January in Pinewood brought sub-zero temperatures and a temporary truce between Constable Liam Vance and his four-legged shadow. Realizing that the great outdoors provided far too many distractions for Bandit—and far too many opportunities for public humiliation—Liam formulated a foolproof, indoor strategy.
The battleground for his next attempt was The Roasted Bean, the town’s only coffee shop, which boasted a strict "Service Animals Only" policy. Bandit, despite his impeccable police training, did not qualify. For the first time in months, Liam was operating without a canine wildcard.
He found Clara sitting by the fireplace, her nose buried in a book, looking effortlessly beautiful in a dark green velvet scarf. Liam adjusted the collar of his civilian clothes—a simple navy wool sweater—feeling strangely exposed without his Stetson and gun belt.
"Mind if I join you?" Liam asked, holding two mugs of dark roast coffee.
Clara looked up, her face lighting up with genuine delight. "Liam! And you're... alone? Is Bandit okay?"
"He’s fine, just suspended from dating duty," Liam joked, sliding into the leather armchair opposite her. He set the mugs down with surgical precision, ensuring no liquids were spilled. "I figured a warm room with zero stray cats or loose wicker furniture was the safest place for us to catch up."
Clara laughed, that musical sound that instantly made the freezing Alberta wind outside disappear. "Smart man. I have to admit, my sweaters appreciate the precaution."
They talked for an hour. Without Bandit to wrangle, the conversation flowed like water. They discovered a mutual love for old mystery novels, a shared disdain for the town's aggressive geese, and the exact same memory of the 2022 winter blizzard. The romantic tension in the cozy corner grew thick enough to cut with a butter knife.
Liam leaned forward, his heart hammering against his ribs. The fireplace cast a warm, golden glow across Clara’s face. "Clara, there’s an art gallery opening at the community center next Saturday. It’s indoors. No dogs allowed. I’d really love to take you. Officially. Like a real date."
Clara’s smile softened, her eyes holding his with a warmth that made him completely forget the winter chill. "Liam, I would absolutely love that. I've been waiting for you to ask properly."
This was it. No runaway wrappers. No spilled cider. Liam reached across the small wooden table, his hand gently covering hers. Clara didn't pull away. She tilted her head, her gaze dropping briefly to his lips. The universe was finally aligning. Liam began to lean across the table, closing his eyes.
CRASH.
The coffee shop's front door burst open with tremendous force, rattling the windowpanes.
"Vance! Thank God you're here!"
Liam bolted upright, his eyes snapping open. Standing in the doorway, panting and covered in snow, was Mayor Higginson, holding a frayed, broken leash.
"It's Bandit!" the Mayor gasped, clutching his chest. "I saw your truck outside and went to give him a treat through the cracked window. He squeezed right through the gap! He's currently chasing the town snowplow down Main Street, and he's barking like a lunatic!"
Liam blinked, looking from the panicked mayor back to Clara, whose eyes were wide with shock. The spell was shattered, completely trampled by a hundred-pound German Shepherd with a vendetta against heavy machinery.
"Duty calls," Liam sighed heavily, rubbing his temples.
Clara gave him a sympathetic, yet thoroughly amused smile, gently squeezing his hand before he pulled it away. "Go save the snowplow, Liam. We'll try again."
Liam rushed out into the freezing cold, muttering a silent prayer that the art gallery next week had very sturdy locks on the doors.
