His truck was tall—taller than her Fiat, certainly—but she could have easily made it down on her own. In fact, this kind of assistance, this careful solicitude, was the exact thing she resented from anyone related to her by blood. She was no small, precious thing that needed to be guarded from the world.

But as Harrison’s hands lingered and his fingers crept down toward her ass, she felt nothing but a delightfully girlish thrill. To be cherished and protected because she was perceived as weak was a thing she loathed. To be cherished and protected because Harrison couldn’t keep his hands off her was something she could get used to.

Way too used to, if the sudden throb between her legs was any indication.

He set her on the ground with his hands still in place. Sophie had to look up to meet his gaze, which she did with easy frankness. Just as frankly—but not as easily—she said, “The reason my mom is being like this is because of you. She heard about our, um, altercation at knitting circle and decided you were out to destroy her precious darling.”

A frown touched the corners of Harrison’s mouth. “I was afraid of that.”

“I’m sure this weekend has given her time to cool off, but—”

“You should stay here,” he said, the offer fairly tripping off his tongue.

Those words were exactly what Sophie had been angling for, but she’d expected to have to put forth a lot more effort first. This weird, old house was Harrison’s castle, his home. Considering how strongly he’d reacted when she’d brought out the candles, she’d been prepared to plead her case—and plead it hard.

With sad, raisin eyes if she had to.

“Only if it’s what you want, I mean,” he added. His hands on her waist tightened, gripping her almost urgently. “I can’t promise my dad will like having a houseguest, and it’s hardly the Ritz around here, but you did say there would be some night training, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes. But—”

“Then there you go,” he said. “We might as well start now.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Her gaze searched his, but she was having a hard time reading him. The offer sounded sincere enough, but there was something shifty in the way he made it. It was almost as if he had an ulterior motive in asking her to stay.

What that motive might be, however, she had no idea.

“I’m sorry.” He dropped his hands from her waist and stepped back. “I didn’t mean to be pushy. If you don’t want to—”

“No! No, I do.” Sophie put Bubbles into his hands, once again grateful that the puppy gave her something concrete to do. Her fingers brushed against Harrison’s as they made the exchange, both of them weirdly fumbling.