Page 51 of Puppy Love

Harrison sighed again. “That’s because Iamgoing to light a fire in the grate.” For some reason, putting the action into words felt like just as much of a betrayal as the actual task. Bubbles knew it too—her head cocked in alarm.

His dad paused for an ominously long moment. “Sophie know what you’re doing?”

And there it is.“Nope.”

“Don’t you think you should check with her first?”

“Nope.”

“I think you should check with her first.”

Harrison gave an involuntary chuckle. It wasn’t just the knitting circle ladies who would have gladly laid their lives on the line for Sophie’s sake. Or Oscar. Or, Harrison was forced to admit, himself. His dad had clearly fallen under the same spell as the rest of them.

Not that he’d ever tell her as much out loud. He’d seen that look on her face yesterday when those two ladies had rushed to her rescue. No woman had ever wanted to be rescued less.

No woman had everneededto be rescued less too.

“I know, but I want to surprise her,” Harrison said.

He’d hoped that would be the end of the conversation, but his dad pushed off the doorframe and drew closer to examine the box’s contents. “That’s not going to make much of a blaze,” he said.

Yes, well, that was the whole point of this exercise. A small fire. A small step. A small gift.

It wasn’t much, but Harrison had racked his brain trying to come up with a way to show his appreciation for everything Sophie was doing for him. Gift-giving had never been his forte, but even he knew that the standard offerings—money, a thank-you card, jewelry, hand-knit yellow dog sweaters—wouldn’t suffice. Not when the thing she was giving him was so huge.

And he didn’t mean the stupid weekend off. That was more punishment than gift: Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Three whole days of boring, quiet,emptyliving without her in it. It had only been one night, and he was already feeling the burden of it. He and Bubbles had enjoyed a long heart-to-heart last night about the merits of square-shaped versus circular kibble. This morning, their talk centered mostly on the crossword puzzle on the back of the cereal box.

In other words, Harrison was just as pathetic a man now as he’d been a month ago. The only difference was he knew it now.

So he’d use his three days, dammit. He’d use them hard. Since the day he’d walked into her kennel, Sophie had pushed him and encouraged him, supported him and yelled at him.

But more than that, shebelievedin him.

No one had ever believed in him before, and he wasn’t sure how to repay her. All he had to offer her was this one small thing, this one small success. He’d give it to her too. He’d give it to her if he had to sit here in front of the fireplace every day for the rest of his life, encouraging Bubbles to draw just a little bit closer to the flames.

They might burn you, little one, but that’s the cost of being warm. That’s the cost of being alive.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” his dad said with a shake of his head. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re fighting a losing battle.”

“Believe me, Dad, I know,” he replied. “But I’m going to fight it anyway.”

* * *

“What do you mean, you’re not coming?” Derek Williams, a man Harrison would normally be glad to see standing on his front porch with a giant cooler and a fishing tackle box, frowned and set his burdens down. “It’s our annual trip. If we don’t go before the fire season starts, we won’t have another chance.”

“I’m sorry.” Harrison could hear the skittering of tiny claws over the hardwood floors and angled the door more closely shut behind him. “I wish I could, but I have a thing.”

“A thing?” Derek lifted one of his brows and tried peering around the door. “What kind of thing?”

“A personal thing.”

“False. You’ve never had a personal thing a day in your life. You’re the least sociable man I’ve ever known. What are you hiding back there?”

“Nothing,” Harrison insisted—a lie that was quickly followed by a small thump as Bubbles made it to the door.Damn.She must have gotten through his kitchen barricade. That was the problem with rodent-size dogs: they could worm their way through the unlikeliest places.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.” Derek put a hand on the door and gave it a nudge. Fortunately, Harrison was expecting it. He was also a good forty pounds heavier than the other man, which meant his hold on the doorknob remained fast.

Like most of his friends, Derek was part of the wildland fire crew, composed of equal parts muscle and nerve. Also like most of his friends, Derek was a persistent bastard. The two men had traveled through the fiery gates of hell together so many times it was impossible to maintain anything resembling emotional distance.