My Mountain Man Valentine (Be My Fake Valentine Story)

Chapter Seven

TESSA

We left The Velvet Book in a rush, the CLOSED sign flipped and the door firmly locked behind us. My heart still pounded from reading the last Valentine. I couldn’t erase its words from my mind: You don’t belong with him…You won’t be his for long . It felt like an invasion, as if someone had stepped right into my personal world with hateful intent. And the worst part was, I wasn’t sure who was behind it.

Ryder guided me into his truck, his dark eyes flicking around the street. I knew he was utilizing his outdoorsman skills to assess our surroundings for potential threats. Only this time, instead of Mother Nature’s wrath, we were dealing with a human’s. A few lampposts illuminated Main Street’s slushy sidewalks, though no one seemed to be out at this hour. Overhead, clouds hung low, hinting at more snow. I drew in a shaky breath as he turned the key and the truck’s engine roared to life.

“We’ll tell Levi first,” Ryder said quietly, pulling away from the curb and merging onto the main road. “I know you’re nervous, but he has to know about these letters—every detail. And…about us.”

My stomach clenched at the thought of revealing our fake arrangement. Up until now, I’d held on to the idea that maybe what was happening between us would remain our secret. At least until I’d wrapped my mind around it myself. It was all so new, and I wished we could just enjoy our newfound connection privately for a little while longer. But the letters had forced a reckoning. Someone clearly watched me enough to reference my nights with Ryder, so continuing to hide the truth from my brother felt pointless.

“I’ll do it,” I said, voice raw. “I’ll explain everything. I just…I have no clue how Levi will react.”

Ryder’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “He’ll be angry, but he cares more about your safety than anything else. That’ll override his anger. Right?”

I exhaled a bit too forcefully. “He’s never been easy to read when it comes to me. After our parents…you know. He took on the role of protector. He hates feeling out of the loop.”

Ryder’s jaw flexed, the muscles standing out under his skin. “I get it. Let’s just be honest. It’s the only way forward.”

I shifted, hugging my coat closer. The swirl of the heater didn’t fully banish the cold dread inside me. The truck sped past dim storefronts, each sign turned off for the night. Outside Skyline Bar the anxiety of the day wore me down. I eyed the clock—past eleven. “We should head home soon.”

He agreed with a grim tilt of his head. “Let me just use the restroom first. You going to be okay for a minute?”

I mustered a weary grin. “I’ll be fine.” He left the bar area, weaving through a few chatty customers. I let my gaze drift over the crowd, tension never fully letting go of my muscles. Somewhere, a jukebox hummed an old country ballad about heartbreak and dusty roads.

Levi approached, wiping his hands on a rag. “How you holding up?” he asked, voice lower than usual.

I shrugged. “Better now that you know. I hated lying.”

His scowl softened. “I get that you wanted to keep it quiet. But next time, just talk to me before it escalates.” He braced a hand on the bar, leaning closer. “Ryder was my best friend—maybe still is—even though we’ve followed different paths these last few years. He may be too wild for my liking—especially where you’re concerned—but I know he’s a good guy. We’ll figure out who’s messing with you. If it’s Angelique, we’ll handle her. If it’s someone else, we’ll find that out too.”

“Thank you.” Warmth flickered in my chest at his direct reassurance. “I appreciate it more than you know.”

Levi glanced around, eyes narrowing as if scanning for any sign of trouble. “Head home soon, get some rest. Don’t overthink it tonight.”

Easier said than done, but I nodded. “Right. We’ll leave in a minute.”

Ryder returned, but before we could finalize our exit, the front door swung open again. A hush rippled among a few tables near the entrance. My breath caught, half expecting a menacing figure. Instead, Angelique waltzed in, phone in hand, filming the Valentine décor with elaborate care.

I stiffened. She was all glossy lips and perfect sleek blonde hair, wearing an expression that teetered between pleasant and predatory. She circled a table, capturing footage of a couple sipping drinks, then panned her phone around the bar. I avoided her gaze, though I felt her attention land on me.

Ryder stood behind me like a silent wall. Angelique drew closer, her camera still recording. She paused near Levi’s station at the bar, exchanging a falsely sweet smile with him. He barely concealed his distaste. For a moment, I feared she might march up to us. But she only hovered, filming random tidbits: the liquor shelves, a small vase of plastic roses someone had stuck on the bar, the cluster of pink hearts taped to the wall.

“Lovely vibe for the holiday,” she said to no one in particular, her tone dripping with saccharine. “I’m sure this place will be packed in a couple nights. All these adorable couples, so eager to share the secrets in their hearts.”

I braced myself for a confrontation or a snide comment about me and Ryder. But Angelique merely smiled once more, then pivoted, phone pointed at Levi’s neat row of beer taps. Without so much as a real word to us, she turned on her high heel and glided out, the door shutting behind her with a muffled thud.

Ryder let out a breath. “That was bizarre.”

Levi grunted. “Filming more nonsense for her feed, no doubt.”

Ryder squeezed my hand. “I think we’ve had enough for tonight. Let’s head home.”

Levi nodded in agreement. “Go. I’ll close up soon. Text me if anything else happens.”

The drive back to my place was mostly silent, both of us lost in thought. When Ryder parked at my house, the porch light cast a gentle glow on the snow piled around the steps. No pink envelope awaited me this time—thankful for small mercies. We walked inside, locking the door behind us. The tension in my shoulders refused to dissolve, as if a new wave of unease clung to me.

