The Love Shack

Chapter 6

Berkley sipped hercola while watching Lawson and the woman from her small table at the back of the busy restaurant. What a cute couple they’d make.

The woman was all bubbly, laughing and teasing, and Lawson kept glancing at Kathleen in disgust. The poor mannequin was half-naked. Good thing her body parts weren’t in any detail.

If Betty was here, she’d be having a fit. Thinking that made Berkley smile, but the smile didn’t last, not when Lawson raised the woman’s hand and then took a dramatic bow with her.

Maybe they were already a couple and she just hadn’t heard the news yet.

He looked happy, and that was important, right? A guy like him deserved...everything.

When he straightened again, his attention snagged on her. Berkley didn’t know if she should wave, look away, or maybe just leave the remainder of her dinner and get back to the shelter.

Before she could decide, he said something to the woman, who shook her head, and then with his hand at the small of her back, he guided her through the restaurant.

Toward Berkley.

For real, she didn’t need an introduction to his date. She grabbed a fry, ready to stuff it into her mouth so she’d have an excuse to ignore them, but it was already too late.

“Berkley, I’m surprised to see you here.”

Yeah, right. Because, what? She avoided humans? Okay, so she did. “Hi.” Oh, good going. So warm. So carefree. Berkley pinned on a smile. “It’s after-hours for the shelter, so I figured I’d grab some dinner.” It wasn’t easy, but she managed not to stare at the woman standing beside him. With any luck, the two of them would mosey on.

“Oh, you’re Berkley Carr,” the woman suddenly gushed and, uninvited, pulled out the chair across from her to join her table. She stuck out her hand. “It’s great to finally meet you in person.”

Um... Berkley took her hand. “Hello.” Was this another person from her past, someone she didn’t remember? The thought sent a river of ice through her veins.

Worse, what if Lawson had told her—

Since there were no other chairs, Lawson crouched down beside Berkley. “Let me do the introductions. Berkley, this is Lark Penny. She recently moved to Cemetery and she’s made it her mission to meet all the business owners and as many neighbors as she can.”

Lark squeezed her hand before releasing her. “Everyone talks about you and the newly built shelter you’re running. I’ve heard so many wonderful stories about The Love Shack, and your way with animals.”

Relief settled in, but the ice was slow to melt. “We can thank Betty for that. It was all her idea.”

“And she’s been the force behind it,” Lark said. “I know.” Then with a grin, she added, “She’s told me all about it.”

“You know Betty?”

“Of course. She was one of the first people I met.” Lark leaned in and added in a whisper, “She’s giving Oliver fits, but I have my money on Betty.”

“Oliver?” she asked. Did this woman already know everyone?

“He’s opening a fitness place and I guess he and Betty are conflicting on a few things. Oh! I just had a wonderful idea.”

Did this woman never slow down? All the while she spoke, Lawson remained there, near Berkley’s chair, crouched as if his strong thighs didn’t mind in the least.

Well, she minded. “Just a second.” Standing, she looked around, saw an empty seat and hurried over to it. When she started hauling it across the floor, Lawson caught on and took it from her.

“I’ve got it.”

“I figured if you’re both going to stay...”

“Thank you, Berkley. I’d love to join you.”

She hadn’t really invited him to do that, but neither did she mind.

Lark, having overheard him, laughed. “I could have given you my seat. I’m not staying. I just wanted to save Kathleen.”

“And me,” he said as he sat and pulled the chair closer until his knee bumped Berkley’s. He tilted toward her and confided, “I’m not a fan of the mannequin. This is twice now that Lark’s lent me a hand with the ridiculous thing.”

They all looked up then to see people fussing around the mannequin. She now wore a colorful T-shirt with a beach towel wrapped around her hips, and another around her head. Two women worked on her sodden wig, one holding it while another dried it. Through it all, Kathleen leaned against the bar, a drink at her elbow.

It was comical how the town treated the doll. Comical, and apparently disturbing to poor Lawson.

“Look at how she’s getting pampered.” When Lawson rolled his eyes, Lark aimed her smile at him. “You should have put one of your T-shirts on her. That would have been great marketing.”

