by Lucy Gilmore
“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.”
“We don’t camp in this spot. We hike in. Three miles in, actually.”
If he expected that piece of news to slow down the indomitable Sophie Vasquez, he was bound for disappointment. At the thought of an hour-long walk through rugged terrain with only him for company, her face lit with a beaming smile. “Do we? How fun. We’ll be so remote, even cell phone reception won’t be able to reach us. My mother may never recover.”
The power of her smile nearly made him stagger. He’d never met a woman so full of joy for no reason other than because she felt like it. He’d grunted like a caveman, resisted every opportunity to grow, and kissed her like someone who hadn’t touched a woman in years, and she’d responded to each with unadulterated pleasure.
He had no idea what to do with so much happiness within his reach.
Actually, he did have a few ideas. That was the whole problem. More than anything else, he wanted that same happiness for himself. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see any way of getting it that wouldn’t involve stealing it out of Sophie’s grasp.
“Yeah, well. Don’t get too excited. Where cell phone reception can’t reach, neither can indoor plumbing.”
Her nose wrinkled at that, but it didn’t stop her. “You’re just trying to scare me.”
“Is it working?”
“No. I’ve suffered worse discomforts in my life than peeing in the woods.”
He laughed and handed her a pack containing most of his food and medical supplies. It wasn’t as heavy as the one with the rest of his camping gear, but she still staggered under the weight. He would have gladly carried it himself—that and everything else he’d brought for the weekend—but he knew her well enough by now to realize that his chivalrous urges wouldn’t impress her. In fact, she’d buck against them with everything she had.
He had no idea what was wrong with Sophie’s family, but they obviously had blinders on when it came to her capabilities. He’d yet to find one goddamn thing this woman couldn’t do, and the way she set her face and hoisted the thirty-pound pack onto her back confirmed it. Especially when she turned to him with her beaming smile and said, “I’m ready when you are.”
It took Harrison a few minutes to get everything bundled on his own person. Every movement of his arms seemed like it would send Bubbles tumbling out of the sling, so he took things slow.
Up and down. Left and right. Twist and turn.
Huh. It seemed to be working. Not once did Bubbles protest or give any indication that she was uncomfortable. In fact, she seemed to be loving it. All it took was one glance at her head, held high as she took in the sights from her exalted perch, and Harrison knew. He could strap that damn dog to the top of the Empire State Building, and she’d eat it up.
Since he knew Sophie would be able to tell if he slowed his pace for her benefit, he finished strapping on his pack and headed toward the trailhead with his usual long stride. He also asked the question that had lingered on the tip of his tongue for the past ten minutes.
“What discomforts?”
“Huh?” Sophie’s voice came from right behind him, her presence so palpable the air between them seemed to crackle with electricity. “What are you talking about?”
“You said you’ve suffered worse discomforts in your life than peeing in the woods.” He did his best to ignore that thing, that sensation that pulsed in all the places their bodies didn’t touch. From the way his voice almost broke at the end, however, he wasn’t sure he managed it. “I’m wondering what those could possibly be. I mean, I’ve met your sisters. I doubt they duct-taped you to walls and made you eat bugs when you were a kid.”
“Ew. Of course they didn’t. Who eats bugs on purpose?”
He had to laugh. “You will, by the time this weekend is over. I should have warned you that we hold an annual cooking contest for our first meal—but the trick is, you can only use food that you find or catch. Most of us try for fish
or small game, but it usually dwindles down to twigs and bugs by the time the deadline’s near.”
“Really?” Once again, Sophie defied all reason and logic by squealing in excitement. He even caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye that he could have sworn was a victory leap. “That sounds so cool. Does anyone oversee the process to determine what’s safe to eat?”
“Nope. The risk is half the fun.”
“Camping is weird,” she said happily.
“So are my friends.” Harrison hesitated, unsure whether he should forge ahead. The logical part of his brain issued a warning to back off, to avoid the personal disclosures that would inevitably bring them closer together.