Ryder grabbed the kettle, filling it with water for tea. “I’ll stay for a while, if you want,” he offered softly. “Or all night. I just…don’t want you alone.”

I swallowed. “All night,” I said, voice catching. “Please.” The memory of last night’s letter still burned in my mind. Knowing we’d told Levi relieved some guilt but worry still lingered.

He nodded, setting the kettle on the stove. The hiss of water heating filled the quiet kitchen, and I hovered near him, arms crossed to hold in the tremors. A part of me dreaded the next letter’s arrival, but I forced those fears away. I refused to dwell on hypotheticals, not when my entire day had already been consumed by them.

I pulled out two mugs, focusing on the simple task of scooping tea leaves. My voice came out low. “Thanks for being patient when we talked to Levi. I know he was a little intense.”

Ryder shook his head. “He had a right to be upset.” He lifted the mug from my hands, setting it down gently on the counter. “But we did the right thing telling him now. This is bigger than any initial scheme. Whoever’s writing these notes isn’t stopping. But I won’t let anybody corner you again. Not without me right there.”

Warmth rushed through me. I closed my eyes briefly, reminding myself I wasn’t facing this alone, grateful that I had both my brother and my new boyfriend—if I could call him that—beside me.

The kettle whistled, startling me. Ryder turned off the stove, pouring hot water into our mugs. We carried them to the living room, settling onto the couch. Steam curled in front of me, the tea’s aroma soothing but not enough to quell the anxiety fully. I sipped carefully, letting the warmth coat my throat. Despite the soothing taste of chamomile, my nerves still twitched from everything we’d shared with Levi—and from the memory of that final, ominous Valentine. Ryder sat close enough that I could feel his body heat, which was its own kind of comfort. I kept thinking that if I stretched out my hand, I could clasp his fingers and block out the threat lurking behind pink stationery.

Outside, the wind nudged a thin drift of snow against the windows. I glanced at the front door, triple-checking that the deadbolt was locked. I was done taking chances.

Ryder seemed to notice my apprehension. “You want to talk about it?” he asked gently, setting his mug on the coffee table. His voice was a subdued rumble, like he was wary of breaking the hush.

I shrugged, the tension in my shoulders refusing to budge. “Not sure there’s more to say. Levi knows the truth about our arrangement, and he’s upset, but at least he’s not kicking me out of town. As for the letters…”

A faint growl slipped into Ryder’s tone. “We’ll find out who’s sending them. You have my word.”

I forced a small smile. “Thank you. Even so, I can’t believe how quickly everything spiraled. Just a week ago, all I had to worry about was stocking romance novels before Valentine’s Day. Now I’m juggling secrecy, threats, and… us.”

“Us,” he echoed, the word hanging between us with quiet significance.

My pulse skittered. The entire reason for our “fake dating” had been overshadowed by real desire. Each time we touched, I lost my bearings. The memory of his bed, his hands on my skin, made my cheeks flame hot. Even now, I couldn’t banish the craving that pulsed whenever Ryder was near.

He seemed to read my thoughts. Shifting closer, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. My heart kicked up a notch at the way his warmth seeped into me. Leaning my head against him felt instinctive—like we’d been doing this for years instead of days. The edges of the room blurred, leaving only him and the low lamplight.

“Levi might’ve been pissed we kept it from him,” Ryder murmured, his breath stirring the hair above my ear. “But at least he’s on our side now. No more lies.”

I exhaled shakily. “No more lies,” I agreed. “Feels better that way.”

We sat there for a moment, content in the semi-darkness. His thumb traced a slow arc on my shoulder, sending small shivers of awareness down my spine. Part of me wanted to drag him back into the bedroom, lose ourselves again. But exhaustion still gnawed at me, and I sensed the same in him—a mix of desire and weariness that made the idea of simply falling asleep in his arms almost as appealing as more.

Eventually, I set my empty mug aside and slipped off the couch. “I’m turning in,” I murmured. “I can’t keep my eyes open much longer.”

Ryder stood too, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “I’ll stay on the couch if you’d rather have space tonight,” he offered quietly. “Whatever makes you feel safe.”

I hesitated, recalling the quiet pleasure of waking up with him the previous morning. The last vestiges of tension in me yearned for that comfort. “Stay with me,” I said, barely louder than a whisper. “I… don’t want to be alone yet.”

His gaze softened. “Then that’s settled.”

We double-checked the locks and turned out the lights, every step reminding me that we weren’t just staging a show. This might have started as a performance for Angelique, but now it was two people navigating an unforeseen connection. If someone was still lurking out there—watching, leaving menacing notes—I refused to let them take away the one bright spot in this whole mess.

Once in my bedroom, Ryder shrugged off his flannel and toed out of his boots, moving with languid grace. I switched on the small bedside lamp, its muted glow highlighting the planes of his face. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The night air felt heavy with unspoken possibilities, the same pull that had led to last night’s heated encounter at his cabin. A gentle ache of anticipation coiled in my belly, but fatigue and worry weighed on me too.

When I slipped under the covers, Ryder joined me, settling close without pressing for anything more. His arm draped around my waist like a protective anchor. The rhythmic sound of his breathing wrapped me in a sense of safety I craved.

“You all right?” he asked again, voice barely above a murmur.

A soft smile touched my lips. “Better,” I whispered. And I meant it. Whatever turmoil awaited us in the morning—whether it was dealing with Angelique’s schemes or unmasking the Valentine writer—right now, I felt secure in the hush of my bedroom. With Ryder’s warmth at my back, I finally let my eyelids flutter closed.