Page 55 of Puppy Love

“If you think for one minute I’m going to wear this dog like a kangaroo bouncing through the outback—” he began.

“You’ll do what? Turn this truck around?”

“For starters, yes. And don’t think that sweet, innocent smile is going to save you. I’ve had just about enough of you two wriggling and squirming and licking me until I can’t think straight.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows. “Is there something you need to tell me about what you and Bubbles get up to after hours?”

“That isnotwhat I meant, and you know it.”

“I mean, I don’t like to judge, but there are better ways to work out some of those downstairs feelings. If you want, I could show you—”

He turned to her, his eyes sparking with the laugh she knew so well. “Sophie Vasquez, I swear on my life, if you finish that sentence, I’m getting out of this truck and throwing my keys in a ditch.”

“Go ahead. I’ve got nowhere to be and no one to answer to for seventy-two blissful hours. Nothing you do can bring me down.”

“You’re a strange woman, you know that?”

She nodded happily. Being called strange might not sound like a compliment to most women, but most women weren’t being called strange by a man like this one. The way the words formed on his lips made it sound like both a curse and a term of endearment. In fact, she doubted whether he knew which it was. That was what made it so delicious.

He was just being himself—Harrison Parks. Raw and honest, volatile and real.

“The pouch is a lot less ridiculous than it sounds, I promise.” She gave his arm a squeeze, holding the pressure until his gaze melted into hers. “And you won’t be the only person using one. There are quite a few first responders who carry diabetic service dogs this way. It keeps the dogs close enough to be effective, but out of the way of any potential danger.”

Harrison didn’t look as though he was fully convinced, but he glanced down at Bubbles, who watched him intently, awaiting further cues. Seeing the love for that animal shining so clearly in his eyes, Sophie released his arm. That love was half the battle right there.

“Besides, that’s what Bubbles wants most when she’s scared, remember? I finally figured it out. Hiding under a ruffled bed, nestling against your chest—that’s her pattern, that’s what she’s been telling us she needs. Won’t you feel better out there knowing you’re carrying her close?”

He didn’t answer right away. At first, she was afraid her sentimentality had pushed him too far, but all Harrison did was sigh and scrub his free hand over his mouth.

“If you say so,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. “But you’d better let me see this stupid pouch so I can try it out. If we’re going to unveil it in front of my friends, the least we can do is get some practice in first.”

* * *

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” Harrison swung himself down from the truck, his movements restricted by the squirming ball of fur affixed to his chest with what could best be described as a baby blanket made of canvas.

At least, that’s what it looked like to him. Sophie had assured him, in her typically beguiling way, that it was nothing less than a specialized fire-retardant material to protect Bubbles from the elements. It twisted over one shoulder and wrapped around his upper torso, allowing him full freedom of movement in his arms and legs.

Or so she kept telling him. She had obviously never tried to walk around with a Pomeranian strapped to her chest.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Sophie said as she hopped down from the truck. With the exception of helping him figure out the logistics of the pouch and checking to make sure Bubbles was comfortable, she’d taken no more notice of the puppy. He wasn’t sure how she did it, but she had a way of making the most ludicrous plans seem perfectly rational.

Harrison, I’m going to make you run like a pack mule until your blood sugar drops. And if you stop, I’ll make you kiss me instead.

Harrison, you’re going to wear a baby sling with a puppy in it—and you’re going to do it with a smile.

Harrison, you’re taking me camping for a whole weekend, where the only escape from my soft skin and bewitching smile is jumping off the nearest cliff.

Except now, even the nearest cliff was off the table—unless he wanted to plunge Bubbles into a watery grave with him. Which, as Sophie was fully aware, he’d never do. Not when he was coming to value the little creature more than his own skin, and she damn well knew it.

He never should have put the damn sock on the puppy. It was the sock that had given him away.

“It’s a lot greener than I expected, but that’s probably because of the time of year, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for an answer, opting instead to reach into the truck to hoist the one small bag she’d brought with her.

That was another thing—how she intended to survive the weekend out here with a single knapsack was beyond him. The bag he’d stuffed with sweaters for Bubbles was bigger than that. Either she was the greatest outdoorswoman the world had ever seen, or she had no idea what she’d gotten herself into.

Call him pessimistic, but he guessed it was the latter.

“Do you need any help carrying things? It might feel strange at first, trying to go through your regular motions with Bubbles in the way, but you’ll be surprised how fast you get used to it. Women have been carrying babies like that for all of human existence, and they’ve made it work just fine.” She paused long enough to take a breath and look around before adding, “Where are your friends, by the way? I see cars, but there aren’t any people.”