But he couldn’t help it. His urge to get to know this woman, to talk about her feelings, was even stronger than the urge explore every inch of her body.
“So if it wasn’t torture at the hands of your siblings, what was it?” he asked. “Corporate icebreakers? Blow-up furniture? A clown living in your sewer?”
“Um.”
“I can keep listing uncomfortable things.” He paused. “Oh! I know. It’s those little wooden spoons that come with the cups of ice cream. You know, the ones that feel like tongue depressors? God, I hate those things. There’s something unnatural about putting a stick of wood in your mouth.”
She laughed, the sound tinkling like bells through the wilderness. “You have bizarre dislikes.”
“You only say that because you’ve never tried sitting on an inflatable couch.”
He thought that would be the end of it, and they’d keep marching along the trail to the tune of their playful banter, but Sophie’s feet crunched to a halt. He stopped, more out of instinct than anything else, and looked back at her.
His breath caught. She looked so much like she had the day they met, when he’d come to the kennel to find a wary, worried young woman who’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that she was about to face a monster.
He’d thought she’d seen past that—realized Harrison was coming to cherish her happiness more than his own—but now he wasn’t so sure.
“What is it?” he asked, his throat tight with suppressed frustration. It’s happening again. It’s happening with her. “What did I say? Sophie, please—you know I’m not good with words.”
She didn’t flinch at the emotion in his voice. Instead, she tilted her head and examined him in her usual inquisitive manner. “Didn’t you ever wonder how I know Oscar?” she asked. “Or why I agreed to help him out with your case?”
The question took him by surprise—mostly because he didn’t know, and it had never occurred to him to ask. He’d been so wrapped up in his own affairs that he hadn’t wondered what Oscar had done to coerce this kindhearted woman into doing his bidding.
“No, but I’m wondering now. Was your…? Did you…?” He paused and forced a deep breath. Before Oscar worked the desk at the Department of Natural Resources, he’d been a more-than-adequate firefighter of his own. He always joked that he planned to stay behind that desk until Harrison finally decided he was too old to dig ditches and take his place. The number of lives he’d saved in the line of duty probably numbered in the thousands. “Did he save you from a fire?”
“Not a fire, no.” Sophie’s voice became remote, a part of her drawn inward. “But he did save me.”
Harrison waited, aware that she was struggling with something he couldn’t fathom. The location was perfect for it, the winding dirt path silent save for the rustling of the breeze through the trees and the occasional call of a friendly bird. Sophie was perfect too, her features taking on a firm resolve that transformed her from a pretty woman to a beautiful one.
Nothing was more heart-stoppingly stunning than Sophie Vasquez in a state of determination. It was what made her so good at breaking him down. When that determination zeroed in on him, he didn’t stand a chance.
“He donated his bone marrow to me,” she eventually said, for once without her usual smile. “I, um…well…I had leukemia for a really long time. For most of my adolescence, in fact.”
“Wait. You’re the miracle girl?”
She winced.
“I’m sorry—that’s what he used to call her. The girl. You, I mean. That must have been…” He covered his flustered response by doing some rapid calculations in his head. He’d been working with Oscar a few years by that time, no longer a volunteer or summer contract worker, but part of the year-round team. He’d been a bit of a cocky shit too, but most of the people who joined the crew were. Plunging into blazing infernos required a certain level of brazenness. “What—ten, twelve years ago?”
“Eleven, give or take a few months.” She shifted from one foot to another, still looking unaccountably distressed about the whole thing. “It’s why my family is so overprotective of me. I was sick for so long they got into the habit of taking care of me and never learned how to stop.”
He wasn’t sure why she looked so uncomfortable—of the two of them, he was obviously the biggest ass. Here he was, joking about the deprivations in store for her on a fully funded state parkland when she’d gone through so much worse. Hell, even his two diabetic comas seemed paltry in comparison.
Foot, meet mouth. Harrison Parks, meet speaking before you think. It was a tale as old as time.
