Wrapped in the Mountain Man's Flannel

I carve wood for a living. Furniture, mantels, custom pieces for people with more money than patience. Whisper Vale's Harvest Festival means I've got a booth to run, commissions to fill, and no time for the gorgeous stranger who just bought three cutting boards she definitely doesn't need.

Maisie Quinn is in town for the festival, renting the cottage at the end of my road. She's a food blogger here to cover the harvest events, and she keeps showing up at my workshop asking questions about my process while I'm trying to concentrate.

Hard to concentrate when she's wearing my flannel.

She got cold at the bonfire. I gave her my shirt. She hasn't given it back. Keeps showing up in it like it's hers now, sleeves rolled up, hem hitting mid-thigh, smelling like sawdust and vanilla.

That flannel is doing things to my self-control that ten years of mountain solitude didn't prepare me for.

She's here for two weeks. Temporary. Passing through. I know better than to get attached.

But when the first frost hits and I find her shivering on her porch because her cottage heater broke, I don't send her to the inn. I bring her home.

My home. My fire. My flannel.

My woman.

Wrapped in the Mountain Man's Flannel is a cozy-then-scorching autumn romance featuring a quiet woodworker, the curvy food blogger who invades his world, and Harvest Festival magic that warms into searing passion. Guaranteed HEA with no cheating.