Page 20 of Puppy Love

He placed a protective hand on Bubbles’s head. “You practically forced me to bring her home in the first place.”

Sophie stood still for a moment, watching the pair of them. The idea of anyone believing her capable of causing harm to Bubbles was laughable. The idea of a man like Harrison thinking it was downright ludicrous. Yet that was exactly what he did think—and he was willing to put himself on the line to stop her.

What else might he be willing to do?

Curious, she placed her hands on her hips and put on her sternest expression. “I’m afraid it’s my call, Mr. Parks. Until the training certificate is placed in your hands, Bubbles remains under my care. If I feel she’s in a dangerous position or is incapable of performing her duties, I’m going to take her back to the kennel and reassign you a new puppy.”

“The devil you will.”

She almost laughed out loud at the expression that accompanied this oath. In all her life, she’d never seen a more physically imposing man. Harrison obviously hadn’t had time to shave that morning, his hard jaw scraped with stubble that gave him a menacing air. His expansive chest swelled with emotion, and his face took on a hard look that could have turned entire villages to stone. He also planted his legs in a subconscious gesture that she assumed was supposed to intimidate her.

And it would have too, if not for the fact that he was cradling a puppy in his arms with all the reverence one would show a newborn baby.

“Legally, she’s still the property of Puppy Promise,” Sophie said.

“I don’t care.”

“You will if I show up here with a court order and the full force of animal control at my back.”

He hesitated, casting an anxious glance down at Bubbles. Bubbles, supremely oblivious of the battle currently being waged over her, wagged her tail in response. “You can do that?”

She had no idea. In fact, she was pretty sure Harrison could demand that she leave his property or be charged with trespassing, but she wasn’t about to point that out—not when she was finally getting somewhere. She had no idea how or why it was, but Harrison was never quite as accessible as he was when she took a stand against him.

“Your work is too dangerous for her,” she said now, testing her theory. “I’m sorry, but that makes you an unfit parent.”

“Well, I think you’re an unfit dog trainer,” he retorted. “Getting a man all attached and then taking his puppy away.”

As was the case yesterday, Sophie felt an overwhelming urge to giggle. Harrison Parks was attached. Less than twenty-four hours in, and Bubbles had successfully wooed him—and if the look on his face was anything to go by, wooed him hard.

She took a step closer—not a threatening one, but one of invitation. “What if I promised you could have Rock instead? Big, fierce, oh-so-strong Rock?”

“I wouldn’t believe you. You’re a liar.”

Just as no one had ever yelled at her before, neither had anyone called her a liar. She took another step. She was near enough now that she could feel the power emanating off of him, the heat. She liked it more than was good for her.

“Well, you’re a bully,” she said. “Scaring a poor, defenseless woman like me. Making me quake in my shoes.”

“Bullshit.” Despite the severity of the word, there was no force to it. In fact, as Sophie looked up into Harrison’s face, she saw the lines lifting, his irresistible smile wiping away every harsh thing he’d ever said or done. “You’re not scared of me. You’re not even a little bit nervous.”

“That shows what you know. I might go hide under the bed.”

“Well, I won’t come get you.”

“I might make Bubbles hide there with me.”

“You’ll have to pry her out of my cold, dead arms first.”

“What in blazes is going on up here?”

By this time, Sophie and Harrison had come almost toe-to-toe, his bare feet separated from her tennis shoes by only a fraction of an inch. At the sound of his father’s voice, they both jumped back—Sophie, because she was genuinely startled; Harrison, because a flush of guilt replaced his smile.

“Does one of you want to explain why it sounds like there’s a presidential debate taking place on the goddamn landing?” his father demanded.

“Jesus, Dad.” Harrison’s guilty flush didn’t abate any. If anything, it grew more pronounced. “You could have just come up here and asked. There’s no need to yell.”

“Why the hell not? That’s what you were doing. Not at this poor scrap of a girl, I hope.”

Harrison glanced quickly at her, almost as if assessing whether or not she was about to fall into a maidenly swoon. Since she wasn’t—not even close—he took on an almost juvenile defiance. “She started it.”