“Shit, Sophie,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
She transformed almost before his eyes. How a woman as small as she was could suddenly seem larger-than-life was beyond him, but that was what she did. Her eyes flashed a dangerous warning and she vibrated with some unknown energy.
“Don’t you dare say that to me,” she warned, that energy sparking out her eyes. “Not ever again, not if you want to keep standing.”
He didn’t laugh. The idea of this five-foot-two pixie forcing him to the ground was ludicrous in the extreme, but he didn’t doubt that she could do it. She’d already flattened him so many times—and in so many different ways.
“I’m sorr—” he began before her grunt of exasperation stopped him short.
“Don’t pity me,” she said. “I only told you because I wanted you to understand. Why I’m here, why I’m determined to see this thing through no matter what.”
Pity had been the last thing on his mind, but her meaning hit him like a punch to the gut, preventing him from defending himself the way he wanted to.
“You’re here because Oscar asked you to be,” he said, his voice flat.
“Yes.”
“Because you’d do anything for him.”
“Yes.”
“Because he saved your life.”
“Yes.”
He didn’t say the next one out loud. He didn’t need to. Because the only reason anyone would be willing to dedicate that much time and energy to someone like me is to pay off a debt.
All the pieces suddenly clicked into place—why Sophie pushed so hard, why she was willing to give so much of herself to him, why she was so determinedly, irrationally cheerful about it all.
It wasn’t for his benefit. It was for Oscar’s.
And the worst part was he couldn’t even be upset about it. Since the moment Sophie had walked into his life, he’d known he didn’t deserve her. He wasn’t warm. He wasn’t welcoming. He wasn’t even all that amusing.
In truth, he was just a job. A fun job, maybe, and an occasionally pleasurable one, but still just a job.
Finally—finally—things were starting to make sense.
“Okay,” he said.
She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “What do you mean, okay?”
“I mean, okay. Thank you for the piece of backstory. It explains a lot about this situation. But we should probably keep going if we want to get to the campground sometime today.”
Her gaze didn’t grow any less suspicious. “That’s all you have to say? That you want to keep walking?”
Yes, if only because he didn’t trust what would come out of his mouth if he opened it again. With a tight nod, he turned and continued down the pat
h.
Their sunny walk through the wilderness suddenly felt like a death march. Nothing lasted forever. Nothing stayed the same. Harrison had known it for almost as long as he’d known his own name. Even his Aunt Caroline had left by the time he’d turned twelve.
Now, history was repeating itself with a vengeance. Sophie was only on loan to him for as long as it took to complete the puppy training, and then she too would walk away without a backward glance. It should have made him happy to be back on this oh-so-familiar ground, to see the end before it blindsided him, but it didn’t.
Just once, it would have been nice to see what happened if someone stayed.
Just once, it would have been nice to know he was worth sticking around for.
Chapter 14
“Fish are, of course, the best way to win the contest, but you have to actually be able to catch them. Can you catch them?”
“Me?” Sophie glanced around, even though it had only been her and a fearfully capable woman named Jessica standing at the river’s edge for the past few minutes. “Um. I don’t know. Is it hard to do?”
Jessica grinned. She’d been doing a lot of that since she was paired with Sophie for the infamous cooking challenge. Sophie wasn’t sure she cared for it—her outdoor capabilities weren’t that bad—but at least the other woman didn’t seem to hold her lack of skills against her. “It can be. Did you happen to bring your own rod and tackle?”
Sophie sighed. “I’m assuming that’s not a fun euphemism for a date, is it?”
Jessica shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. And even if you didn’t bring that kind of rod and tackle, there are plenty of extras to go around. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is something of a boy’s trip.”
Oh, she’d noticed all right. Derek hadn’t been lying when he’d said that a few of the men brought their significant others on this trip, but the ratio skewed decidedly male. And not just the ordinary kind of male—these guys were intensely masculine, flannel-clad outdoorsmen.
She didn’t mean that in a bad way. Harrison was an attractive man, there was no doubt about that, but the amount of scratchy-bearded overgrowth and well-sculpted swagger out here was nothing short of miraculous.