One of his fingers came up and brushed her cheek. His hands were always a little rough, a little callused, and now was no exception. She loved that about him, actually, the gruff exterior that hid the soft, melty marshmallow inside. “No, Sophie. Not now.”
It wasn’t the declaration of love and affection she was aching to hear, but it was enough to give her a feeling of buoyancy as she and Harrison followed Bubbles into the house. She was also propelled by rampant curiosity. She had no idea what kind of woman could capture the heart of a man like Harrison’s father, but she had to be something special.
And hardcore.
“Knock, knock!” Sophie called loudly. As much as she wanted to meet Wallace’s mystery woman, she didn’t want to meet her in a state of undress. “We’re back.”
A grunt from the direction of the kitchen proved that her warning had been a wise decision. It didn’tsoundlike a mid-coital noise, but there was that gorgeous, work-worn table in there that seemed ideal for being bent over…
“What the hell are you doing home?” Wallace appeared in the kitchen doorway before either she or Harrison could walk through. Despite his lean build, he acted as a great barrier, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. “I thought you two were going to a movie in town tonight.”
“We are,” Harrison said, his voice low with suspicion. “We just needed to grab a few things for Bubbles first. Speaking of, where did she go?”
“Uh-oh.” Sophie made a darting grab for the puppy, but she too had noticed a visitor in the kitchen. Her tiny size made it easy for her to slip past Wallace’s firmly planted feet to investigate.
“Well, hello there, little doggy,” a low-pitched female voice cooed. It was a pleasant voice, confident and warm. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing? Wallace, you never told me you had a puppy. You hate animals.”
“It’s not mine—” Wallace began in a scrambling, almost desperate way, but he didn’t manage to finish the sentence. Harrison had stepped forward, his whole body stiff.
“Mom?” he asked. His voice was strangely hollow, sounding as though it was coming from the end of a long tunnel. “Mom, is that you?”
A face materialized next to Wallace’s. At one glance, Sophie recognized the woman as Harrison’s mother. It would have been impossible not to. Harrison’s rough-and-gruff exterior might have come directly down Wallace’s bloodline, but his size and those hard, gray eyes had obviously come from her.
So had the smile.
That was the thing that struck Sophie the most. The woman’s first response at seeing Harrison standing in front of her was one of unadulterated joy. Her eyes flew open in shock, but the lines of her face spread in the same devastating smile that had so much power over Sophie.
Not a beautiful woman, Harrison’s mother, but with a smile like that, she was magnificent.
Like most magnificent things, however, her smile didn’t last long.
“No.”
The moment that oh-so-familiar syllable left Harrison’s lips, his mom’s face fell. Sophie’s did too, but she stepped forward to place a restraining hand on Harrison’s arm.
“Oh dear,” she said, but he didn’t register her touch. “Harrison, why don’t we—”
“No.”
“Harry, my love,” his mother said. She hadn’t regained the smile yet, but she wasn’t put off by the stony-faced front he presented. “It’s so good to see you. And your friend too.”
When no one said anything, she added a tentative, “Girlfriend? Wife? Wallace, why didn’t you say anything?”
“No.”
That final no was Harrison’s last attempt at gaining some semblance of control over himself, but it didn’t work—especially when his dad’s sole contribution was to cough heavily and say, “She’s the dog trainer, actually. The one I was telling you about.”
Sophie winced. To be so reduced in this moment, with tensions so high they were thrumming like a too-tight guitar wire, was hardly the way she’d have chosen to go about things. Apparently, Harrison felt the same way. He turned on his father with a snarl that reminded her of a dog who’d been pushed into a corner and betrayed by the person he loved most.
In other words, it broke her heart.
“How long?” Harrison asked.
Instead of being intimidated by the fury in Harrison’s voice, Wallace squared his stance to meet his son’s. “Not long.”
“How long?” he echoed, his voice growing dangerous.
“A few weeks, that’s all. A nurse called her when you were in the coma. She’s still listed as next of kin at that hospital, and—”