The Love Shack

Chapter 9

They finished offnearly the entire pizza and as the evening wore on, Lawson took pleasure in watching all the tension ease out of Berkley. They’d both have an early day tomorrow, but he didn’t yet want it to end. She worked too hard, felt too deeply, for Durkinson to disrupt her now.

Seeing her like this, relaxed and joking, especially with the way she’d been when he first arrived, made him want to protect her. A sentiment she probably wouldn’t appreciate.

She stretched, then stood from the table, and he thought he was about to be sent home, but she said, “I want dessert. How about you?”

Glad that she, too, wanted to extend the evening, he asked, “Whatcha got?”

“Ice cream, or packaged cookies.”

He raised his hand. “Ice cream.”

She grinned, leaned toward him and said like a taunt, “Ice cream and a cookie.”

“Now you’re talking.”

When she opened the cabinet to get down bowls, he saw a plastic storage container. Reaching over her to get it, he asked, “Okay to put the last two slices of pizza in this?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He stored the leftovers in the fridge, crushed the pizza box and rinsed their glasses in the sink.

While putting two cookies in each bowl, she said, “You can stick those in the dishwasher if you want. I need to run it tomorrow anyway.”

He’d always been responsible for his own messes, so of course he didn’t mind pitching in, but it seemed extra nice that she was comfortable enough with him to give him directions.

With that done, he came to stand at the counter beside her. The house was quiet and dim, the pets sleeping, the sun all but set. It was a hell of a pleasant way to spend an evening.

Near her ear, he whispered, “Another scoop of ice cream for me. I’m bigger than you.”

She snickered. “And that means you get privileges?”

He’d like a few privileges—with her, not her dessert—but he was wary of pushing for too much, too soon. “I had a rough day.”

“Oh?” Now looking worried, she glanced at him and apologized. “I’m sorry. I was so caught up in my own drama, I didn’t even think—”

Why not? Lawson leaned down and pressed a barely there kiss to her mouth. “Don’t do that. Don’t apologize for letting me in, okay? I’m glad you shared with me.” Lightly, he fingered the hot-pink tips of her silky hair. It was pretty, and unique, just like Berkley. “Really glad.”

Blue eyes stared up into his before she suddenly turned back to her task.

Well, hell. He’d rushed her after all. “Berkley...”

She closed the ice cream carton, dropped a spoon into each bowl and then faced him once more. “You could do that again if you want.”

Dare he hope? His body certainly did, but to be sure, he asked, “Do...?”

“This.” She came up on tiptoe to press her mouth to his.

Just that, nothing else. A press. Two heartbeats, three.

It was...eye-opening. Fighting a smile, Lawson caught her shoulders and eased her away, his gaze searching hers. “Berkley, when was the last time you kissed someone?”

Heat rushed into her face. “Was it that bad?”

“No.” God, no. “Let me make it clear—you touching me is never bad. You kissing me, any way at all, has my never-ending approval.”

Amusement replaced the worry in her gaze. “So then why the question?”

He rubbed her shoulders. “That felt like your first kiss.”

Issuing a half groan, half laugh, she dropped her forehead to his chest. This time he didn’t hesitate to fold his arms around her.

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining, believe me. I just want to make sure I do this the right way.”

She went still, and said against his shirt, “This?”

He tucked a knuckle under her chin, tipped up her face and kissed her. His way. Gently searching. This kiss carefully explored the texture of her mouth, from the corner to the peak of her upper lip and the sweet center of her bottom lip. Her breath quickened, her lips parted, and he tilted his head for a better fit, increasing the pressure while coaxing her to relax. The slow, easy kiss grew warmer and deeper until she settled against him, chest to thighs. Breathing faster, her fingers gripped his shoulders.

He spread his hands over her narrow back, keeping her close, acutely aware of her past experiences and current reservations. When she made a small, eager sound, he coasted one hand to the bare skin of her arm, up to her shoulder and then her neck beneath her hair. Her dyed strands felt silky and cool, teasing him with the need to hold her head, crush her close and let them both get carried away.

Because this was Berkley, fragile in her own unique ways, and he was just beginning to understand how much she mattered to him, he resisted the urge. Instead, he chose to gradually ease up.

Breathing fast, she murmured, “Now.”

“Now?”

She still clutched at him, and her eyes appeared dazed. “You asked the last time I was kissed. I think that might’ve been my first because nothing before it can possibly count.” She licked her lips and smiled up at him. “So I’m going with ‘now’ as the answer.” Turning away, she asked, “How about that ice cream?”

