"Could've been Jake Morgan who found you." My friend has a reputation with newcomers. Usually leaves them with broken hearts and rental agreements. "He owns half the commercial properties in town. Emma, his sister, runs the coffee shop next door to your place."
Harper perks up. "Really? What's she like?"
The question makes me smirk. Emma Morgan could give a hurricane lessons in causing chaos. "You'll see."
We hit Main Street, and right on cue, Mrs. Peterson stops dead in the middle of sweeping her shop's sidewalk. Her jaw drops at the sight of my truck – or more likely, my passenger.
"It's starting," Harper mutters.
By the time I park in front of the bookstore, we've collected enough stares to fuel a month of gossip. Harper's cheeks are pink, but she holds her head high as she steps down from the truck.
"Well, well." The voice carries clearly from the coffee shop door. "When Jake said Dean McKnight was driving into town with a woman, I thought he was drunk again."
Emma Morgan saunters over, all curly hair and knowing smiles. She's wearing one of her signature vintage dresses, this one dark green with tiny flowers, and the kind of boots that mean business.
"Harper James," Harper extends her hand, professional despite her borrowed sweater and jeans. "I just bought the bookstore."
"Honey, after that entrance, you could be buying the whole damn town and no one would care." Emma's grin turns wicked as she glances between us. "They'll be too busy wondering how you managed to defrost the mountain man."
"Emma." My warning growl just makes her laugh.
"Fine, fine. Keep your secrets." She loops her arm through Harper's. "Come on, new neighbor. Let me show you around."
Harper throws me a panicked look as Emma drags her away. I should rescue her. Should remember that Emma Morgan eats secrets for breakfast.
Instead, I watch them disappear into the coffee shop, already deep in conversation. Harper's laugh drifts back, clear and bright, and something in my chest tightens.
"You are so screwed, McKnight."
Jake appears beside me, looking too amused for nine in the morning. "When were you going to mention you found our new bookstore owner?"
"Truck broke down. Helped her out."
"All night?" He waggles his eyebrows.
I turn toward the coffee shop, wondering if Emma's matchmaking tendencies are genetic. "Caffeine, Morgan. Now."
His laughter follows me inside.
Chapter 5
Harper
Emma Morgan is a force of nature in a vintage dress.
"So," she sets two massive mugs of coffee on the table between us, "you spent the night with Dean McKnight, huh? I'm impressed."
"I didn't—we didn't—" I sputter into my coffee. It's perfect, because of course it is. "My truck broke down."
"Mmhmm." She perches on the worn leather chair like it's a throne. The coffee shop around us is a masterpiece of controlled chaos – mismatched furniture, local art, and the kind of atmosphere that makes you want to curl up and never leave. "And of all the cabins in all of Montana, you broke down at his."
"You make it sound like fate."
"Honey, in Wylde Mountain? Everything's fate." Her green eyes sparkle with mischief. "Especially tall, brooding men who don't let anyone past their property line, suddenly playing knight in shining armor."
I think about last night. About confessions in the dark. About waking up feeling safe for the first time in months. "He was just being kind."
Emma's laugh is warm and knowing. "Dean McKnight doesn't do 'just' anything. Trust me, I've known him since we were kids. That man guards his solitude like a dragon guards gold."
