Page 9 of Puppy Love

“Yes, they are,” Sophie said. In fact, given Harrison’s obvious preference for dogs with size to recommend them, a blue heeler would be a perfect fit. Their noses were more than adequate to pick up on the subtle changes in human saliva that occurred when blood sugars rose or fell, and the larger dog would be able to keep up with him as he plunged through forest undergrowth.

In any other situation, she’d have allowed the client’s preferences to outweigh her own. In this situation, however, she was taking a stand.

Bubbles coulddothis. Sophie had done her research, looked into other fire workers with needs similar to Harrison’s, and hand selected an animal based on a careful study of his medical and professional records. This wasn’t some idea she’d come up with on the fly.

“I’ve already talked to Oscar about this, and he agrees with me.” She crossed her arms and did her best imitation of a woman who inspired awe and confidence in others. “It’s Bubbles, or you don’t go back to the field.”

As it turned out, admitting to a man that she’d run tattling to his boss wasn’t an ideal way to win him over. Instead of submitting to her autocratic decree, Harrison’s stance became even more rigid.

Sophie’s natural inclination was to turn to her sisters for help, but she pushed the urge down as far as it would go. To admit defeat now would only foster Lila’s belief that they should have passed on this case. Sophie’d be back on basic training, once again spending her days teaching puppies how to sit and where to pee.

All things that needed to be done, of course, but those were the easy tasks, thesafeones. The kinds of things a fluffy, skittish ball of fur might be expected to tackle.

“If you’re willing to try again, I’ll bring Bubbles out to the side yard so you two can get to know one another. But you have to promise not to reject her this time. She didn’t like it.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “And neither did I.”

“Well done, Soph!” Dawn cheered from the doorway. Before Lila could say anything to undermine Sophie’s swell of confidence, Dawn bustled them both out of the kitchen.

It was a strange location for an impasse. The house Sophie shared with her sisters was as dainty and feminine as Harrison was rough and masculine. Everywhere the eye landed were massive doilies and vintage finds, with dried flowers next to the sink and artfully arranged silver teaspoons hanging on the wall. Only the kennel through the back door gave any indication that this was as much a place of business as it was a home. Harrison wasn’t so tall that his head brushed the ceiling or anything, but he did have a way of filling the space in a way that felt both unfamiliar and unsettling.

It’s not just his size, Sophie thought.It’s him.Whatever else might be said about this man, he was certainly a presence. Being in the same room with him seemed to kindle an awareness in every part of her—atinglingawareness that started in her toes and worked upward from there. It was almost as though her limbs were awakening from a long, numbing sleep, and she wasn’t sure they were ready to support her weight just yet.

“So you reallydoknow Oscar,” Harrison said by way of breaking their strange stalemate.

“Oh. Um.” Sophie blinked. She’d assumed, when Oscar had asked them to take on this case, that he would have told Harrison all about their personal history. That he hadn’t—and most likely wouldn’t unless Sophie gave him permission to—said a lot about him. “Yes, actually. He and I go a long way back. He asked me to take your case as a kind of favor.”

A look of strange relief swept over Harrison’s face. His shoulders actually sagged a little. “Thenthatexplains why you put up with me for as long as you did. What did he say about me?”

“Um.”

“You don’t have to hold back on my account. He won’t have said anything I haven’t heard a hundred times already, believe me.”

As if the sudden turn of conversation wasn’t strange enough, Harrison paused and pulled out a chair for her. It washerchair, obviously, and he was offering it inherhouse, but the gallantry of the gesture was still forefront in her mind.

She didn’t sit though. She was already so dwarfed by this man.

“Please,” he said, his voice rough. “One of the things Oscar should have told you first is that my bark is a lot worse than my bite.”

With that, Sophie relented. She didn’t know if it was the reference to canines that did it, or the fact that he sounded so forlorn, but she took the proffered seat and watched as he lowered himself into the opposite chair. Even in a seated position, he still dwarfed her. Those powerful thighs, the broad shoulders hunched as if ready to pounce—there was no other way shecouldfeel in his presence.

Before she could think of a tactful way to disclose her earlier conversation with Oscar, Harrison lifted one massive hand and started ticking off fingers instead.

“I don’t take orders well. I don’t know how to interact with others in a way that doesn’t make them uncomfortable. I’d rather cut off my own foot than admit to a weakness.” He paused and considered the matter before turning a look of inquiry her way. “Let’s see…which one am I missing?”

Heat rose to the surface of her skin. Sophie didn’t believe any of those things, not when he’d made such a generous and obviously painful effort to return here and apologize of his own volition, but she could see how someone meeting him for the first time might get that impression. Those deep lines, that unsmiling expression… He just looked sohard.

Harrison took one look at her flaming face and swore. “Dammit. He didn’t sugarcoat it, did he? Did he tell you how half the volunteer firefighters I train end up quitting after less than a week or that some of them take one look at me and don’t even last the day?”

Sophie had no idea how to answer that question, so she didn’t try. Dawn would have been able to turn it to a joke, but her sister wasn’t here. She’d scurried off so Sophie could have at least one opportunity to prove herself.

“The week,” Harrison repeated carefully, “or the day?”

She began tracing the outline of a red wine ring on the table. “Do people really quit after one day?”

“Your sister took my measure this morning after knowing me for thirty seconds,” he said. “What do you think?”

Yes, people probably did quit that fast. But people also took one look at her and assumed she had no more courage than a mouse, so what did they know?

“I’m not going to quit, Mr. Parks,” she said. “Oscar asked me to help you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. You’re not the only one with flaws, you know.”