Offloading the bags of groceries on the counter Ethan ran over the list in his mind for a hundredth time. God, he was a nervous mess of energy and had no idea what to do with it aside from a punishing hour—or twelve—in the gym.

Following his conversation with Marshall, Ethan had worked himself into knots about what to say, what to do and ultimately decided there was no point stressing the details. Alyssa was a straight to the point kind of girl, one of the many things he loved about her. No fuss. No pretense.

The original plan had been to take it all to her place, but seeing as there was something to say about maintaining home field advantage, he ultimately decided it had to be here. In his space. The whole point was about opening up his life—his heart and home to her—then it only made sense. As the cabin was so much closer to the gallery and the precinct, they'd always kept to her place but this time, he wanted her here.

In his home. Surrounded by the quiet woods now blanketed under a thin layer of crystalline snow.

He'd fallen for this spot almost the second he'd clapped eyes on it. Here, in the picturesque northern loop of the island, overlooking the stunning ocean vistas. This stretch was home to discreet million dollar getaway properties and rolling farms and protected park lands.

His neighbours were few and far between on this side and he much preferred it that way, not because he was anti-social but because he'd always loved the simple beauty of nature in the shifting grace of the seasons. He'd snatched up this place sometime after Vanessa. He'd been saving up everything he had to get this place sooner.

The first time he'd made love to her had been parked up by the inlet on a blanket in the back of his rusted pickup. Barely sixteen and he'd thought that she was it for him. And he'd never again come close—though at one point he'd desperately tried. Much to his chagrin, when he'd pushed and forced things along with Nicole for two, difficult years, only to realize what a mistake he was about to make. Thankfully she'd saved him from falling on his sword by taking a promotion with the RCMP and left Haven without a backward glance.

After that he'd set the thought of settling down aside. Buried himself in his job. In his family. Kept his head down until Alyssa came into his quiet, orderly world and set it all on its head. She was his opposite in every way and yet complimented him as no one else ever had before. Life felt fuller, brighter—with her around. And he couldn't imagine that fullness or brightness going away.

Stooping to stroke and ruffle Belle's thick silver and white fur, as Beast snoozed on the couch, Ethan reached into his back pocket and slid out his phone. Seeing as it was still within working hours he tried to reach her at the gallery and was pleased when she'd answered on the second ring.

"Hey," Alyssa's voice slid out, warm with welcome. "I was just thinking about you."

"Good to know," he said, pleased that his voice wasn't strained or stilted considering his heart had ratcheted up into his throat. "Listen, about dinner..." Exhaling heavily, Ethan brushed a hand behind his head, mussing his hair. "I was thinking...how about my place tonight?"

The line hummed with silence for only the barest moment before she answered. "Sure. Need me to bring anything?"

Relief poured through him. Warm and cold at the same time. "Just yourself. Seven good?"

"Seven's great."

"Good. Okay. See you tonight." Hanging up, Ethan set his hands to his counter and exhaled. Jesus Christ, he was really going through with it.

With less than two hours until she'd get here, that left him with almost no time to go and do something crazy—like rock in the corner for an hour and have a panic attack—Ethan set to work. He'd picked up a couple of thick cut porter steaks, some fresh produce and potatoes.

Dealing with the spuds first, he plunked them into an empty sink and scrubbed them down under cool water. It was too cold to grill outside but he'd forked out a sizeable chunk of his savings into fixing up his kitchen with a state of the art range, a double door fridge, matching freezer—all professional grade and both big enough to walk into.

Had he not gone into law enforcement, Ethan could have easily seen himself as an executive chef. Exploring tastes and textures, creating new and exciting dishes that would compel the eye and intrigue the palate. One of his lifelong ambitions was to tour through the heart of Asia and sample the vibrant, ethnic cuisine.

One of the many dreams he'd set aside and told himself, over and over again, he'd get to it at some point. But when? And god, why the wait? Why did he always have to push everything aside—when had his life become all about the job and nothing else? Jesus, he thought, shutting off the water, no wonder Sheryl had flipped a gasket at the re-launch event.

