The Pinewood Community Center was entirely dog-proof. Liam had personally inspected the heavy oak doors, verified the lack of loose textiles, and confirmed that the local wildlife population was strictly prohibited from entering. Best of all, Bandit was safely locked in his spacious indoor-outdoor kennel at the cabin, happily chewing a massive bison bone.
"Perfect," Liam muttered to himself, adjusting the cuffs of his button-down shirt. He looked around the brightly lit gallery. Soft classical music played from hidden speakers. Well-dressed locals held plates of tiny appetizers.
"You look very handsome when you aren't covered in wicker," a voice teased.
Liam turned to see Clara walking toward him, wearing a stunning burgundy dress that made his chest tighten. She had her hair up, and the golden gallery lights caught the delicate silver earrings she wore.
"And you look absolutely breathtaking," Liam said honestly, offering her a glass of sparkling water.
Clara blushed, accepting the glass. "Thank you. And thank you for choosing a venue that requires a tie. It’s nice to see you out of uniform, Constable."
For the next two hours, the date was a textbook success. They strolled from painting to painting, exchanging whispered jokes about the more eccentric pieces of abstract art. Liam didn't have a leash in his hand. He wasn't looking out for loose cats. He was entirely focused on the way Clara's hand occasionally brushed against his arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
By nine o'clock, the gallery was beginning to empty. They found themselves in a quiet, dimly lit alcove at the back of the building, standing before a large landscape painting of the Alberta foothills.
"It’s beautiful," Clara whispered, looking at the canvas.
"It really is," Liam said, though he was looking entirely at her profile.
Clara turned her head, meeting his gaze. The playful banter of the evening melted away, replaced by a charged, breathless silence. The soft strings of a cello echoed faintly from the main room. Clara took a half-step closer, her eyes dropping to his lips before rising back to his eyes.
Liam reached out, his fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw. His heart was pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He leaned in, tilting his head. Clara leaned in too, her eyelashes fluttering shut as she anticipated the kiss that had been months in the making. Their lips were barely an inch apart.
SMACK.
A wet, furry snout violently shoved its way between their mouths, pinning Liam’s nose to Clara’s cheek.
Liam gasped, stumbling backward, his eyes flying open in utter disbelief. Standing on his hind legs, his front paws resting squarely on Liam's shoulders, was Bandit. The German Shepherd was panting happily, covered in a light layer of snow, his tail wagging so hard his entire backside shook.
"Bandit?!" Liam choked out, his voice cracking. "How are you—why are you here?!"
"Oh my goodness," Clara laughed, pressing a hand to her mouth as she stepped back, her eyes wide.
Through the double doors of the gallery, a breathless, sweat-soaked civilian volunteer from the search-and-rescue team came sprinting inside. "Constable Vance! Thank goodness! A little boy got separated from his parents at the winter carnival down the road. We needed the best tracker in the province, so I went to your cabin to fetch Bandit. The second I let him out of the kennel, he took off running in this direction! He must have tracked your scent right to the building!"
Bandit dropped back down to all four paws, gave a sharp, authoritative bark, and trotted toward the exit, looking back over his shoulder as if to say, 'Come on, human, we have work to do.'
The romantic spell wasn't just broken; it had been completely overridden by operational necessity.
Liam looked at Clara, his face a mix of profound apology and professional duty. "Clara, I..."
"Go," Clara smiled warmly, her eyes filled with admiration. She reached over and gently patted Bandit's head. "The boy needs you both. We'll find our moment, Liam. Clearly, your partner just wants to be part of the script."
Liam nodded, grabbing his coat. As he ran out into the snowy night behind his enthusiastic dog, he couldn't help but wonder if Bandit was running a highly advanced, deeply frustrating matchmaking routine of his own.