He looked struck. “You’re right. Next time I’ll try to remember that.”

“Was that your wonderful idea?” Berkley asked. Now that she was starting to relax, she was actually enjoying Lark’s energetic, upbeat vibe.

“No, I was thinking of Oliver. That seems to be my new favorite pastime.”

Now Berkley wanted to meet the mysterious Oliver. Maybe Lark had the right idea about meeting everyone. She should give it a try.

“What’s your idea?” Lawson asked.

“Okay, what do you think of this?” Gesturing grandly, Lark announced, “Cat yoga.”

She and Lawson stared at Lark.

Frowning, Lark asked, “You do have cats, right?”

Berkley nodded.

“Oliver wants to draw people into his new fitness studio, but apparently Betty has an issue with him. But,” she stressed, “Betty loves animals. You have animals. So... Cat yoga!”

“How does a cat do yoga?”

Lark laughed. “All cats are great at difficult poses, right? But cat yoga is the new fitness trend. If you have room at the shelter, you and Oliver could work together to set up a weekly or monthly visit—whatever fits with your schedules—and then those people signed up with his studio would come out and have a special yoga program with the cats interacting. Who knows, someone might want to adopt a cat.”

Berkley drew back. “I can’t let a vacationer take a cat. I have to research them. I need to know—”

“Oh, see, I knew I’d like you. I agree one hundred percent. But it won’t just be vacationers, right? Locals will want to do the fitness classes, too, and especially the cat yoga. I bet Betty would embrace it. Wonder if I could convince her to get some yoga pants.”

Berkley choked, which prompted Lawson to pat her back...and then his hand stayed there, resting on the top edge of her chair. Even though Berkley was acutely aware of his touch, Lark didn’t seem to notice.

“Yardley and Mimi would be on board—you know them, right? They’re terrific. And Emily, Saul’s wife.” She paused for air. “Anyway, there are so many fun people in Cemetery. Plus I imagine Oliver might get clients from the neighboring counties. You could research them easily. They’re close.” She held out her arms. “And the cats would have company. People to love on them and show them affection.”

It was absolutely impossible not to like Lark. “It’s a brilliant idea.” Berkley turned to Lawson and caught his warm gaze on her, his mouth tipped in a small smile. For a second, she forgot everything. “What do you think?”

“I think it could be fun.”

Lark gave a sly grin. “Will you do yoga, too?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“What if I promise Kathleen won’t be there?”

He started to say something, but then Saul, the owner of the restaurant, stopped by. “Sorry for the delay. You two want drinks?”

Immediately, Lark popped up. “Oh, I’m not staying. I was just...” Her gaze went past Saul and then locked on someone. Her voice dropped to a purring rumble. “Speaking of fine ideas.”

She, Lawson and Saul all twisted around, and there was a tall, dark man wearing glasses and searching for a seat in the packed restaurant.

Lawson grinned. “Go get ’em, Lark.”

Without a reply, she darted away.

“Interesting,” Saul said.

“With those two? Definitely. Lark isn’t the type to hide her thoughts.”

“Noticed that,” Saul said. “So how about you? Are you sticking around for a meal?”

Deferring to Berkley, he asked, “Would you mind?”

Like she’d rudely say if she did? She’d probably finish before he ever got his food. Or maybe she’d order dessert. Either way, she was enjoying his company, especially now that she knew he wasn’t “with” Lark. “Of course not. Feel free.”

He switched seats, taking the one Lark had vacated so that he sat across from her. His knees bumped hers again, but the man did have very long legs. “What are you having?”

“BLT, light on the L, with french fries and cola.”

“Sounds perfect.” To Saul, he said, “I’ll take the same.”

“You’ve got it.” Saul dropped the order off, then started circulating the restaurant to offer drink refills or hand over checks.

Lawson sat back in his seat. “Thanks for letting me join you. My original plan was to cut out early and microwave something at home.” His gaze moved over her face. “This is better.”