That quick about-face nearly gave him whiplash. “Sure. Ice cream.” He could hear the rasp in his voice, but damn, his brain and his body definitely had other priorities.

She grinned at him, then picked up both bowls and moved to the table. “I think I need time to consider a few things.”

Of course she did, especially given the news she’d gotten about Chad. “Things like me and you?”

“Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” Never mind that his thoughts were halfway to the bedroom already; he would never pressure Berkley. She’d had enough of that in her life already. “Always feel free to tell me what you want.”

“Lawson?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

He quirked a brow in question.

“Being here, perfect timing.” She lifted her bowl in a modified toast. “Sharing food and conversation.” Her lips, pinker now, lifted in a smile. “That killer kiss. It was...devastating, but in a good way.” Getting serious, she watched him, and added quietly, “And for understanding.”

Her words helped to ease the constriction in his muscles. At the moment, he wanted to be anything and everything she needed. How that had happened to him so quickly, he wasn’t quite sure. He only knew that when Berkley needed someone, if she wanted someone, he hoped it would be him. “If I tell you it was my pleasure, will you believe me?”

“I’d like to, but it’s hard to imagine.”

“I don’t know why. You’re great company. Funny, easy to talk to, smart and sincere.” He looked past her to the couch visible in the family room, where Hero and Cheese slept. “Compassionate, too, and loving.” He looked at her. “Lovable.”

A sweep of red climbed her throat and settled into her cheeks.

Watching, enjoying her reaction to his compliments, Lawson ate a scoop of ice cream.

“I, um, thank you.”

“You know that’s all true, right?” Her ice cream remained untouched in front of her. “Betty clearly adores you. I’m sure Oliver was impressed by you. Lark has had nothing but wonderful things to say about you.”

She picked up her spoon, toying with it. “I thought about some of that, about how friendly and caring everyone is around here. I know I need to be a little more open, especially if so many people are going to volunteer and be involved at The Love Shack. We need that. The animals need it. So I was thinking of putting myself out there a little, maybe hitting up one of the town council meetings, and joining Yardley and the other women for their tea.”

He understood without her having to say it. “But now you know Chad is looking for you and that worries you?”

Nodding, she put a big bite of ice cream into her mouth.

“What do you think will happen if he shows up?”

The spoon landed in her bowl with a loud clink. Head in her hands, she stared down at the tabletop.

“Berkley?” Was she afraid of Chad? If so, Lawson would love the chance to intercede on her behalf.

“When I read the note, I panicked. Even if Chad was nice and only wanted to catch up, I think I’d freak out.” Finally she lifted her face, letting him see her beautiful blue eyes, dark with worry. “I don’t want everyone to know about the scandal. I want it behind me. I want all that ugliness kept private.”

“I understand that.” If their chairs were closer, he’d be tempted to pull her into his lap and hold her. Much as he’d enjoy it, he knew it wasn’t the right move to make. She was opening up to him, and every time she did, it felt special. It felt right—between them. “It’s not really a scandal, you know. Not now. It shouldn’t have been back then, either, and wouldn’t have been if Chad’s wife hadn’t been a local celebrity.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a picture of misery. “I slept with her husband.”

“You didn’t know he was married.”

“But I should have known. I should have found out.”

“Know how I see it? Durkinson is a bastard for using you. If his wife had any backbone, she would have kicked his sorry ass to the curb, not taken out her anger on you, a teenager.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not blameless.”

“Actually, you are. That’s how anyone with a brain will see it. No, don’t tell me what Durkinson’s wife thought. My guess is she reacted on pure emotion.” If he put his anger aside, he could almost understand her reaction. But understanding didn’t make it right. The woman should have seen that Berkley was a shy, backward girl, and that she’d been a victim, too. Instead, she’d salvaged her own pride at Berkley’s expense. “You were convenient—too young and innocent to fight back.”

She whispered, “I haven’t felt young or innocent for a very long time.”

Of course she hadn’t. Their neighborhood hadn’t exactly fostered those softer illusions. People either hardened their hearts or they became prey. “Well, you were.” In many ways, she still was. Strong, yes. Independent, absolutely. But she hadn’t yet learned how upside down the world could be. If she had, she’d know that her innocence, her fresh outlook on life and her big heart were as unique as each animal she adored.

With sudden determination, Lawson sat forward. “Do me a favor if you can.”

“Sure,” she said without hesitation.

