Lara shrieks with laughter as I wipe snow from my face.

“I am so going to get you for that.” I scoop up a handful of snow and start packing it into a snowball. “You’re going down.”

Face red with laughter, Lara backs up. Atticus runs a circle around us, confused by what we’re doing, but ready and willing to join in the fun.

“I’m sorry.” She doesn’t sound very contrite. “I couldn’t resist. Honest.”

Snowball ready, I shift to my knees and cock my arm back. Atticus, who must think I’m holding a ball, races between us and rears up on his hind legs, mouth gaping open.

I let the snowball rip.

Lara pivots. Probably, she meant to run to one of the nearby trees and take cover, but she only gets one step before her legs tangle with Atticus. Together, they tumble to the ground.

Not being the kind of guy to let a golden opportunity pass me by, I vault to my feet and scoop up another handful of snow as I close the distance between us.

Lara makes a vain attempt to get up, to scurry for cover, but she’s too slow. I drop down on top of her body, pinning her to the ground, and rub the snow in her face.

Howling with laughter, she jerks her head from side to side, shaking off the snow. She works an arm out from between us and manages to maneuver a handful of snow down the back of my shirt, but I barely feel it.

With her hair fanned out on the ground, face red from the cold and covered in melting snow, and indigo eyes full of laughter, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

The world around me narrows until the only thing I’m aware of, the only thing I care about, is her.

I sink my fingers into her damp hair, holding her in place while I lean forward, crushing her mouth with mine. She reaches for me, her arms winding around my neck as her lips part, granting me access, allowing me to plunder the dark recesses of her mouth, tease her tongue with my own. I never thought chocolate and snow could taste so intoxicating, but as long as they linger on Lara’s lips, I can’t get enough of them.

Heat flames within me as I slide my hands down until they feel the edge of her coat and slip beneath it, touching her warm, soft skin.

Rational thought fizzles, lost in a cloud of mindless pleasure and desire. It’s been eight long weeks since I last touched Lara, really touched her. Last night, after everything, just didn’t feel right. I stayed at the hotel again. I didn’t want her to think I was taking advantage. But if I wait any longer there’s a good chance I’ll implode.

She moves beneath me, arching her back, pressing her breasts into my chest, leaving no doubt that she wants me every bit as much as I want her.

I deepen the kiss. My hand slides up along her rib cage and brushes against the side of her satin bra.

Something warm runs down my ankle. I try to ignore it, but it grows hotter and wetter by the second. Puzzled, I break the kiss and look over my shoulder, meeting Atticus’s gaze. Just past his head, I see his hind leg, suspended a few inches above my ankle.

“You little shit!” I roll to one side, removing my leg from the line of fire.

“What’s wrong?” Lara digs her elbows into the ground. Her gaze sweeps over Atticus, then to my wet leg and snaps back to the patch of yellow snow between us.

“Don’t even think about laughing,” I warn even as her eyes start twinkling.

She claps a hand over her mouth. Her shoulders shake.

“That’s laughing,” I accuse. “It’s not funny.”

Unable to contain herself, Lara explodes with mirth. Atticus, the little mood killer, licks her face.

Finally, she regains enough control over herself to sit up, though she continues to chuckle.

She stands and picks up Atticus, hugging him close to her side. “Really, if you stop and think about it, he just paid you an enormous compliment.”

“How do you figure?” I sit up and brush snow off my jacket.

“He was marking his territory, letting all dogs know that you’re a part of his life, a pack member. And Atticus isn’t fond of many people, so, like I said, you should consider it a compliment.”

Amusement continues to dance in her eyes as she extends her hand. I take it and let her pull me up.

I pull the tree tag out of my pocket and tie it to the fallen spruce tree, marking it as mine so that the crew knows which one to deliver to the Blind Pig.

“You wouldn’t be talking about compliments and being part of the pack if it was your leg he peed on.”

Lara giggles. “Oh, he has his own special way of reminding me that I’m a pack member.”

“Which is…”

“He pees in my shoes.”

“You’re kidding.”

She snorts. “Three days ago, he ruined my favorite pair. Peeing on things is Atticus’s personal love language.”

Lara moves in close and wraps an arm around my waist, her small hand cupping the curve of my hip. It’s the first time she’s touched me. Hope warms my chest. Finally, it feels like we’re starting to connect, that something’s starting to grow between us.

And if finding that connection requires a little dog urine, then so be it.