Sophie didn’t bother correcting her. She had no idea what she was doing, especially where Harrison was concerned, but that hadn’t stopped her before.

“Half the team is out of town right now, and the other half is working their regular jobs.” Harrison’s voice, loud and resolute, could be heard long before Sophie reached Oscar’s office. “If you don’t let me go, you’ll only have Jessica and Derek and that weird, skinny kid who always puts his pants on backward.”

“Jessica and Derek are perfectly capable of handling a fire of this size, and Benji almost always gets his pants the right way now.”

“Dammit, Oscar. You know I’m fine.”

“I don’t know anything. I’m not a doctor.”

“Look at me. Check my blood sugar. Take my goddamn temperature if it’ll make you feel better. I’m ready. You heard Sophie—she gave me the all clear last week.”

“She cleared you to train, not to fight fires.”

Harrison grunted. “It’s the same thing.”

Sophie couldn’t step into Oscar’s tiny office without brushing her whole body against Harrison—a thing she was determined not to do, even with the protection of her khaki pants and blue polo shirt—so she cleared her throat instead.

Both men turned at the sound, one to shoot her a look of relief, the other to freeze as though the world had suddenly turned as icy as his heart.

The frozen one spoke first. “What the devil are you doing here?” Harrison demanded.

“I came to work, obviously.” Sophie was pleased to find that her voice came out perfectly calm, although she did have to fight the anxious urge to check the state of her hair. It was all well and good to joke to her family that she didn’t care how she looked, but a pixie cut with bedhead was no laughing matter.

“Yes, but…” He trailed off, unwilling to finish that sentence in front of Oscar.

The chicken. The coward. The puppy-wearing baby.

“I assume that the air force training is a no-go today?” she asked, directing her question to Oscar. “I don’t want to get in anyone’s way, so I just popped in to make sure I’m not wanted, and then I’ll take myself off again.”

Oscar’s relief increased as he scrubbed a weary hand over his face. “Actually, you are wanted. I hate to admit it, but I could use Harrison today. Do you think he and that puppy are good to go, or is it too risky?”

One look at the flat, desolate line of Harrison’s mouth, and Sophie knew she held all the cards. He’d never admit it, but he needed her. Maybe not to make his heart whole—he obviously didn’t think her capable of that—but in a professional capacity.

It was something. Not much, but something.