“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.