Hoping to give her a perspective on her past, by showing her the awesome present, he said, “Give this town a chance. Let them all know you as well as Betty does.” As I do. “I promise you once that happens, there’s not a damn thing Durkinson can say or do that will turn them against you.”

Her lips, those incredibly soft lips he’d kissed moments before, lifted into a slight smile. “You sound awfully cocky about that.”

“I’m cocky about your appeal.” He saw another blush coming and had to smile over it. “Tell you what. Let’s make a date night at Saul’s barbecue. We can fit it in around the monthly town council meeting and the tea gathering you’ll attend.”

“That I’m thinking of attending,” she amended.

“Go,” he encouraged her. “Give it a try.” Give the town a try. “If you don’t like it, then you don’t have to return, right?”

“Says the guy who won’t be drinking tea with dozens of women.” The second she said it, she groaned. “That sounded horrible. And unappreciative. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You’re busy,” he said, understanding her in ways others might not. “You keep a full schedule and when you have free time, there are certain ways you want to spend it.”

Appearing amazed at his insight, she nodded. “I will go, at least once, just to see what it’s about. Same with the town council meeting.” She hesitated, then asked, “I don’t suppose you’d want to go to that with me?” As enticement, she hurriedly added, “We could do dinner at Saul’s after.”

So she wanted his company, did she? He wanted her. Sounded fair. “I like that plan. Will there be more kissing?”

“I hope so.”

Looking into her eyes to gauge her reaction, he asked, “How about if I guarantee it?”

“Better and better. So it’s a date?”

A date. With Berkley. Yeah, he liked that a lot. “One condition.”

She frowned at him.

“The town council won’t meet again until the second Thursday of next month.”

“Oh.” Concentration deepened her frown. “The tea club meets every first and third Monday.”

He was going to need a calendar to keep up. “How about we do dinner this Friday?” That was only a few days away. Before she could speak, he said, “I’ll happily claim every Friday if you’re free. Weekends optional for whenever you have time.”

Her eyes widened, but she said, “Done.”

Well, that was quick and easier than he’d expected. “It’s getting late.” He stood from the table, thinking he should go before he took things too far.

Like to the bedroom. Or the tabletop. “It’ll be another long day tomorrow.”

Berkley smacked her palm to her forehead. “I did it again! You said you had a rough day, and I went right back to talking about me.”

Gently, he tugged her from her seat. “Actually, I steered that conversation, because my issue was embarrassing.”

Her brows lifted high. “You don’t want to talk about it?”

Trailing a finger over the multiple earrings in her ear, he said, “That wouldn’t be fair, would it?” He wanted her to share with him, about anything and everything. “And with you, I don’t mind.”

Relieved he felt that way, Berkley stepped closer. He was right, it was late and she should be winding down. The time with him had flown by, because he made her so comfortable. More than that, he entertained her, and around him she felt more alive than she had in... She couldn’t remember ever feeling like this.

Free. Happy.

Everything with Lawson was unique; it was a relationship unlike any she’d known. “You didn’t pressure me, so I don’t want to pressure you. But if you feel like talking, I’d love to know.” And then, maybe, she could help him, too.

With an awkward laugh, he explained, “Kathleen was back.” His mouth twisted. “Actually, she’s always there. She seems to live in front of my shop now.”

Berkley fought a smile and lost. “It still bugs you?”

“What bugs me most is that someone keeps putting signs in her hand.”

“Signs?”

Fanning out his arms in a grand gesture, he intoned, “Why don’t you like me?”

“Oh, um...” She tried not to grin, but it was pretty funny.

“There was another, too.” He frowned. “Why won’t you be my friend?”

Berkley didn’t mean to, but she barked a surprised laugh. Slapping a hand over her mouth didn’t help, especially when Lawson grinned, too. Someone was really egging him on.

Catching her wrists, he gently pulled her hands away and then tugged her into close, full-body contact. “I love hearing you laugh, Berkley.” He kissed her, a long, steal-her-thoughts kind of kiss, and as he straightened, he said, “Mmm. Love the taste of your laugh, too.”

That sobered her real quick. Tonight had been shattering in many ways. Contact from Chad, her first kiss with Lawson.

Her second kiss.

And now all those special words...

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m right through the woods, okay? If you need me, for anything, will you let me know?”

Anything, huh? She nodded, her thoughts already scrambling, but no. She did need time—time to assimilate this new version of herself, to think about how to handle things with Chad if he dared approach her. And to decide how far and how fast she wanted to take things with Lawson.

“Thank you.”

