Harrison didn’t bother to stop his groan. If Oscar was an unmovable rock, then Sophie was a whole fucking mountain. Like Bubbles, her small stature and air of fragility were deceptive. He’d battle a dozen rabid Great Danes before he’d willingly tackle her.

“Well, Sophie?” Oscar asked, all geniality. Harrison didn’t have to turn to know Sophie was walking up behind him. He could practically feel the air vibrating around her. “What’s the word on our boy here? Is he ready to get working again?”

“I don’t know about the boy, but the puppy seems A-OK for duty.”

“Wait—really?” He spun, unable to keep the joy from his face.

She shrugged. “Sure. I told you the pair of you have natural chemistry, and you’ve both worked really hard these past few weeks. Starting Monday, I don’t see why you can’t step up the fire exposure. You just have to promise you’ll slow down and step away if she starts to show signs of distress. You can undo months of hard work that way.”

As delighted as he was to hear that he wasn’t going to have to fight a dozen rabid Great Danes to get what he wanted, Harrison frowned. “I’m not a monster. Of course I’m not going to push her too hard if she’s upset.”

Sophie laughed and held up her hands. “Don’t shoot. I forgot how much you love that little dog.”

She was mocking him again. “I never said I loved her.”

“You started knitting her a sweater, Harrison. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

“So far, all I’ve managed is half of a crooked scarf.”

“You let her choose the color.”

“Of course I did. I don’t know what looks good on a goddamned dog.”

Sophie’s eyes twinkled. “He and Bubbles get the all-clear from me, Oscar. Let them loose to do their thing.”

Harrison had been under the impression that he and Sophie had doing a pretty good job of keeping their relationship from showing, but Oscar watched their interaction with narrowing suspicion in his eyes. Sleeping with Sophie probably ranked up there with hurting Sophie in terms of Oscar’s ultimatum, so Harrison decided to change the subject.

“What were you saying about my dad?” he asked.

“Eh?”

“Earlier, when you walked up, you asked me what Sophie had done to my dad.” Harrison paused. “If it’s about the candles, you’re asking the wrong guy. She’s turned him into some kind of essential oil convert. I have no idea how.”

“It wasn’t difficult,” Sophie said primly. “You should never overlook the healing properties of aromatherapy.”