She offered him a french fry, which he accepted. “As one of my volunteers was leaving today, she said she was coming by here to eat a BLT.”

He grinned. “So here you are.”

“Me and my susceptible mind.” It was nice to share these little parts of herself, things most people didn’t know since she kept to herself. “I had everything at home except the tomato. At first I was just planning a grocery run, but the rain wasn’t letting up. It had all the animals sleepy, including Hero and Cheese, and honestly, I was getting sleepy, too. I decided a little people-watching might wake me up.” She sipped her cola, then tipped it toward him in a mock toast. “Didn’t expect entertainment with the meal.”

“You mean Lark?”

“I mean you waltzing in from the rain carrying a mostly naked Kathleen.”

With a theatrical wince, he grumbled, “Don’t remind me.” Then lower, he added, “I didn’t know she’d lost her top. The way people carried on, you’d think she was real.”

“Real enough to them.” She nodded at the crowd of people taking photos with the mannequin, doting on her and still decorating her. She now wore someone’s sunglasses, and a kid hung a sand pail from her hand.

Lawson didn’t look, choosing to ignore Kathleen instead. “Someone keeps returning her to the well. If she’s not there when I get to work, she shows up before I leave.”

“Did Lark really rescue you?”

Sitting back in his seat with a smile, he said, “She’s a whirlwind, isn’t she? It’s hard not to like her when she’s so happy about everything.” He shook his head as if the woman amazed him. “When I first met her, yeah, she rescued me, but mostly from some flirting vacationers.” He gave it a moment’s thought. “And Kathleen, I guess.” He proceeded to explain how they’d met.

Huh. She hadn’t realized Lark was a stylist, but then, her hair was soaked from the rain and her makeup mostly washed away.

“Today,” Lawson continued, “she was mostly trying to rescue Kathleen since she was left out in the storm.”

“Still in front of your shop?” At his nod, she asked, “You didn’t want to bring her in?”

“Not particularly.” He stole another of her fries. “The comedians around here think it’s funny to turn her head so that she’s staring in at me.” He watched her a second, then murmured, “You’re trying so hard not to laugh. It’s okay, you know.” He popped the fry into his mouth. “I don’t mind. I know it’s ridiculous.”

She did snicker, but only a little. Taking another bite of her sandwich helped to temper her humor. By the time she swallowed and took a drink, she was back to her mostly serious self. “It’s not ridiculous. I’m afraid of spiders. Doesn’t matter if it’s an itty-bitty spider, I still freak out if it gets near me. The really absurd part is that I don’t want them hurt. I just want them relocated. Try explaining that to someone who comes to the rescue.”

He smiled. “I like that you don’t want them hurt. It’s a very Berkley-like attitude.”

Rather than get off track talking about her bug phobias, Berkley asked, “So you and Lark haven’t known each other long?”

“We’ve only spoken a few times, but I like her. She’s...” He searched for a word and came up with “Natural. Authentic. Seems she has a thing for Oliver, but even around him, she’s still herself. It’s like she doesn’t know any other way to be, which is admirable.”

Very true. Genuine people were rare. Chad certainly hadn’t been genuine. He’d lied to her from the start. And his wife? She’d always seemed one way on TV, but in person, her personality was the total opposite.

“If you’re thinking of him, don’t.”

Startled, Berkley looked at him. How had he read her mind?

“Few people are as two-faced as him. He doesn’t deserve your thoughts.”

“You’re right, he doesn’t.” If only it was that easy. “Lark is certainly upbeat and outgoing.” Did that type of personality appeal to Lawson? Seemed so.

“Check out her and Oliver now. He doesn’t know what hit him.”

Berkley glanced around the restaurant and caught sight of Lark seated with the newcomer. Lark was busy chatting and the man appeared bemused. “He’s the new guy to town?”

Lawson nodded. “I’m making up some promo shirts for him—something Lark suggested. He used to be a physical therapist but now he’ll be running his own fitness place.”

“That seems to be a trend, people giving up one career to have their own business here.”

“Think it’ll change Cemetery?”

