Page 51 of Beastly Mountain Man

“You want down?”

She looked over her shoulder.

“No.”

The answer hit harder than the snowball had.

Caprice settled back against me.

Even through both coats and layers underneath, I remembered exactly what she felt like.

She turned in my arms.

Snow had melted into tiny drops along her cheek. Her nose was pink with cold, and a few strands of blond hair had escaped under the hat.

She smiled.

“What were you going to do with me?”

“Nothing you didn’t want.”

“I know.”

She rose as high as her boots allowed and kissed the bottom of my beard.

Then she scooped snow from my shoulder and smeared it over my neck.

I swore.

Caprice ran again.

This time I gave her a head start.

The next hour got away from us.

We threw snow until my shoulders warmed under my coat. Bear chased, rolled, shook powder over both of us, and eventually stole one of Caprice’s gloves when she removed it to wipe her face.

“Bear.”

He bounded away with the glove hanging from his mouth.

Caprice pointed at him.

“Your criminal enterprise is expanding.”

“He likes consistency.”

“I’m not losing another item of clothing to that dog.”

She chased him.

Bear considered that an invitation to improve the game.

He ran in a wide circle while Caprice followed, shouting increasingly specific legal threats.

I stayed out of it until he made the mistake of circling too close to me.

I caught his collar and took the glove.