DEAR MOUNTAIN MAN: A Curvy Girl Romance (SINCERELY YOURS Book 9)

  DEAR MOUNTAIN MAN

  SINCERELY YOURS SERIES

  LANA DASH

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  Also By Lana Dash

  About the Author

  DEAR MOUNTAIN MAN is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by LANA DASH

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author/publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  JADA

  It’s weird how an act of Mother Nature could lead me down a path of an existential crisis, all before my afternoon coffee jolt has kicked in. And yet, here I am, sitting at one of the small tables near the front of my shop, watching Alden Morrison up on a ladder patching up my ceiling and having just that.

  I purchased The Roasted Bean when it was still the hardware store from Mr. Jacobs before he retired. I intended to fix the roof that Fall, but the shop didn't take off initially as much as I'd hoped, and the repairs just kept getting put on the back burner until I had the funds to fix it. But Mother Nature had other plans when a big storm blew through town a few days ago, and some large branches punched a hole in the ceiling of my shop—and here we are.

  The roof repair itself isn't why I started questioning my life choices that brought me to this point in my life. It's the man fixing it.

  "I'm nearly finished," Alden says over his shoulder. "Then I'll be out of your hair, and you can open up the shop again."

  “Thank you so much for working on this so quickly. The caffeine addicts in this town who are currently going through withdrawal thank you as well."

  He turns to me and gives me a warm smile. It's the same smile I remember him giving me in high school. But Alden doesn't look anything like the skinny guy he used to be. Like so many of the men in our small mountain town of Knight's Ridge, the thick muscles in his arms fill out his flannel shirt nicely, and the beard he sports has my mind trying to imagine what it would feel like against the soft skin between my thighs.

  I press my legs together to try and ease some of the pleasurable heat pooling there.

  Stop undressing him with your eyes.

  Alden's gaze meets mine, and I worry for a moment that I've said that last bit out loud. But he returns to his work without saying a word, and I'm reminded once again of the realization I came to as I sat here watching him work.

  People can change so much over time. Alden was once the dorky kid in school who grew up to be one of the most desirable bachelors in town. All it took was for him to grow a foot and pack on some muscles for the other women in town to take notice of him and flirt shamelessly.

  I change too, but not for the better. I was the prom queen who spent most of my four years in high school on the arm of the quarterback, only to be recently dumped by the said quarterback and now spend my Friday nights home alone.

  I peaked in high school. I know it, and this town knows it. I can't change this fact about me. Believe me. I would if I could. I hate the sympathetic head tilts from people whenever my ex’s name is brought up in conversation. I hope it’s not too late for me to find love again. Everyone deserves some sort of happy ever after, right?

  I glance down at the romance book in front of me. Cammie McQueen is my favorite romance writer. Her new series about a group of friends who confess their love for their secret crushes in a letter that accidentally gets sent out is quickly climbing the charts. It's even rumored on social media that she found love in the same way while writing this story.

  I slip out the envelope I tucked in between the pages of the book. It’s my own love letter that I wrote to Alden last night. I’ve written his name on the front in my best cursive font. If it helped Cammie find love in fiction and real life, then why couldn’t it do the same for me?

  I’d always considered Alden a friend, even at a time when we didn’t move in the same social circles back in the day. We bonded when my grandmother hired him to save me from flunking Astronomy sophomore year. We kissed once at Tommy Hagen's party junior year, playing a game of spin the bottle. The guys on the football team, including my ex, thought it would be funny to have him play, assuming none of the popular girls would want to kiss him. To say they were in for a surprise by how that prank turned out is an understatement. And Alden was the first person to make me smile after my ex, Brad, dumped me last spring.

  I know my curves have softened more since the breakup, and the guys I meet aren't exactly knocking down my door to ask me out, but I don't want just any guy. I want Alden. He's the perfect one for me. He's the type of guy most women only realize they want after they've gotten out of their systems, the bad boy, or in my case, the cocky jock. Sometimes I’ll catch a look from Alden that makes me think he feels it too, but he’s never made a move. But there’s no rule saying that a lady can’t make the first move, right?

  Alden's tool bag is sitting on the counter next to the register. When he's not looking, I can walk over and drop the letter into it, and he won't find it until later. This way, I can say what I want to say to him without the risk of getting rejected to my face if he doesn't feel the same way.

  Over the last few days, we've spent a lot of time together alone in the shop while he did the repairs, and I worked, trying not to imagine us having sex on all the surfaces in this place. There were little moments between us that gave me hope to think that writing this letter wasn’t the craziest thing in the world. From the way he'd brush against me as we worked around each other to the way I'd catch him on occasion, giving me a look that promised more. But today is the last day he’ll be here in the shop, and he’s not showing any signs that he’s going to get the nerve to ask me out anytime soon. I’m taking a page out of Cammie’s book and giving him the love letter.