“Not as long as Betty is around.” The second she said the words, it hit her that at Betty’s age, any day could be her last.

Lawson reached across the table and took her hand. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

She hadn’t realized how she’d frozen until Lawson’s warm fingers closed around hers. It felt good. So good that she didn’t draw away.

And neither did he.

He frowned. “You’re not thinking of that dumbass again, are you?”

She nearly laughed. “No, so don’t bring him up. Actually, it’s just that I’ve gotten close to Betty. I don’t like to think about her age, but it’s a reality.”

He stroked his thumb over her knuckles. “A few years back, when I was working in Haiti, I met a guy who was one hundred and two. He spoke Haitian Creole, French and English. Sharp as a tack and he liked to debate everything—sometimes in all three languages.” Lawson smiled. “My own mother died shortly after she turned forty-five. Hard living, drugs, alcohol, who knows. I hadn’t seen her in years and then I got a notice that she was gone.” His hand slid from hers as he sat back again. “Betty’s still driving, and apparently she’s giving Oliver hell. No one would call her frail.”

Amazing. He’d just revealed all that like it was nothing. To Berkley, each bit of information, the sharing of his life, felt like a gift. The kind she never received, not since her mother had passed away.

She had dozens of questions, and a lot of sympathy to share, but she didn’t want him to regret confiding in her. “Anything could happen at Betty’s age.”

“To anyone, at any age, really. I don’t think you need to worry about losing her yet.”

Saul returned to the table with Lawson’s food. “Sorry for the wait. With the rain closing the beach, we’re swamped, even with all hands on deck.” He’d brought a fresh glass of cola for Berkley and also set out a dessert menu. “I’ll check back in a bit to see if you need anything else.” Snagging the chair they were no longer using, he then disappeared into the crowd.

Lawson picked up his sandwich. “Do you need to get back to the shelter soon?”

“Not unless the rain turns into a storm. A lot of animals get panicky with thunder and lightning. I’d want to be there for them.”

“Then how about coffee and dessert when we finish this?”

Her conversation with Betty stuck in her mind. If he was a keeper, did she dare extend her time with him? She didn’t want a keeper. Men were forever off her to-do list. Yes, she knew that made her seem shallow, judging all men by one bad experience.

But it had been really bad.

And yes, it also made her a coward. She didn’t care. Going through that shame, suffering the vile verbal attacks, the hatred, while also watching her mother’s life fade away... It was a nightmare she’d never be able to forget.

Betty had the right idea. Focus on the positive times. Look to the future.

Maybe have a little fun.

“Should I retract my offer?” His gaze was solemn, sincere. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

With a crooked smile, she shook her head. “You didn’t. I just have the bad habit of overanalyzing everything.”

“Meaning us?”

Especially anything that had to do with him, but she shook her head and said, “Life in general. But yes, if the weather holds, I’d enjoy dessert and coffee.”

Concern remained in his eyes, but he accepted her answer. “Then I’m glad I asked.”

Now that she’d committed, she was glad, too. This was a much better way to spend a dark, rainy evening than sitting home alone, dwelling on things she couldn’t change. Looked like this would be the second time Lawson had made her evening better.

If she wasn’t careful, it might become a habit.

Lark ordered her own meal once she’d decided to intrude on Oliver. Belatedly, it struck her that he might have been meeting someone else. She watched him as the waiter set out their food, grilled chicken and vegetables for him, soup and a salad for her. They were each enjoying iced tea.

“So,” she said, hoping she hadn’t done the unthinkable. “Did you have a date?”

He paused with a bite of chicken halfway to his mouth. “A date?”

“Yes, you know. A social activity between two people who are attracted to each other.”

He went perfectly still. “Lark, this is not a date.”

Her lips wanted so badly to lift in a smile, but she managed to suppress the urge. Barely. “I didn’t mean me, so mellow out already. I’m pushy, but I’m not that bad.”

He didn’t appear to agree.

“By the way, it’s a little insulting for you to look so appalled by the idea of a date with me.” The humor got the better of her and she grinned. “Look, I know I’m a mess right now, and I don’t generally come on strong when I’m interested. I’m just friendly.”

