Page 67 of Puppy Love

“Harrison,listen.”

“I can’t, Sophie,” he said—pleaded, really. How could he reasonably be expected to drag the poor puppy out into the wild like this? What kind of a man would he have to be to subject her to this kind of whimpering agony day after day? “I’d like to keep her if I can, maybe as a pet, but—”

“For the love of all things stubborn, will you stop talking for five seconds andlookat her?”

Harrison glanced down. Even though they were a good distance from the fire now, the Pomeranian hadn’t stopped her shifting, whining movements. He’d assumed she was trying to get free, and that she wouldn’t be happy until she’d put as much distance between herself and the flames as possible, but something about Sophie’s crossed arms gave him pause.

So did her question. “When was the last time you did a finger stick? Or, for that matter, the last time you ate something?”

His eyes flew open as he appraised the tiny dog. She’d managed to free herself from the sling just enough to bring her face to his, her little head nudging his chin with an urgency that couldn’t be denied. Now that he was paying attention, he recognized that nudging as the action they’d been working on for the past few weeks.

It was what she did whenever she was brought the swab containing the smell she was trained to alert him to. It was what she did whenever she was brought the swab containing the smell that meant danger.

“You mean she’s—?”

Sophie’s face broke out in a grin. Even in the deepening twilight, the stars and nearly full moon providing the sole illumination, that grin was breathtaking. It lit up every part of her. “She’s not letting you down, Harrison. She’s not scared of the fire. She’s doing exactly what she’s been trained to do.”

He stared in wonder down at the puppy. He knew, from Sophie’s careful explanation, that this was exactly what he should expect from having a service dog. He could relax some of his own vigilance, slow down to assess Bubbles’s needs and his own at the same time, trust in the puppy to know what he needed before his continuous glucose monitor registered the changes in his blood sugar.

It made sense, from an intellectual standpoint, that Bubbles could handle all this, especially given how well she’d handled training back at the house. To see it in action, however, to know that this tiny, quivering ball of heat was saving his goddamn life right now, was almost more than he could take.

“Come on.” Sophie held out a hand. “Let’s go get you checked. I assume your things are in your tent?”

His first impulse on hearing the wordsyour tentwas to dig his feet into the dirt and refuse to allow Sophie anywhere near it. Nothing good could come of having her inside those ten square feet of nylon with him.

But that was ridiculous. She wasn’t going to attack him. She wasn’t going to ravish him.

At least, not without asking first.

“What a good little nugget you are,” she cooed. “So smart. So brave.”

Harrison knew she was complimenting the puppy for a job well done, but he couldn’t help a feeling of pride from swelling up in his chest. Smart and brave were right—and that washisservice animal they were talking about.

The raccoon under the porch had nothing on Bubbles.

It was asking too much for Sophie to politely keep her distance while he ducked into his tent to pull out his testing gear. That damnable woman wasn’t happy unless she was pushing him—physically, mentally, emotionally. Before he could suggest she take the puppy back to the campfire, she’d followed him in and promptly arranged herself on top of his sleeping bag. She even grabbed his pillow and held it in her lap like it was a stuffed animal.

He bit back a groan. He’d never get the smell of her out of it now. He’d end up being exactly like the Sleeping Beauty she’d mocked him as—snuggling up with that puff of down and fabric in order to feel close to her once again.

“You could give me a little privacy, you know,” he pointed out, his voice gruff.

“I know.”

“You could also take that comment as the hint it is.”

“I know.” She peeped up at him through her lashes. “But you wouldn’t deny me this moment of triumph, would you? I’m just as curious to see if Bubbles is right as you are.”

She had him there. He was, after all, her project—her job. This puppy and this woman might be rapidly becoming Harrison’s whole world, but she had other things at stake.

He unhooked the sling and let Bubbles down. The puppy still showed signs of distress, but Sophie made no attempt to soothe her. She simply let the dog whimper and snuffle about, watching her with a fond, detached smile.

“I know you want me to pick her up, but you’re going to have to get used to the idea that she has to be uncomfortable sometimes.” Sophie spoke in a calm voice that could have been designed to set his teeth on edge. “It’s literally what we’re training her to do. Youwanther to be emotionally invested in your health.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered as he rummaged around in his bag. He zipped open his kit and pulled out a testing strip. “You’re a cold-blooded monster.”

Sophie’s soft peal of laughter filled the tent. “Do you know no one has ever insulted me as well as you before? Or ever?” She settled more comfortably in her seat, pushing out the sides of the tent as she did. “Tell me what else you think about me, please.”

“You have some serious problems.”