turned, heart pounding, to ring up the next customer, forcing a professional smile even though my mind buzzed with thoughts of him.

That afternoon, traffic in the bookstore slowed. Around closing time, I took the trash out to the alley. A biting breeze whipped through the narrow passage, carrying a faint swirl of snow. As I returned, I spotted something on the ground near the back door—another pink envelope with my name in that same looping script.

A shiver coursed through me. Carefully, I picked it up and ducked into the warm interior of The Velvet Book, glancing around to ensure no one had followed me. My heart pounded. Two in one day?

Behind the locked doors, I tore open the envelope. My skin prickled when I read the note:

Tessa,

I can’t stop thinking about you. But it’s not enough just to watch you. I want more.

Soon—very soon—we will happen.

—Your Secret Admirer

We will happen. The phrase felt bold, almost demanding. My previous flush of curiosity morphed into unease. Even if this was meant to be seductive, something about the tone set my nerves on edge. Watch you. Did that mean whoever wrote this had been…following me?

A lump formed in my throat. This definitely didn’t sound like Ryder. The first note had been flattering, a little forward—but this one walked the line between ardent and menacing. No way was this his style. I didn’t suspect Angelique, either. She was brash and attention-seeking, not the type to pose as an amorous secret admirer. And if she wanted to rattle me, she’d probably do it on camera, not with a pair of pink envelopes.

Then who? A flicker of paranoia gripped me. Could it be some lonely customer? A stranger passing through town who’d spied me at Skyline last night? A different local I’d known for years but never noticed?

I tucked the note into my bag and tried to calm the storm in my chest. A few minutes later, I pulled my coat on, locked up the bookstore, and headed to my car. The back of my neck tingled with the feeling of being watched, but I saw no one. Just a swirl of snow under the streetlights.

I debated going straight home but found myself behind the wheel, thumbing a text to Ryder:

Hey. Are you at your place? I need to talk.

A minute later, his response arrived:

Ryder: Just got home from the hike. Come by. Everything okay?

Not sure…I’ll explain in person.

My heart wouldn’t stop pounding as I drove toward Ryder’s small, rustic cabin on the outskirts of Hope Peak. Wind rattled the tree branches overhead, and the night sky gleamed with faint stars. I tried to breathe steadily, but each time I thought of that second note—Soon—very soon—we will happen—my pulse kicked up again. Then again, I was an avid reader of mystery and crime fiction, so my overactive imagination was probably running away with me.

Ryder’s cabin lights glowed invitingly as I parked. The porch lamp revealed footprints leading up to his door, presumably from his truck to the front step. My nerves twanged when I climbed out, clutching my bag with both Valentines inside.

He opened the door before I could knock, concern etched across his handsome features. “Tessa. You okay?” He reached for my elbow, gently guiding me inside. The warmth hit me immediately, along with the scent of burning wood from his fireplace.

I swallowed, nodding a shy greeting. “Hey. Sorry to just…show up.”

“Don’t apologize.” He closed the door behind me, eyes scanning my face. “Come sit. Want something hot to drink?”

I managed a shaky laugh. “Tea, if you have it. My nerves are kind of… on alert.”

His frown deepened. “You want to tell me what happened?”

We moved to the living area, the low crackle of logs in the fireplace lending a soft glow to the cabin. I eased onto his worn leather couch, setting my bag down. “I got two… Valentines today,” I explained. “The first one seemed sweet—flirty. But the second—” I pulled them out, hesitating before handing them over. “It’s more intense. Feels… off.”

Ryder perched beside me, skimming the notes under the flickering lamplight. His expression darkened, jaw tightening. “This is…definitely not me.”

“I know,” I murmured. “But that leaves a bigger question: who?”

He shook his head, carefully returning the envelopes to my bag as though not wanting to damage any evidence. “I don’t like the vibe of that second note,” he said grimly. “Could be somebody fixating on you—someone who saw us together last night and got jealous, or just some creep.”

My stomach twisted at the thought. “I hate feeling paranoid, but I do. I’m not sure what to do. Show them to Levi? Or the cops? That might be too much if this is just…misguided flirting.”

Ryder set a hand over mine. The warmth of his palm steadied me more than I wanted to admit. “Let me handle the ‘who,’ okay? I’ll keep my eyes open. If you see anything suspicious, you call me. Day or night.”

I nodded, swallowing a lump in my throat. “Thanks. I know we said this was all for show, but… I’m really glad you’re here.”