One of his brows lifted, but otherwise his gaze stayed serious behind his glasses.

Oh, he wouldn’t be an easy one, but then, she enjoyed a challenge. “I’m asking if I messed up your plans with someone else.”

After giving her a long look, he said simply, “No.”

She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Because if so, I can get my food to go.”

Two seconds passed in condemning silence.

Never let it be said that she couldn’t take a hint—especially when she was hit over the head with it. “In fact, if that’s what you prefer...” This time she didn’t allow an uncomfortable silence. She quickly shook her head and corrected her words with a laugh. “Obviously, it’s what you prefer. I’m sorry I crowded you.” His clear annoyance left her feeling equal parts insulted and downcast. Ready for an escape, she searched the restaurant to flag down a waiter. “Let me just find someone and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“No, it’s fine. There aren’t any other seats for me to move to, and besides, I’m soaked through to the skin. I wouldn’t mind changing into dry clothes.” Her slicker was cute, and for a dash through the rain it would have been fine. Lingering with Kathleen, though, had done her in. Her hair was sodden. Her makeup was mostly removed...with some smudges remaining.

She hadn’t cared until now. Before realizing that her company was unwanted, she’d been having fun, enjoying the wet rescue of the town mannequin and seeing it as an adventure. She’d been lighthearted, something she hadn’t genuinely felt in too long.

Now, though, well, she refused to analyze the uncomfortable feelings plaguing her.

“Blast. Everyone is so busy. I’ll go to the bar and ask for a take-home container.” She half stood while saying, “Give me just a second—”

“Lark.” He reached out, his hand catching hers and halting her retreat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, really, it’s fine.” Her butt remained off the chair, caught between standing and sitting. She wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe if his hand wasn’t so big and warm, and his touch wasn’t so gentle, almost careful, she’d have found the backbone to tug it away and continue on with her plan of escape.

“It’s not,” he insisted. “I had a hectic day and I’m taking it out on you.”

“Wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t forced myself on you.” Her eyes almost crossed as the words left her mouth. Her, force herself on him? The man was twice her size.

“You didn’t...” He coughed to cover a laugh, then gently tugged to urge her back into her seat. “How about we start over?”

Giving in, she sat. Unlike him, she wasn’t into fitness and her thighs hadn’t been at all keen on the awkward pose. “Fine.” She freed her hand and relaxed back in her chair. “From what point? Where I nearly ran you down, where I hauled you to an empty table, or where I joined you and then ordered food?”

“Back to you almost running me down.” He put his elbows on the table beside his plate, laced his fingers together and tapped them to his chin. “Lark. Hello. It’s good to see you again.”

Ha! She liked this game. Holding out her arms in enthusiastic greeting, she said, “Oliver! Hey. I wasn’t planning to eat but now that you’re here, and I see a table, you should grab it.”

“Consider it grabbed.”

She stifled her laugh to ask demurely, “Would you mind if I joined you?”

His snort was loud enough to draw attention. “That sounds nothing like you.”

Lark put her nose in the air. “This is a do-over, if you’ll recall. Your idea. I can replay it however I choose.”

“Right, okay.” He cleared his throat. “Wow, you’re right, it is crowded. Sure, we should definitely share a table. That is, if you’re not here with anyone else?”

Her heart gave a little jump of joy at his interest, but she did her best to play it cool. “Nope. I was just helping a friend get Kathleen out of the rain, and then in you came. Oh, and that reminds me! Cat yoga.”

His brows twitched down in confusion. “Okay, sorry, I was keeping up just fine until that last part.”

Seriously, she needed to slow down and think before speaking, not just blurt out whatever was in her head. Then again, he was here with her now, sharing a meal and no longer so put out with her. “Go ahead and eat and I’ll tell you all about it, and then you can tell me how I’m the answer to all your problems.”

“All my problems, huh?”

“Well, obviously I don’t know every problem you have, but I suspect your bad day was tied around your fitness center and has to do with the formidable Betty Cemetery, so in this case, I think I can help.”