  I slowly push up from my seat, not wanting to draw any attention as I walk over to the counter. I casually glance over my shoulder to check if he's watching—he isn’t. I decide to slip it into a side pocket rather than on top, so I don’t run the risk of him finding it while he’s still here.

  Alden's phone starts to ring, cutting through the silence and making me jump. A picture of Dean, Alden's younger brother, flashes on the screen.

  "Do you mind grabbing that?" Alden asks from behind me.

  “No problem.” I pick up the phone and hand it over to him.

  “Hello?”

  I walk back to the counter and tuck the letter in the pocket. I glance back at Alden. He's not looking at me but up at the ceiling, probably trying to figure out how much work he has left. I return to my seat, pretty proud of my stealth-like skills. If this whole coffee shop owner gig doesn’t work out, I think super spy is a new possible career move.

  “Yes, I told you already,” Alden sighs and pauses while Dean responds. “I know that’s what I said last time you set me up with her. But I promise I won’t bail on the date tonight.”

  Wait, what
? He’s got a date?

  It feels like all the air in my lungs has been sucked out at once—my gaze darts over to the letter peeking out of the side pocket of Alden's tool bag. I start to stand but freeze when Alden starts to climb down off the ladder he’s on. There’s no chance I can get the letter now without him noticing—even with my new spy skills.

  I glance back at Alden, and he makes a face like he's mocking whatever his brother is saying, trying to make me laugh. It would usually work, but right now, all I can think about is how stupid it was to give him the letter.

  Alden has a date tonight. A date that isn’t with me. My chest tightens, and I find it hard to take in a breath. I missed my chance with him. Tonight he could be having dinner with the woman of his dreams, and here I am, a woman dreaming of a life with someone she can't have.

  And to think, I thought that the worst thing to happen to me this week was the roof caving in.

  2

  ALDEN

  Dean’s texted me a handful of times already today, from the moment I left for The Roasted Bean this morning until now, to make sure that I will show up tonight. He knows that I don’t want to go out on this blind date, but he keeps insisting that I need to get out more. It’s not my fault the women he tries to set me up with aren’t my type. My type is the woman sitting in front of me.

  “You’ve spent enough time pining for the coffee shop girl,” Dean says.

  My gaze cuts to Jada, trying to judge from her expression if she heard what he just said. I don’t think she did. She looks distracted by something. Dean continues to blather on about how I’m not going to mess this up for him. He’s been trying to get a date with Mena Larsen for weeks, and she only agreed if he promised to find someone for her friend.

  "So, naturally, I thought of my celibate brother," he laughs to himself.

  “You sure that’s what you want to say to me when I’m about to do you a favor?”

  He stops laughing and clears his throat. “Good point. Are you on your way home?”

  “Nearly. I have to clean up before I go.”

  Dean tries to tell me he’s not going to get off the phone until he hears the engine of my truck roar to life to confirm I’m leaving, but I’m not one to be bossed around by my younger brother. So, I hang up on him.

  “All done with everything?” she asks, and I can’t help but notice something different about her tone.

  “Just about.” I start to clean and pack up my gear. “We’ll need to let it dry a few days before I can come back and paint.”

  “Let me get that for you.” She reaches for my tool bag, but I beat her to it.

  “I got it.”

  She makes a face like she's offended. I won't let her carry my tools for me, but it’s gone before I can tell for sure.

  We’ve been getting along great since I started the job. I actually thought that the branch going through her shop roof was somehow the universe stepping in to push us together. God knows that it’s been something I’ve wanted since high school, but up until last spring, she’d always been with her now ex, Brad. Besides, I still haven’t found the guts to ask her out anyway. I don’t want to ruin the friendship we have if she doesn’t feel the same way about me.

  Jada holds open the door for me as I walk out and hovers near the truck's bed as I load everything in. It looks like there is something she wants to say.

  “Well, I better get going.” I close the truck bed door.

  “Big date?” She tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

  “Just dinner.”

  “Lucky girl.”

  I wish it were you.

  I can’t get the expression on Jada’s face as I pulled away out of my head. It’s still bothering me after I get home and shower for my date.

  My phone pings on the bed with another text from Dean, but I don’t bother checking it. I grab a clean flannel and t-shirt from the closet and pull on yesterday’s jeans. Whoever my date is tonight, I’m not looking to impress her. I agreed to provide polite conversation and the occasional comedic antic dote—that’s it.

  The Knight’s Ridge Grill is filling up quickly by the time I arrive.