His gaze softened. “Me too.” He slid closer, still holding my hand. “Tessa, I’m sorry. I hope I haven’t led you into a bad situation.”

A wave of emotion surged in my chest. “I just…I don’t want to feel watched,” I whispered. He shifted, lifting his free hand to cup my cheek, and my breath caught at the soft graze of his calloused palm against my skin. In the gentle lamplight of the cabin, his eyes glowed dark and intent, as if he wanted to chase away every trace of fear. Just a moment ago, I’d been trembling over ominous letters and secret admirers, but now all I could focus on was the warmth of his body and the quiet authority in his gaze.

“You won’t be alone,” he said, voice low and steady. “I’ll watch out for you, Tessa. Always.”

A sudden tension vibrated through me, drawn taut like a bowstring ready to snap. Every sense honed in on him: the heat radiating off his torso, the way his thumb brushed along my jawline, the faint smell of woodsmoke lingering in his clothes. A memory flashed of his gentle kiss on my temple the night before, how it had left me hungry for more. Now, that unspoken want flared into something I could no longer ignore.

I started to speak his name—“Ryder”—but the rest died on my tongue when he leaned in. His lips met mine in a featherlight kiss, a brief, teasing press that ended too soon, leaving a pulse of heat behind. My heart hammered, and I could taste the trace of coffee he’d sipped earlier on his breath. For an instant, I hesitated—our entire setup was supposed to be fake—but instead of pulling away, I found myself leaning forward, breath catching in anticipation.

He kissed me again, more firmly this time, and that was all it took for a coil of desire to tighten in my lower belly. His hand slid from my cheek to the nape of my neck, fingers threading through my hair, guiding me closer. I responded eagerly, pressing against the hard planes of his chest, feeling the warmth of his pectoral muscles under my fingertips. A quiet sound—half moan, half sigh—escaped me, and I could sense the low rumble of approval in his throat.

His other arm wrapped around my waist, drawing me in until my breasts brushed against him through my sweater. A shiver rolled through me at that hint of friction, and I arched my back slightly, wanting more than just a fleeting touch. My mind, once cluttered with menacing notes and carefully staged dating, emptied of everything but the slow burn igniting between us.

“Tessa,” he whispered, voice thick with intent. His lips trailed across my jaw, down to the sensitive spot below my ear, sending sparks racing along my nerves. I let my head fall back, giving him full access to the curve of my neck. He took advantage of it, kissing and nibbling a path to my collarbone. Each soft bite made me clutch at the back of his shirt, my breaths turning shallow and urgent.

The couch seemed too confining for the heat swelling between us. Neither of us spoke, but we both understood that we couldn’t stay perched on the edge of these cushions forever. In a flurry of motion—an entanglement of limbs and gasping kisses—we rose to our feet. He guided me backward, step by step, until we reached the small hallway leading to the bedroom. My pulse throbbed in my ears, a steady drumbeat matching the rush of blood beneath my skin.

As we stumbled across the threshold, he flicked on a bedside lamp. Its soft glow revealed his taut form, the shadows of his shoulders and arms playing across the walls. My gaze flicked down, lingering on the cut of his abdomen visible through the open neck of his flannel shirt, and I felt a surge of raw desire.

We paused, tension palpable. He gripped the hem of my sweater and murmured, “Is this okay?” His eyes searched mine, a mixture of fierce hunger and tender caution.

Wordlessly, I nodded, hands already reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Within moments, layers of clothing began to fall: my sweater, his flannel, the T-shirt I wore underneath. Heat flushed my cheeks when he peeled the garment away, baring my bra and the slope of my stomach. I caught him staring, eyes darkening as he took in the sight of my skin. Emboldened, I slid my fingers down his chest, feeling the ridges of muscle and scattering of hair, the dip beneath his sternum that made him inhale sharply.

His palms found my waist, tracing the gentle curve until he reached my hips. Then his fingers splayed, pulling me closer. Our kiss deepened, tongues meeting in a slow, deliberate dance. A throbbing need pulsed between my thighs, and I angled my pelvis against him, wanting to feel every solid inch of his body. He let out a low groan, a sweet, desperate sound that fueled my courage.

Somehow, my hands moved to his belt, fumbling briefly before undoing the buckle. His breath hitched when I slid my fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans, skimming the firm planes of his abdomen. The small friction of my knuckles against his skin made him tremble. He tugged at the waistband of my leggings, gently working them down past my hips, over my thighs, until they pooled at my ankles. By then, we were both panting, our breath mingling in the hush of the winter night.