He leaned in for one last, firm peck. “As always, my pleasure.”

She could really get used to the kissing. How had she gone so many years without realizing how incredibly wonderful, and hot, and stirring a kiss could be?

Chad certainly hadn’t affected her like this—not that there was any comparison between Lawson and Chad. Lawson engaged her mind, her heart, her body... Whereas she’d seen Chad as a port in the storm. Safety. What a laugh. Comfort. So ironic.

“Friday,” he reminded her.

She knew she shouldn’t, but this was new and exciting and she couldn’t resist. Going on tiptoes again, her hands against his chest, she put her mouth to his once more—and didn’t want to stop. Honestly, she could have stood there by the door and kissed him for hours.

It wasn’t fair to him, though. She wasn’t yet sure how much she wanted, or how far to go, so she reined it in, dropped back to her heels and smiled up at him. “Friday.”

With a small, bemused shake of his head, he went out the door, and then waited while she locked back up. Berkley watched through the kitchen door window until he rounded the corner between the house and the shelter, and disappeared from sight.

Floodlights automatically came on at dark as part of the security, but they didn’t reach far into the woods. Lawson would have to walk through the dark to get home and she was suddenly worried. She had a second of reservations and, deciding it would be okay because it was Lawson, she called him.

He answered with “Miss me already?”

Even now, he kept her smiling. “Yes,” she answered honestly. Her small house—a house she loved—felt suddenly empty now that he’d gone.

Of course, he’d probably think she wanted him to come back for...well, sex, so she rushed to say, “It’s dark. Can you see okay?”

“Using the flashlight app on my phone, actually.”

“Right.” Yeah, she should have thought of that. “Not to be a pain, but would you mind—”

“Not at all.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I haven’t told you yet what I want.”

Voice an octave deeper, he said, “Whatever it is, Berkley, I don’t mind.”

Happiness filled her in a way she hadn’t known was possible, like a warm glow, giddiness and contentment all mixed together. “Then you’ll call me when you get home? Just so I know nothing got you?”

“Ah. No problem at all, but those small favors have to be reciprocated. That’s how it works, you know.”

“Really?” She could hear the rustle of the woods around him and hoped he’d left some lights on at his own place. “So what favor would you want?”

Without hesitation, he said, “If Durkinson bothers you, will you let me know?”

“Um...” Any problems with Chad she’d prefer to keep private.

“If he calls, texts and definitely if he shows up.”

Curious, she asked, “What would you do?”

He cleared his throat, and this time he did pause, but not for long. “I’d be there with you.”

So I won’t be alone.“Nothing else?”

“Well... Not unless you gave me permission.”

For some reason, that struck her as funny and she laughed again. She could just imagine what he’d like to do, and to be truthful, she appreciated it. “Okay, sounds like a deal.”

“I’m home now.” She heard the opening and closing of a door. “Good night, Berkley.”

“Good night.” She disconnected, then stood alone in the darkness for a minute, smiling, thinking that saying good night to Lawson was an especially nice way to end her day.

Even nicer would be if he stayed over.

Friday. Now she could hardly wait.

Their first day of cat yoga happened sooner than anyone expected. Once Betty got on board with the idea—boom!—it was happening. Lark had known it would be popular, but the number of people who signed up right away made it possible to get the ball rolling. It helped that Berkley was also accommodating, but then she had a feeling Berkley would do almost anything for her animals, and for Betty. The two of them were close, and seeing that made Lark miss her own family. When she’d moved away, she’d tried to do so on good terms, but it wouldn’t hurt if she called her mother and father, just to say hello.

With the class going, Lark noticed that Berkley looked both pleased and frazzled. She didn’t take part in the yoga, choosing instead to constantly monitor the cats and how the guests were interacting with them. To Lark, it seemed like a big hit. Everyone, including the animals, appeared to be having a great time.

The cats were social and excited, as well as impertinent. No matter how the women tried to guide them, the cats did as they pleased, climbing over, under, atop and behind anyone attempting to follow Oliver’s instructions. It made for a lot of laughs.

As she attempted to follow along, Lark wondered if it was actually Oliver who drew the crowd of fifteen women instead of the cats. He looked far too fine standing there in loose linen pants and a tank that exposed stellar shoulders, honed biceps and strong, hair-dusted forearms. When he’d first begun, a few cats had tried crawling up his legs. Without missing a beat, Oliver had scooped up first one cat—giving it several affectionate strokes while talking to the class—before setting it down and then taking up the other cat.