His brows crowded closer together, but he huffed a laugh and dutifully dug into his food. “Can’t wait to hear it.”

Lark knew she had to pitch this right, to really sell it, and with any luck he’d start to actually like her—because already she more than liked him.

Oliver had to admit, he was impressed with Lark’s pitch. She seemed to be full of creative solutions to problems. “If you ever lose interest in being a stylist, you should go into marketing.”

She gave him a beautiful smile, and even with her dark hair limp from the weather, and her face a little smudged with the makeup she’d tried to remove, she looked incredible. Here, in the restaurant, the color of her eyes matched the stormy skies outside.

He asked, “Have you ever done any yoga?”

“Tiny bit,” she said. “Just at home by my lonesome, not out in a class or anything. I was...” Her words trailed off, and a nearly painful expression fell over her face before she blinked it away and produced an unconvincing smile. “I had a rough patch, you know? I was trying to figure out how to get back to my happy self, and yoga sounded like it could be relaxing.”

“Physically,” he agreed. “Emotionally, too, if you can get into the right frame of mind and adjust your breathing with it.” Oliver couldn’t imagine anything dampening Lark’s spirits. She was always so cheery, practically bubbling over with enthusiasm. Curiosity gnawed on him, but he wouldn’t ask.

However, if she ever chose to share, he’d listen.

She changed the subject. “I have other marketing ideas, if you really wouldn’t mind hearing them.”

“Only if you let me pay for your dinner.”

Her gaze searched his.

He said easily, “I used to pay marketing people, and you’re just giving away incredible ideas. It’s the least I can do.”

“Oh. Well, then...”

Her uncertainty made him feel like a jackass. He’d done that to her, being so cross and cold. Hoping to repair some of the damage, he said, “I’d like us to be friends.”

She said quickly, “I’d like that, too.”

“Perfect. So let’s continue with the do-over. You’ll forget my grumpiness and accept my offer of dinner, and you’ll share these brilliant ideas of yours with me, all in the name of friendship.”

A smile teased her lips. “Okay, then. Thank you.” With a breath, she announced, “Other ideas—although they might not apply to everyone who visits your fitness center. I assume people will be looking for different outcomes?”

“Very much so.” The idea of discussing business with her appealed to him. There hadn’t really been anyone, not since the death of his father. He rubbed his mouth, considering how much to say. This wasn’t a date—it absolutely wasn’t—but if it was, he wouldn’t talk about endless, dull business stuff. So he’d hit the highlights, and if she had questions, he’d answer them.

She watched him as he considered things, then snickered. “You are always so serious.”

And she was always happy. “Just trying to decide how much to share.”

“Your secrets are safe with me.”

Odd, but he believed her. He didn’t know her that well, yet he instinctively trusted her. “Thank you, but we won’t talk secrets tonight.”

“Darn.”

She so easily made him laugh. “I just don’t want to put you to sleep.”

“Plan to be boring, huh? Hey, I have trouble sleeping, so lay it on me.”

His thoughts jumped around from her smile and sunny disposition, to her restless in her bed with some unsolvable worry. Both images made him too warm, and he really wouldn’t mind helping her with the sleep problem... No. This was friendship only. He had to keep that in mind.

“All right, then. The plan is to offer just about everything, from instructor-led classes, to yoga and Pilates, to high-intensity interval training. I was a physical therapist before deciding to open the fitness center, so I’m qualified to do fitness assessments, which is one of the things Betty objects to. She seems to think I should only smile at people and tell them they’re perfect, instead of helping them to reach goals.”

Lark laughed. “That doesn’t sound at all like Betty, because I’m not sure she thinks anyone is perfect.”

“She said her girls had changed her.”

“Her girls?”

He shrugged. “According to Betty, body positivity is a must and I can’t be running a business where I’ll make people feel bad. Didn’t matter how many ways I tried to explain to her that people come to me with objectives in mind and I just help them find the best workout for achievement.” He got irked all over again, and took a long swallow of his tea. “You’d think I had stormed around the town throwing insults at people or something.”

