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When they finally broke apart, they were breathing harder than the cold air warranted.

Emily pressed her forehead to his chest and let out a small, breathless laugh. “I may have one or two lumberjack fantasies,” she said, into his thermal. “Just so you know.”

Cole dropped his head and kissed her again. Slower this time, deeper, his hand coming up to cup her face. She leaned into it the way she leaned into everything—completely, once she’d decided.

Her hands roamed down his chest, then lower, palming the hard length of him through his jeans. Cole groaned into her mouth, hips instinctively pushing into her touch.

“Emily…” he warned, voice rough.

“Mmm,” was all she gave him, squeezing gently, teasing.

He was hard as steel already. If he didn’t stop this now, he wouldn’t be able to.

“We have a meeting with the mayor in forty minutes.”

She made a sound of genuine displeasure and pressed closer rather than stepping back. “I know.”

“He’s expecting us.”

“I know that too.”

He kissed her temple. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth, which was cheating slightly, but she’d started it. His hands moved slowly—up her sides through her coat, settling at her waist, feeling the warmth of her through the layers. He wanted, very much, to not be standing in a backyard in December. He wanted to be somewhere warm with significantly fewer layers between them and no mayoral appointments on the calendar.

Reality, however, was what it was.

He pulled back with considerable reluctance. The tiny snowflakes were still drifting down around them, landing in her hair, on the shoulders of her coat. Captain had given up on the snowdrift and was sitting three feet away watching them with his ears forward and his tail going a hundred miles a minute.

Emily tilted her head up, a mischievous smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “You know,” she said, “forty minutes is a lot of time.”

Cole looked at her. He understood exactly what she meant. He also understood that if he engaged with what she meant, they were going to be very late to city hall.

“Emily,” he said.

“I’m just saying.”

“I know what you’re saying.”

“Forty minutes…”

He kissed her instead of answering, his hand cupping her face, and when he pulled back, her eyes were bright, and her smile had gotten considerably more satisfied.

“You’re going to kill me, Whitaker.”

“Ah, so my plans are coming to fruition. Perfect!” Emily laughed, going up on her toes and kissing him again.

“Tonight,” Cole said firmly when they broke apart. “All of it. Tonight.”

She hummed as if considering this. “Fine,” she said. “But I want it noted that I offered.”

“Noted,” Cole said. “Let’s go.”

Emily looked up at him, eyes bright, color in her cheeks from the cold and everything else.

He kissed her thoroughly, the kind of kiss that made a promise—and then stepped back before he talked himself out of the meeting entirely.

Emily straightened her coat. Pushed the snow out of her hair. Looked at him with that expression she’d been wearing for two days, the one that sat somewhere between warm and wicked and was doing things to his ability to think straight.

“Right,” she said. “Mayor Bloomfield.”