Two months later

Abby unlocked the door and let herself into the house, bracing for Darcy to launch himself at her, as the dog had done every day since the day she’d brought him home. When the expected attack didn’t come, she closed the door behind her, a flood of excitement coming with a single realization—Roux was home.

Tossing her snow-covered coat and hat on a hook by the door, she made her way into the living room, where Bennet looked up from her spot at the back of the couch and leveled her human with a serious gold gaze.

“Where are they?”

The cat twitched her black tail and returned to her nap.

Abby smiled and headed for the kitchen, in search of man and dog. It had taken a week of delicious tempting to convince Roux that his gentlemanly plan to live in separate houses was silly. He’d been particularly swayed by Abby’s promise that she wouldn’t stop finding ways to tempt him, and also, the closer the quarters, the more delicious the tempting, didn’t he think?

Roux had pointed out that they’d always tempted each other—even with thousands of miles between them, everything they’d ever done to each other was temptation.

True, but that didn’t stop Abby from doing her very best to keep him close. And succeeding. Two months later, they were just as wild for each other as they had been on that first day—wilder.

Abby blushed as she entered the kitchen, remembering the way they’d been together earlier in the day. She’d snuck from his arms to let Darcy out before making coffee—the way it was meant to be made. Standing at the counter, staring out the window, watching the dog chase a squirrel through the snow, she’d been making plans to climb back into bed and wake him slowly when Roux had snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her back against his warm, hard chest.

“What are you thinkin’ about, cher?” He’d asked, low and filled with sleep, the pelt of his beard soft against her neck as he slid one large hand down her thigh and back up, teasing under her Keep Calm and Cat On tank top before finding his way beneath the waistband of her black panties.

She sucked in a breath and leaned back, sliding a hand around his neck to give him room to work. “I was actually thinking about waking you up.”

“Mmmm?” His fingers slid lower. Searching. Finding. His breath came on a harsh exhale. “I was gon’ ask how…but considering how wet you are, I can guess.”

There was a time when she would have been embarrassed by his words—no longer. Instead, she turned in his arms and leaned up to kiss him, long and slow, her own fingers tracing a path over his beautiful warm skin to discovery—thick, hard, hot discovery.

“Let’s go back to bed,” she whispered against his full lips, the soft scrape of his beard a wicked promise.

“No need,” he said, lifting her up onto the counter and pushing her thighs apart to make room for himself.

That’s when her phone had rung. Kelly had terrible timing.

She’d picked the phone off the counter with an apologetic smile. “She’s panicking about the holiday party.” Kelly was throwing a massive holiday party in her massive house that night, and she was a wreck.

Accepting the call, Abby said, “Everything’s going to be fine, Kel.”

“Never let me do this again,” her sister said, “I’ve been up since five making mini quiches and a rum truffle tower.”

Roux had set his lips to Abby’s opposite ear. “Tell her you’re busy.”

“Do you need me to come?” Abby asked Kelly.

“Oui, cher, I need you to come.” He was killing her.

She took a deep breath, trying to focus on her sister. “Do you need help with something?”

“I need you to promise me you guys won’t be late,” Kelly said.

“Oh, I need help with something, all right.” He pressed himself against her, his hard length separated from her wet heat by nothing but thin fabric. Abby bit her lip.

She reached up and covered his mouth with her hand. “I promise we won’t be late.” He nipped her palm. “Ow! Stop it!”

“What’s happening?” asked Kelly.

“Nothing,” Abby said quickly. “Bennet bit me.”

Roux raked his teeth over her ear, sending a shiver through her before he growled, “Liar.”

“You’re sure you won’t be late? You guys are always late. Even when you’re here, I have trouble getting you to do anything but make sex eyes at each other.”

“Excuse me! We don’t make sex eyes at each other!”

Roux lifted his head at that. Of course.

“Oh, please,” Kelly said with teasing judgment. “You make sex eyes.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“I do,” Roux said, plucking the phone out of Abby’s hand. “Kelly, I can’t help it if your sister makes sex eyes at me.”

“Roux!” Abby cried, “I don’t!”

He grinned at something her sister said. “Well, of course I make them back. I’m a gentleman.” And then his hand was under the hem of her tank top and it didn’t seem gentlemanly at all. “We won’t be late,” he said. And without waiting for Kelly’s answer, he hung up the phone.

In seconds, her clothes were on the floor.

“Roux!” she squeaked. “It’s cold…and you just told my sister I make sex eyes at you.”

“I’ll keep you warm, baby,” he promised, lowering himself to his knees. “And I’ll start worrying the day you stop making sex eyes at me.”

And he did keep her warm. Warm, then blazing hot, before they discovered that the counter was the perfect height for any number of activities beyond coffee-making.

She’d been late for work, not that she cared.

Now, Abby couldn’t stop herself from looking over at the counter, the memory consuming her…until she saw the envelope and her name, in that thick, masculine scrawl that she knew so well—that she loved so well.

Tearing it open, she read.

Cold air swirled through the kitchen as she looked up from the letter to the back door, where Roux stood, snow in his hair and beard and on the wide shoulders of his navy peacoat, the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

The most perfect man she’d ever known.

The only man she would ever love.

Darcy came for her, launching himself up, pushing her back into the counter. She gave the dog an absentminded pet and moved around him, her gaze never leaving Roux’s, even as his attention flickered to the paper in her hand and back to her face.

Even as his throat worked, as though he had something to say.

Something to ask.

Her big, brave man was nervous.

And then he was coming for her, all strength, meeting her halfway, pressing his forehead to hers. “Abby.”

“I love you,” she said, reaching up for him, sliding her palms over his soft beard and her fingers into his snowy hair. “I’m yours. You never have to ask.”

His hands were cradling her face. “I have to ask…” He leaned down and kissed her, lush and perfect. “I have to…” Another kiss. “Let me.” Another, before he pulled away and she saw the little black box in his hand.

Her heart leapt. “Roux…”

The diamond eternity band was stunning, but nothing compared to the look in his eyes, like she was water and air. Like he’d never loved anything the way he loved her. Just as she’d never loved anything the way she loved him.

“Marry me, cher?”

And it was her turn to kiss. To love. To whisper, “Yes.” His smile was like the sun, and she couldn’t help but match it when he slid the ring onto her finger. “Love me, wolf?”

“Always.”