“Betty doesn’t actually own the town, you know. You don’t have to have her approval.”

“Very true. My business has been approved, and strictly speaking, she can’t dictate to me how to run it. That said, the woman has clout around here and I prefer to keep things on an even keel.” He wanted to take an active part in the town, not be treated as an outsider. He could help others, give them a positive outlet when stress, frustration or anger overtook their lives, as it had with his brother.

All of that would be more easily accomplished with Betty Cemetery on board.

“Tell you what,” Lark said. “I’ll talk to her, subtly of course, and tell her that I’d really like to tone up. It’s the truth—the most exercise I get is walking around the salon chair with my arms up to cut, curl or style hair.”

His gaze dipped over her. “You look in great shape to me.” Incredible shape. Distracting shape. He wouldn’t mind seeing more of her shape.

Her lips pursed as she struggled not to laugh. “Thank you. My arms are toned, I guess.” She wrinkled her nose. “The rest of me not so much. I could use some firming up, and some slimming around the hip-and-thigh area.”

“See, this—” he gestured at her body “—is exactly what Betty was talking about. Body image is important, and you have a beautiful body.”

Her eyes flared and she glanced around as if worried others might hear. “I don’t,” she insisted.

“You absolutely do. If you want to work on flexibility, or strength, or just general fitness, I’m happy to help.” Any way at all. “But you don’t need any slimming. You don’t need any firming.”

“You,” she said, pointing a forkful of salad at him, “haven’t seen that much of my body to judge.”

“You wear leggings, Lark. And fitted shirts. Your shape is pretty obvious.”

“It is?”

Oliver leaned closer. “You’re a woman who attracts attention and there’s nothing wrong with that. Body, face, style and especially your smile. You walk in a room and take over—in a good way.”

She shared that stunning smile with him. “Well, you’re making my day.”

“I’m sincere when I say your body is perfect. Perfect proportions, perfect symmetry, perfectly appealing.”

“I think I’m going to blush.”

“You think?” He could see the heat in her cheeks, but damn, she even looked good flustered. “Just so you know, that isn’t the usual body assessments we’ll be sharing at my center.”

That earned him another laugh. “You should try it on Betty. She’d love it.”

“I won’t lie to her, but neither would I give an unsolicited opinion. If she shared realistic goals, I’d calculate a plan based on her age and overall fitness.”

“You sound like a guru.”

He tapped his temple. “It’s just knowledge, learned through a lot of schooling and practical application.”

“And your own fitness,” she said. “Because I noticed right off that you were plenty buff.”

Absurd how much her comment warmed him. “I stay in shape.” He took extra care with his physical and mental health after watching his brother fade to a shell of a man.

“What other knowledge do you have?”

“I’ve learned a lot about setting up and running a business. I have a fair understanding of security, too.”

“Security?”

“For protecting a business, or a home. It’s just something that always interested me. When my parents had security set up at our home, I was in my late teens and dogged the installers every step. Then at a previous job, I noticed some inadequacies in their system and suggested some upgrades.”

“Thankfully,” she said, “there isn’t a lot of crime in Cemetery.”

His frown gathered. “No one can ever be too careful, so even here, I hope you take precautions.” As a woman alone, she needed to be aware of every risk imaginable.

“Sure. I look both ways before crossing the street, and I lock my apartment door at night.”

Not at all what he meant, but her amused smile kept him from belaboring the point. “So let’s hear the details for your marketing ideas.”

“On top of handing out some T-shirts to the hot guys and women in town, and the cat yoga, of course, you could coordinate with Berkley for a weekly or monthly thing where you walk the dogs at the shelter. Maybe have a designated starting point. It’d score big with Betty, I’m sure. Kathleen the mannequin could be there, and Betty could lead it off, like a walk through the park, and around the scenic part of town.”

“Almost like a parade.”

“A parade! Yes, we should coordinate that, too.”

Happiness looked good on her, but then, he suspected this particular woman was always appealing. “I like it.”

“Sounds fun, right?”

He grinned at her. “So fun that one meal might not be repayment enough.”