She had been completely and one hundred percent right. He'd had his head shoved so far up his own ass he'd been entirely oblivious to the fact that the world was whipping on by without him, that he'd been locked—standing still—until Alyssa had exploded like fireworks in a night sky, jarring him back into moving. Breathing. Living.

While the potatoes roasted on a rack in the oven, pricked and lightly dressed with olive oil, seasoning and a bit of garlic and rosemary for depth of flavor, Ethan swept through the rest of the house. Gathering up scattered belongings and sweeping up dog hair. He wanted everything immaculate and pristine. 

As far as first impressions went, this was one he couldn't fail.

#

He'd only just showered and dressed when Belle's bright woofs alerted him a second before the melodic chime of the door bell. Checking his watch, Ethan smiled. Punctual as ever.

Turning the locks, Ethan whisked the front door open.

"Hey." She inside, simply dressed in stonewash jeans, boots and a snug black t-shirt dressed up with dangling earrings and bold lipstick.

"Hey yourself." Shutting the door, Ethan flicked the locks behind her as she shrugged out of a fitted jacket. "You look gorgeous. Here, let me." And gathered her coat to hang on a hook by the doorway.

"So, this is it," she said as he led her from the foyer into the heart of his home. He'd turned the lighting to a warm glow. The floor to ceiling windows, stretching the entire length of the living room, were unobstructed and night pressed in from beyond, turning them into a panel of black.

A large sectional couch and a round glass coffee table dominated an otherwise minimally furnished space. He'd kept everything light, simple and uncomplicated, which suited him and his needs but now wondered what was going through her mind. Would she think him too casual? Boring? Uninspired?

Before he could muster up the voice to ask, at the scrabbling of paws, Ethan had a second to realize—shit—he'd forgotten to take the dogs out to the back. As Belle and Beast bounded for them, before he could lift his hand to whistle and call them off, Alyssa was on the floor—literally—rolling around with them.

Laughing. Getting slobbered on and covered in hair.

Ethan watched the antics—stunned—as his heart slid out from his chest and fell at his feet. That was it. He might have been gone already, but this clinched it. Seeing her on the ground, rough-housing with his dogs, where others had protested—some quite emphatically—about the appropriateness of keeping his dogs in doors.

Those women hadn't lasted beyond that point.

"Are you going to introduce me to these adorable goofballs?" Alyssa giggled, glancing up at him as Beast and Belle rolled around in her lap, yipping and nipping in adoring affection.

"Yeah, sure." Lowering to his haunches, Ethan swiped his hands over exposed bellies and ruffled thick fur. "Belle is the Malamute husky. And the German Sheppard is Beast."

"Belle and Beast," Alyssa crooned, gathering each of their faces for a noisy kiss on the muzzle. "Pleased to meet you guys. Yes, I am."

And because the smell of dinner would only make the dogs a harder to manage, Ethan slid a hand around both collars to haul nearly two hundred pounds of excited animal off of her. "Let me get these two out of the way. Pour yourself a glass. I'll be right back," he said, and nodded to the exposed kitchen where he'd left a bottle of wine to breathe. And led the dogs down to the basement.

Sneaking into the cold room, he brought out a couple of bones he'd picked up from the butcher earlier that afternoon as bribes for good behavior and tossed them into their kennels.

Alyssa stood by the doorway, watching as he spoke to them in a hushed voice, stopping to give them both an affectionate rub and scratch. Some might say he spoiled them like children, but she imagined to his mind they were just that.

His responsibility. His family. And Ethan treasured those he loved.

Knowing that clutched at Alyssa's heart. Made it swell and ache and feel altogether too big for her body.

And holy shit, she thought, jerking around and away from that heart-rending scene...she was falling in love with him. No—no, that had to stop. This had to stop. Getting all lost in emotion was pointless. Not when she was leaving less than two weeks. Not when her job at Schulman was back on the table. Jesus, she'd planned to tell him tonight. To share and celebrate the news but now...?

Alyssa pressed a hand over her heart that kicked in a fast, leaping gallop as the sensible side of her brain snapped into place to process. To rationalize.