He was so comfortable in his technique that even a few women flirting with him didn’t throw him off. His smile never changed. He laughed easily at the adorable antics of the kitties. And he was very clear on what to do and how to do it without losing his train of thought.

Lark felt a little self-conscious. Everyone, except she, Berkley and Betty, wore trendy outfits of tight yoga pants and supportive crop tops. They looked amazing. Even Betty and Berkley blended in, since they wore their usual clothes and were mostly just involved in watching over the cats.

And here she was, wearing loose-fit drawstring pants and an oversize T-shirt that she’d bought from Lawson’s shop. At least it promoted Oliver’s facility, but still, she made a sloppy advertisement in comparison to the others.

For the first half of the class, Oliver led everyone doing mostly standing and balancing poses. Then at the thirty-minute mark, he had an assistant take over and he went to the back of the room to watch, every so often kneeling by someone to offer more detailed guidance.

For Lark, it became harder to concentrate. For one thing, she wasn’t used to being quiet this long. For another, she literally felt Oliver behind her. Not that he was focused on her. Surely he wasn’t. He was serious about the class, playful with the cats, and he had plenty of women to draw his attention.

So why did it feel like his dark gaze was on her more often than not?

She glanced back—bam. They looked at each other, or at least they did until Oliver said, “Eyes forward.”

Right. She was supposed to be concentrating on her pose. As she quickly glanced around, she realized she’d lost her place. Her stance was nothing like everyone else’s.

When Oliver spoke directly behind her, she nearly jumped. He had approached without making a sound!

“Square your hips to the front of the mat. That’s it. Face your back toes in. Good. You want them aimed at the corner of your mat.”

She tried to do it, she really did, but then he put his hands on her, much as he had while instructing others, and she seriously wanted to melt.

Clearly she’d been far too long without the touch of a man. No way should she be obsessing about a guy while surrounded by a class of women and with cats crawling everywhere. Cats! Right, she could use that as an excuse. Quickly she dipped to pick up one kitty that brushed against her ankles.

“Good diversion tactic,” Oliver murmured, and moved on to another person.

Giving up, Lark carried the cat and went over to Berkley. “Hey.”

Berkley smiled at her. “Thanks for being here.”

“My pleasure.” She propped her shoulders against the wall next to Berkley. “It’s a hit, don’t you think?”

Betty took up a position on Berkley’s other side. “I’ve gotten some terrific photos.”

Eyes widening, Lark asked, “Photos?”

“The paper you signed when you came in? It included permission for me to take some photos to post on our social media so everyone can see what they’re missing.”

“Er... I’m a mess. I hope I’m not in your pics.”

Betty just smiled, but Berkley protested, telling her how cute she looked, that she could never be a mess, on and on, until Lark laughed.

When Oliver glanced at them, she quickly quieted herself and lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “I’m often a wreck these days. Before coming to Cemetery, I almost never was.” Of course, there were those few weeks when she’d shut herself off from the world. No one had seen her then. No one had known how she’d cried, how she’d so badly wanted...

Berkley put a hand to her forearm. “We got a new cat today.”

Effectively drawn from the memory, Lark asked, “Oh? Which one?”

“She’s not out here yet.” Berkley turned to Betty. “Would you mind keeping an eye on things? We won’t be long.”

With her phone raised again—this time aimed at Oliver—Betty shooed them away. “Take your time. I’ve got this.”

Berkley indicated the door to leave the training room, so Lark followed along, wondering about this mysterious cat. They entered the cat room, currently empty since all the cats were at yoga, but at the other end there was a larger, separate room enclosed with a secure gate, and Lark immediately heard the tiny mews of kittens.

Her breath caught. She’d just been thinking of babies, and tears immediately clouded her vision as she followed Berkley into the room, then sank to her knees before a deep cardboard box. Inside, a yellow tabby lovingly licked on a gray kitten’s head while three other kittens nursed. They were all different colors.

Softly, Berkley said, “We took her in from another shelter, and two days later she gave birth. I hate that she was moved, but she’s better off here.”

Lark wasn’t sure she could speak, not with emotion clutching her throat, her heart. She nodded, reaching over to pat Berkley’s arm to let her know that any animal was better off with her.

Apparently, Berkley understood. “You can pet her if you like. Or the kittens. She’s amazingly gentle, and she’s a wonderful mama.”

Oh God, Lark wasn’t sure she could. She knew tears were rolling down her cheeks, but she couldn’t stop them.

