“Listen, Mr. Parks.” The sharp rap of her voice startled even herself. “I appreciate that Bubbles isn’t what you had in mind, but you need to at least consider what she has to offer.”

His gaze—that hard, disappointed one—snapped in her direction, and Sophie instinctively froze. Now that she’d uttered her reproach, she wasn’t sure what came next. Her sister Lila would probably segue into an articulate and professional speech about the Pomeranian’s finer points. Her other sister, Dawn, would try a coy smile and a low purr to get her way.

Sophie didn’t have any such methods for handling recalcitrant clients. No one had let her have a recalcitrant client before.

“She’s not nearly as bad as you think,” she said, soldiering on. “In fact, I think you’ll like her. You just have to take a deep breath and give her a try.”

He held her stare, his eyes a stony gray that made her think of battlements and cavernous quarries, but at least he complied. Even breathing, he seemed to be exercising every muscle in his body, the swell of his massive chest like an ocean rising.

It worked though. Already, he looked much less like he wanted to storm out the door and report her to the authorities—or, worse, to her sisters.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m breathing. What’s next?”

Sophie blinked. Breathing had seemed like the most logical first step, but she had no idea what came after that.

Yes, she did. Cuddles. No one could resist puppy cuddles—it was almost as universally acknowledged as the fact that Harrison had chosen the Great Dane as his first pick. Maybe she wouldn’t be so bad at this after all.

“That all depends on you,” she said. “Would you rather climb into the kennel with Bubbles for your introductory session or take her outside?”

For the second time in as many minutes, his gaze sharpened as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t blink or move, just stood there staring at her as though he were looking through a ghost. People did that quite a lot actually—looked through her as though she were nothing—but not like this.

He didn’t seem dismissive of her or more interested in the greener pastures that lay beyond. He seemed, well, scared.

“You want me”—he pointed at himself—“to climb in there? Do you have any idea how far the human body can feasibly bend?”

Sophie had to tamp down a laugh. Now that he’d pointed it out, the idea of that six-foot bear of a man climbing into a pen and snuggling with a baby Pomeranian did seem a little preposterous.

“Outside it is, then,” she said. “Just scoop her on up. Don’t worry—she won’t be afraid of you. She likes to be carried.”