If there was anything that she'd learned from cancer is that life was too short and she'd promised herself not to waste anymore moments—to leap first and boldly take whatever she wanted without worrying about tomorrow or planning for future. Perhaps not the most responsible mindset, now that she was looking back on it.

This couldn't be love. Not real love. Ethan was her first lover since Sebastian. Toss in fantastic sex and a guy with a heart of gold, of course her heart would get messy and confused. And as great as it was—as wonderful as the last few weeks had been—there was no moving forward. Only the here and now. She'd go back to Toronto, back to her old life and to where she belonged. And Ethan...would be here. Being Ethan. Doing what he loved. That's the way it had to be.

They could go no further than that. But she still had a few more days left, and there was nothing wrong with enjoying the heck out of them. Squeezing out every last drop, so that when she went home this would stay with her. Always.

"Hey." Ethan's voice coupled with the shutting of a door shot through her thoughts like a flare gun. Fast and bright and terrifying. "Sorry about the mongrels."

"Don't apologize," she smiled at him and hoped that nothing else showed in her expression. "I love dogs."

His smile spread, slow and yummy across his handsome face as he strode closer to gather her in his arms for a searing, bone sizzling kiss. A kiss that was doing all kinds of female and fluttery things to a heart that was still pretty revved up.

"What's for dinner?" she asked as his mouth slid across her jaw, his teeth trailing down her throat with slow, lazy bites.

"Couple porters," Ethan said between kisses and nibbles. "Roasted potatoes. A romesco sauce."

"Mmm." She nipped at his bottom lip, slithering up against him. "Smells good."

Food, Ethan's mind pressed. Unhand the woman and concentrate on finishing the meal. Even though his mind was urging him to stick to the game plan, his body was primed for her. Even with this barest taste, this smallest flicker and all he could do was sink in for more.

And more.

Those quick, sly little hands of hers were busy with the waist of his shirt, tugging it up and off. And with it, all thoughts of dinner were cast aside. To hell with food.

Ethan hefted her weight into his arms, wrapping arms and legs around him, their mouths fused, locked in a violent, desperate kiss. A wild tangle of lips, teeth and tongues. They made it as far as the couch before he tipped her over, weighing body to body with him on top.

"I don't want it gentle." Alyssa scored her nails down his chest, a delicious sting over his burning skin. "Not this time."

Good. He didn't either.

Flipping her over, Ethan dragged her lower body off the couch, his hand fisted her hair to pin Alyssa against the cushions while the other made fast work of her jeans—unfastening, peeling.

"Jesus," he groaned, discovering she'd come to him without panties. Sending a quick word of thanks to the Saints above as he shucked off his own jeans and freed himself to the stroke of his hand. Thrusting a knee between hers, he wedged her legs wider still and plunged.

She cried out with him. That first shocking thrust sent pleasure to seize straight to his balls, to score across every nerve. Anchoring her at nape and waist as he rolled with slow and deep thrusts; his body alive with instinct, his every sense locked in a primal state of want and need and desire. Locked in on a single goal.

"Faster," she moaned, reaching behind her to dig her nails into his hip while the other clasped his wrist where he fingers tangled up in her hair.

Muscles straining, his body was compelled to heed her command. Ethan's lips blazed up the line of her back as he moved over her—in her—driving harder, deeper and entirely without mercy.

Pleasure shocked under Alyssa's skin with each sinful wet slap of flesh and the hard, demanding rhythm of their bodies. Ethan—quiet, responsible, by the book Ethan. The pillar of the community was a sexual animal when unleashed. And there was something inherently powerful in knowing she brought out this ferocity in him.

"God," his voice rasped, his grip tightening, his thrusts lengthening with brutal, punishing force that left her breathless. Dazed. Her orgasm blazed with the fury of a whiplash, slicing her open, baring her soul to a flood of feeling too great for her to contain.

Blind, all she could do was hold on, take and take more as Ethan pumped into her, riding her higher, faster—to that thin line between heaven and hell.

He came with aviolence to match her own, calling out her name as he fell.