  Since its opening, it's become the place to go for date night or celebrations in town. Before, you'd have to travel down the mountain to Ashville for anything that wasn't diner food. Call me old-fashioned, but Hal's Diner is still the best place to eat in town. If it ain't broke, get your tuna melt at Hal’s.

  “There he is,” Dean stands up from the table and waves me over. “I told you he was coming, didn’t I?”

  Dean’s date, Mena, looks up from her menu at me with a bored expression on her face, but her friend—my date, has a smile on her face from ear to ear. Ashley Somersby. She’s made it clear in no uncertain terms of her interest in going out with me, even though she would never have given a guy like me the time of day in high school. I'm starting to see why Mena had a sudden change of heart about going out with Dean and why she insisted on a double date.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I sit down on the booth bench next to Ashley. She doesn’t scoot over to give me much room, pressing her breasts against my bicep.

  Dean owes me. Big time.

  “I wasn’t sure we’d ever get this date,” Ashley says in a husky voice near my ear.

  I can’t help but compare Ashley to Jada in my head. Both were popular throughout high school, but Jada never made anyone around her feel less than her. The same can't be said about Ashley. It was like she got some sort of sadistic thrill stepping on others to get what she wanted. It’s hard to forget that type of behavior about someone, even if high school was over a decade ago.

  I don't say much for most of the meal, only responding when directly spoken to, and that seems to suit Ashley just fine, that or she didn't even notice. She hardly takes a breath the entire time we eat. She is somehow managing to take any topic that is mentioned and bring it back around to her.

  Dean pretends like he doesn’t see the throbbing vein in my forehead to let him know that I’m screaming inside my head. He keeps the fake plastered smile on his face and avoids looking at me at all costs.

  “I want to go dancing,” Ashley announces to the table as I motion to the waitress that we are ready for our check.

  “There’s a new place in Ashville we could try out,” Mena says, perking up for the first time all evening.

  “I wish I could, but I’ve got a big job I’m working tomorrow, and I have to be up first thing.” I take the billfold from the waitress and tuck my credit card in the sleeve and hand it back to her without looking.

  The sooner dinner is over, the sooner I can get home.

  Ashley loops her arm in mine and tries to give me some wounded puppy dog expression that will not sway me. I carefully pull my arm free from her grip and smile as kindly as I can. I'm nothing if not a gentleman, even if I'm turning down the advances of one of the mean girls from high school.

  The summer night sky is clear, allowing for optimal viewing of the stars up on Coop’s Overlook. I drive my truck up as high as the road will allow before only a hiking trail is accessible leading up to the overlook. But I’m not here for the view of the town at night. I’m here for the view above it.

  I park my truck just before the tree line of the trailhead. I get out and lay down in the bed of the truck. There isn't a view quite like a night sky full of stars on this mountain. The only thing missing at this moment is having the woman of my dreams next to me. Jada. I've imagined so many times bringing her up here, lying next to me in my arms, and staring up at the sky. I've lost count of the number of falling stars I've made wordless wishes on for her to be mine.

  A warm wind blows through the trees, and I hear a flutter of something next to my head. I glance over and see an envelope tucked in the side pocket of my tool bag. I don't remember putting anything in there. I sit up and pull the envelope out, but I can barely see what’s written on it.

  I reach in my tool bag and pull out the small flashlight and click on the
light. My name is written on the front in a handwriting I don’t recognize. I open it and pull out a letter.

  Dear Alden,

  I’m the first to admit that I couldn’t have known that when the storm came and tore a hole into my shop roof that it would also tear through the armor, I've put around my heart. I thought that I knew the path my life was going to take with Brad. But when that plan got blasted apart, you were the first person to make me smile after it happened. You were like a beam of sunlight breaking through the dark clouds of my heartbroken life. Bits of light at first in the little things you did for me that I promise didn’t go unnoticed. The countless times you’d try my new flavorful coffee concoctions when I know you only drink plain black coffee. The way your face lights up talking about the constellations that can be seen on Coop’s Overlook. I hope one day you will take me up there and teach me more about the stars like you did back in high school. Getting a chance to see you these last few days, it's like a flood gate was pulled open. The more time we spend together, the more I realize just how much you mean to me. We have a history together, but I'm hoping to see if you want to see if we have a future. I know you may think this is crazy, especially since I’m saying this all in a letter, but is there a chance I’m not the only one that feels this way? I’d like to think that our story could be written in the stars, but you are the expert in that field, and I’m hopeful of what you come up with.

  Sincerely Yours,

  Jada

  3

  JADA

  The Knight’s Ridge Farmer’s Market is the best part of my weekend. I get a chance to meet new people from neighboring towns coming up the mountain to check out our local goods and catch up on the week’s events with the townspeople I’ve known all my life.