Page 41 of Puppy Love

Anklesof all fucking things. A few more weeks in this woman’s company, and he was going to have to start asking people to cover their piano legs like some scandalized Victorian maiden.

“It’s biological,” Sophie added, continuing the conversation as though Harrison were taking part in it instead of growing hard while staring at a wall of yarn. He was beginning to realize what she saw in this place. “I read this study once that said women who are ovulating wear red without even realizing it. It’s like an advertisement for fertility.”

“I amnotputting Bubbles in a walking fertility advertisement.”

She giggled. “Dogs are mostly color-blind, so I think she’ll be safe from all those unwanted male advances.”

He turned on her with a glare. “Then what the devil are we doing in a yarn store picking out colors? You’re telling me she can’t tell the difference between any of these?”

“I mean, she might like the texture of some better than others. This one is awfully soft. It’s like running your fingers through cotton candy. Here. Feel it.”

Sophie grabbed his free hand and pulled it toward a bundle of yarn the exact same color as her pants. He knew she was doing it on purpose—this slow brush of her palm against his, this fingering of textiles that made his heart pound—but it didn’t seem to matter. Whether playing or pushing, the results were always the same.

“See?” she said, casting a shy look up at him. Her fingers slipped through his. “Who wouldn’t want that against their bare skin?”

Harrison wanted to snatch his hand away, but he was stuck, transfixed by desire and his inability to withstand the power she had over him. He also wanted to tell her exactly what he was thinking: that cotton candy wasn’t his vice.Pulled taffy—that was his poison, and that was exactly what Sophie felt like. Taut muscles and soft skin, the endless tugging and straining that happened whenever she drew near.

Naturally, he could say no such thing. Even if hewerea master of oratory prowess, he had no way of knowing what that kind of reaction a declaration like that would elicit. Wide-eyed shock seemed a likely possibility. Revulsion was definitely a contender. Or Sophie might, as she was doing much more often these days, laugh.

Which was why the only thing that eventually left his lips was something gruff and inadequate to capture his feelings.

“Is all that whyyou’rewearing red today?” he asked with a whirl of his finger in the direction of her legs.

Her hand twitched in his and her cheeks broke out in twin pink circles, but she didn’t let go. It was as good a metaphor for this woman as anything.Tenacious, that was what she was. She had to be, to have stuck this thing out with him for this long.

“It was Dawn’s idea,” she said. “Which, since you’ve met her, I’m sure you can understand.”

He didn’t. Sophie’s sisters hadn’t seemed to be overly fond of red to him. In fact, the only thing he’d been able to glean during that painful session in their kitchen was that they were terrifying. “She seemed okay,” he said, hedging.

Her mouth fell open in a slight part. “Okay?Dawn? The one with the wavy hair and killer smile?”

He nodded.

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. “That was your takeaway? After forty-five minutes in her company? That she’s okay?”

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Why? Isn’t she?”

The stare only intensified. “She’s more than okay, Harrison. She’s gorgeous and she’s fun and everyone loves her. I mean that literally.Everyone. Wait—what did you think of Lila?”

“If I say she’s okay, are you going to go off on me again?”

A light giggle escaped her lips. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to anyone—any man, that is—meeting Dawn and not instantly falling in love with her. Lila too. She’s the most beautiful person I know, both inside and out.”

Harrison could have easily corrected her on this score. The Vasquezes were a well-formed lot, it was true, but he didn’t see how anyone who’d spent five minutes in Sophie’s company could prefer her sisters. Sophie’s beauty was more subtle and delicate, yes, but it was all the more powerful because of it. Her feelings weren’t a maze or a puzzle that a man had to figure out—they were right there on the surface, easy to interpret and free for anyone who cared to pick them up.

Most important, she waskind. To him and to animals, to his father and to everyone who crossed her path. Maybe that was a commonplace thing where she came from, but to him, it was like reaching an oasis after twenty years of dry, desert living.

“I hate to disillusion you when we’re making such good headway, but this isn’t my normal way of progressing through life,” Sophie said. She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and fixed her gaze out the storefront window. “Withyou, I don’t seem to have a problem asserting myself. With them, however… I don’t know. It’s like I’m powerless. Poor little Sophie Vasquez, always last choice, always third place.”

Of all the harsh things Sophie had said to him in the course of this puppy training, none of them caused his insides to roil quite like that one. He’d willingly withstood everything she had to throw at him in the name of progress—Pomeranians and candles and bare fucking ankles—but this was where he drew the line.

“Sophie, I—” he began, but the words were difficult to get out. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, all moisture sucked dry.

By the time he managed to figure out what came next—Sophie, I want you; Sophie, I need you—she’d dropped his hand and gasped at the sight of a flash moving across the street.

“Is that your dad?” she asked.

“What? Where?” His thoughts successfully diverted, Harrison craned his neck to get a better look. “That guy crossing the street? But he’s…”