We tumbled onto the bed in a flurry of limbs, my back pressed into the soft sheets. Ryder loomed over me, gaze raking across my body as if he wanted to memorize every curve, every dip of flesh. He lowered his head, lips brushing the swell of my breast above my bra, and I let out a shaky gasp, arching up into him. My fingers raked through his hair, clutching when his mouth roamed across the upper curves of my chest, peppering kisses that left tingles in their wake.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he managed, voice husky and unsteady, as though one wrong move might shatter his control.

“Don’t you dare stop,” I breathed, hooking a leg around his waist. Even through the remaining sliver of clothing, the heated press of his thigh against mine made me ache with longing.

A rumbling groan tore from his throat. He captured my lips in a fierce, claiming kiss, pinning me to the mattress with the weight of his body. The brush of his stomach against my bare midriff, the rake of his knuckles along my ribcage—every touch stoked a deeper flame. My nipples tightened beneath my bra, and I moaned, needing him to undo the clasp. He obliged, hands skating around my back, fumbling only briefly before freeing me from the final barrier.

The sensation of my breasts meeting his naked chest made me gasp, delight crackling across my nerve endings. He whispered my name again, reverent, as his mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along my sternum, then my stomach. I trembled, threading my fingers into his hair, overwhelmed by the rush of pleasure each caress unlocked.

In a few breathless moments, the last scraps of clothing fell away, and we were skin to skin, flush from shoulders to ankles. My body felt like a live wire, every inch of me tuned to the rasp of his breath, the press of his thighs framing my own. The pace of our movements danced between frantic and languid, shifting whenever we paused to savor the moment—a slow, bruising kiss, a whispered phrase of encouragement, a heated glance that spoke volumes we hadn’t yet dared to say aloud.

I felt the hard lines of his hips settle against mine, and my head tipped back in an involuntary cry, an invitation for him to keep going. The hot slide of him moving in tandem with my body left my mind hazy. Urgency built in my core, swirling with each deep, rolling movement. Soft gasps slipped from my lips, turning into breathless whimpers as I met his rhythm.

He let out a strangled sound of pleasure, pressing his forehead to mine as we clung to each other, chest to chest, hearts hammering out a tribal beat. My hands roamed over his shoulders, down the length of his back, reveling in the tautness of his muscles. We moved in perfect coordination, an unspoken language of give and take that tightened the coil inside me. Eventually, a wave of pure bliss crashed over my senses, wrenching a cry of release from my throat. Ryder groaned against my neck, following me over that same precipice, his entire frame taut with the force of it.

For a timeless moment, neither of us spoke, only the echo of ragged breathing and the faint crackle of the fireplace filling the air. Heat throbbed between our bodies, and a soft glow of satisfaction lit up the edges of my thoughts. I lay there, muscles quivering, realizing that we’d broken every boundary that once defined our “fake” arrangement—and I didn’t regret it for a single second.

Finally, our breathing steadied. Ryder shifted, rolling onto his side to gaze at me. His palm found my cheek again, thumb stroking a path along my jaw. In his dark eyes, I saw a blend of adoration and wonder, reflecting the heady swirl of emotions coursing through my own veins.

“You all right?” he asked, voice tender.

I nodded, exhaling a shaky laugh. “I’m better than all right,” I murmured. My chest still rose and fell with post-climax tremors, a soft afterglow settling over me like a warm blanket. “Thank you.”

He smiled, a slow, contented curve of his lips that set my heart fluttering anew. “I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he whispered. Bending closer, he brushed a gentle kiss across my forehead, then lingered on my mouth, a sweet, lingering caress that contrasted the earlier urgency.

We lay there wrapped in each other, the hush of the evening cradling us. The memory of menacing letters and hidden threats flickered somewhere at the edges of my mind, but in that moment, the only thing I cared about was how safe and cherished I felt in Ryder’s arms. Tomorrow might bring fresh worries, but tonight, under the intimate golden glow of the bedside lamp, we had forged a new truth: what began as a ruse had ignited into something real.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled at our limbs, and we sank deeper into the pillows. With one last, languid kiss and the comforting press of his broad chest against my back, we drifted off into a tangle of arms and legs, lulled by the crackling fireplace and the quiet rhythm of our shared breathing.