Page 30 of Puppy Love

Release his grip on Sophie’s wrist.

Move a hand to her neck, her clavicle, that damnable shoulder just begging for his touch.

Clasp his other hand around her waist and yank her close.

Groan at the sensation of all those soft parts pressed against him.

Groan again when, instead of backing away like a normal person, Sophie opened her mouth to let him in.

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to work. The rules of Harrison’s existence were straightforward and had been for years. When he clammed up and broke down, people backed off. Sometimes, they walked; usually, they ran. The results, however, were always the same.

And bythe same, he didn’t mean this sweet, terrifying scrap of a woman winding her arms around his neck and kissing him back with an intensity that made his head spin. To look at Sophie Vasquez, with her oh-so-deceptive fragility and claims of dependency, you’d think the demands of his tongue would have her cowering in fear. Instead, she was giving back as good as she got, nibbling at his lower lip and arching into his touch. Even when his hand slipped under the loose neckline of her shirt, his rough hand palming the upper swell of her breast, she did no more than sigh into his mouth and press even harder against him.

He proved to be useless against a supplication like that one.

Sophie was still flush against him in a full-body press, so all he had to do to turn her toward the table was move his own body slightly to the right. Using his free hand, he reached down just far enough to graze the side of her thigh. He had every intention of hoisting her up to the table and using the leverage that afforded to start exploring that enticing shoulder with his lips, tongue, and teeth, but he was forestalled by a sharp yap.

Bubbles.

Harrison almost cried out his relief at the interruption. Had anything else happened—an earthquake, a volcano eruption, the sky literally falling down around them—he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop himself from spiraling out of control.

But at that small sound, Sophie pulled away with a gasp.

“Oh!” she cried. Her color was heightened, and her eyes didn’t quite meet his. With a presence of mind he couldn’t help but admire, she turned her focus toward the puppy. “You poor little love. Did we forget about you?”

Harrison didn’t know about Sophie, but he sure as hell had. If anything should have convinced her that he wasn’t fit to have charge of this puppy, it was this. One kiss, one huge loss of control, and he’d pretty much abandoned his charge.

“Here you are, all dressed up in your finery, and no one is paying you any attention.”

Bubbles barked again, this time with less outrage and more delight, her tongue lolling to the side.

Harrison could hardly blame her for her enthusiasm. Having just had Sophie’s full attention, he knew how powerful it was—powerful enough to throw common sense and decency aside.

“Yes, Bubbles, I know. You look very nice. Not at all like a potato. And I don’t know why your daddy is making that sound. I said youdon’tlook like a potato.”

There were so many things wrong with that statement, but he settled on one. “I am not that dog’s father,” he said.

Sophie gasped and put her hands over the puppy’s ears. “Harrison, how could you? You’re going to make her cry. Just when she was starting to get used to it around here.”

He tried to stop himself. He used every ounce of willpower he had left. But just as he’d been unable to keep himself from ruthlessly kissing her, so too was there no way to stop his mouth from quirking into a smile.

It was too ridiculous—the puppy and the sock, the fact that he’d just done his valiant best to cop a feel from a sweet five-foot-two-inch dog trainer who terrified him. If Oscar found out about any of this, not only would Harrison be doing paperwork for the rest of his natural born life, but the man would also probably tear him limb from limb while he was at it.

But still, Harrison smiled. Being in the presence of Sophie demanded nothing less.

“Don’t,” he warned as he caught Sophie’s eye. The gleam of triumph was impossible to ignore. “You already made your point. There’s no need to rub it in.”

“I wasn’t going to say a word.”

“Not a single one?” he said. “Not even about the kiss?”

Her color rose again, a spot of pink on either cheek. She looked adorable like that, flustered and unsure, but her chin came up in a gesture he was coming to recognize.

And fear.In moments when any logical person would retreat, Sophie doubled down.

“What is there to say?” She shrugged and tugged her shirt’s neckline back into place. There was still too much shoulder showing for Harrison’s peace of mind, but at least she wasn’t so…disheveled. “It was nice.”

“Nice?”