Page 1 of Overtime with Orion (Mountain Men Fall Harder #1)

LARKIN

Book Four next to Book One? Seriously?

I gripped the edge of the padded metal seat, trying with everything in me not to stand up and reorganize the books on the table in front of me. My friend Cassie had asked me to sit there and talk to any customers who walked up at the fall festival while she grabbed coffee.

She did not ask me to reorganize her table.

But the sight in front of me was an assault. Murder at the Harvest Fair—book four of her Crimson Harvest series—was lounging right next to A Latte to Die For, which was Book 1 of her totally different Trick-or-Treat Treachery series.

It was chaos. Worse, it was just wrong. And don’t get me started on how A Graveyard Gala was shoved in with the blue covers just because Cassie thought “the colors look nice together.”

My librarian soul twitched.

One book. One fix. She’d never know.

I hopped to my feet, rushed around the table, and slid Murder at the Harvest Fair into its rightful place.

Satisfaction hummed in my chest. But then I spotted Corn Maze Conspiracy out of order, and next thing I knew, I was elbow-deep in alphabetized bliss, reshuffling until everything made sense again.

That was when I felt someone behind me.

Oh, crap.

“I’m so sorry,” I said without turning around. My brain filled in Cassie’s glare. “I just…well, series order is part of my brain. Readers need to start with Book One, or they won’t understand who killed the baker in Book Three.”

“Where’s Cassie?”

That was not Cassie. Definitely not Cassie.

The voice was low, masculine, and way too close.

I froze, my hand still clutching Autumn’s End, and turned around.

And—holy wow.

Tall didn’t even begin to cover it. He had to be at least six-four, with broad shoulders that strained against a dark green flannel shirt.

His dark hair was effortlessly smooth—the kind that didn’t need taming—and his eyes were the most incredible shade of hazel I’d ever seen.

And he was staring at me like I was some kind of fascinating puzzle.

My mouth went dry.

“Coffee,” I managed. “She went for coffee.”

One corner of his mouth lifted, like he was fighting a smile. “And you are?”

“Larkin.” My cheeks burned. “Cassie’s friend. The librarian.”

“The librarian,” he repeated, and there was definitely amusement in his voice now. His gaze swept over the books I’d rearranged, then back to my face. “So that’s why you’re staging a book rescue mission.”

“I wasn’t—okay, fine. I was totally reorganizing them.” I gestured helplessly at the table. “But chaos and mysteries don’t mix. How are readers supposed to follow an ongoing arc if Book Four is sitting next to an entirely different series? It’s…physically painful.”

He actually chuckled at that—a low, warm sound that did something fluttery to my stomach. “Physically painful?”

“You don’t get it. My brain is wired for order. Cassie organizes by…vibes. Like, she put her Halloween mystery next to the blue covers because they ‘look pretty together.’ That’s not organization. That’s aesthetic sabotage.”

“Sounds like Cassie,” he said, and something in his tone suggested he knew her well. Really well.

My heart sank a little. Of course. A guy who looked like this didn’t just wander up to small-town book booths. He was probably Cassie’s secret admirer or something. She was always getting fan mail—mostly from women, but surely some attractive male fans too.

“Are you…” I cleared my throat. “Are you waiting for her? Because she should be back any minute.”

He took a step closer. Close enough that I caught a hint of his cologne—something woodsy and warm that made me want to lean into him.

“Actually, I was looking for her,” he said. “I’m Orion.”

Orion. The name hit me like a lightning bolt. Cassie’s brother. The football star. The one she talked about constantly, whose career had ended in injury, who she’d been worried sick about for months.

And I had just spent the last five minutes reorganizing his sister’s booth while lecturing him about proper mystery series organization.

“Oh God.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “You’re Cassie’s brother.”

His smile faltered slightly. “That’s me.”

There was something guarded in his expression now, like he was waiting for me to change how I was acting around him. Like he expected me to get all star-struck or weird.

Instead, I did what I always did when I was nervous. I kept talking.

“She’s so excited you’re here. She’s been planning this booth for weeks, talking about how having her famous brother around might actually get people to buy her books.

” I bit my lip. “Though honestly, she doesn’t need celebrity endorsement.

Her mysteries are incredible. The way she weaves clues through each book in the series—readers just need to be able to find Book One to start the journey. ”

“You’ve read her books?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“All of them. I special-ordered the first one for the library before she was even published here, and I’ve been hand-selling them to patrons ever since.

” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“She’s got this gift for making you care about characters right before she puts them in danger.

And her series continuity is flawless—if you read them in order. ”

Something warm flickered in his eyes. “She does have a gift, doesn’t she?”

The way he said it, with such pride and affection, made my chest tight. I’d spent many hours listening to Cassie worry about her big brother, wondering if he was okay, missing him. And here he was, and despite whatever he was going through, that love for his sister was written all over his face.

“She missed you,” I said softly.

“Yeah?” His voice had gone quieter too.

“Yeah. She talks about you all the time. Good things,” I added quickly. “Funny stories, mostly. Like the time you tried to cook her breakfast when she was twelve and nearly burned down the kitchen making scrambled eggs.”

He laughed, a real laugh this time. “She told you about that?”

“She tells me everything. You’re kind of her hero, you know.”

The smile faded from his face, replaced by something I couldn’t quite read. “I don’t feel much like anyone’s hero these days.”

The honesty in his voice caught me off guard. There was pain there, carefully hidden but unmistakable. Without thinking, I took a step closer.

“Heroes don’t always feel heroic,” I said. “That’s what makes them heroes.”

He stared at me for a long moment, those hazel eyes searching my face like he was trying to figure me out. The air between us felt charged, electric, and I was suddenly acutely aware of how close we were standing.

“Larkin.”

The way he said my name made my pulse skip.

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For taking care of her books. For taking care of her.”

“I—“ The words got stuck in my throat because he was looking at me like I was something precious, something worth protecting. “It’s what friends do.”

“Is it?” He reached out, slowly, and brushed a leaf from my hair that I hadn’t even realized was there. His fingers grazed my cheek, and I swore I stopped breathing. “Because I’m thinking friends don’t usually look at each other like this.”

“Like what?” The question came out as barely a whisper.

“Like we want to forget all the reasons they shouldn’t kiss each other.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. “What reasons?”

His thumb traced along my jaw, feather-light. “You’re my sister’s best friend.”

“That’s true.”

“You barely know me.”

“Also true.”

“I’m only in town temporarily.”

I leaned into his touch without meaning to. “How temporary?”

“I don’t know yet.” His voice was rough now, strained. “But Larkin?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I care about any of those reasons right now.”

The space between us shrank. The world narrowed to his hazel eyes, his hand on my skin, his breath mingling with mine. And then—

“Orion!” Cassie’s voice sliced through the moment like a blade. “You made it!”

We jumped apart, guilty teenagers caught in the act, but not before I noticed the promise in his eyes.

Something hot. Dangerous. Inevitable.

Something that told me this was only the beginning.