“It’s okay.” Using the back of one finger, Berkley stroked the cat’s head. “She’s here now, and we’ll take very good care of her and her babies.”

Lark wanted to explain, but she couldn’t. She did manage to say “Thank you.”

For the next few minutes, she and Berkley sat in silence.

Then Berkley said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Not so subtly, Lark wiped the tears from her cheeks and drummed up a smile. “Oh?”

“Are you good with color?” To explain that, she lifted a lock of her hair. “I need a refresh, and I usually do it myself, but it’s a whole process, and now I’m so busy—”

“I would love to do your hair.” Thrilled with the distraction, Lark drew a breath and half turned to face her. “Your hair is beautiful, fun and it totally suits you. You have great style, Berkley.”

Her smile looked more like a self-deprecating smirk. “Style wasn’t really my goal when I changed everything. Mostly I just wanted to be different.”

“From other people?”

Berkley shook her head. “From myself, from who I’d been.” Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I was a very mousy girl, somewhere between plain and homely.”

“No way. I will never believe that.”

“It’s true.”

Skeptical, Lark said, “Your bone structure says otherwise. Maybe as a girl you just didn’t know how to feature your assets, like your eyes. You have gorgeous blue eyes.”

With a startled laugh, Berkley said, “Thanks. I think your gray eyes are really pretty, too.”

Lark grinned at her.

“And you always look great.”

She certainly tried. “My style is quieter, sort of soft, but yours is edgy and bold and I’m envious because you totally pull it off.”

Musing, Berkley looked her over. “I’d call your look romantic. I love the way your dark hair rests on your shoulders, and your eyes look dreamy with your pale peach skin and all those dark eyelashes. You don’t even need mascara.”

What wonderful compliments. “You’ve certainly made me feel better.” It was only a partial fib. She didn’t like being down; she much preferred to be upbeat, to be happy and to make others happy, too. Berkley had her well on her way. “Now, let’s talk about your hair. The pink is incredible. I really, truly mean that, but have you ever thought of going with something darker? Maybe red? That’d complement your skin tone, too.”

“Sold,” Berkley said. “When can I set an appointment?”

Surprised by her enthusiasm, Lark laughed. “You can come to the shop if you want, but I’d be happy to do your hair at your place if that’s more convenient for you.” This time she brushed the tears away for real, not caring if she’d just smeared her mascara once more. “We’re going to be friends, right?” She grinned hugely. “What am I saying? We’re already friends. But we could be better friends. I’d like that.”

“I’d really like that, too.” Berkley’s gaze searched over hers. “You’ve got a little... Wait right here, okay?” Popping to her feet, she left the room, went through another door and returned seconds later with paper towels, one of them damp. Kneeling in front of Lark, she asked, “Do you mind?” And then Berkley dabbed at her cheeks. “You got emotional seeing the kittens, something I do sometimes, too, and I didn’t want you to leave here with streaks.”

“It’s the curse of makeup,” Lark said, looking up at the ceiling to make it easier for Berkley to get beneath her eyes. “Babies of any kind get to me.” And damn it, that almost set her off again.

Berkley saved her by fanning another paper towel in front of her face. “Breathe,” she whispered. “I hear everyone filing out, so the class must have ended. My guess is that Oliver will come looking for you any minute.”

“Do you think so?”

“Are you kidding? He couldn’t take his eyes off you during the class.”

Oh, she hoped that was true. “Am I wrecked?”

“No.” Berkley stood, then offered her a hand. “If he asks you about it, laugh it off and blame it on the kittens.”

Er... “It was the kittens.”

Expression gentle, Berkley said, “Okay.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I do.” Berkley looked down at the mama cat. “You were already looking a little sad, though, and that’s why I brought you back here to see them. It’s okay. Believe me, I have my own stuff I’m dealing with, so I won’t pry into your business. Maybe... Maybe just know that if you ever want to talk, I’d be happy to listen.”

Oliver came into the cat room, looked around, and once he spotted them, he headed in their direction.

“See,” Lark whispered. “We’re going to be very good friends, I can tell.”

As soon as he reached them, Oliver said, “There you are,” and his concerned gaze went from one to the other. “Everything okay?”

“Babies,” Berkley said, pointing down at the box. “You can pet, but don’t pick them up yet.”

“Kittens,” Lark specified, hoping she didn’t get weepy again. “Want to see?” She could show them to Oliver, talk a few minutes, then head home, where a warm shower, a brownie and a book would help her to regroup.

He said to Berkley, “Betty is waiting to talk to you.”

“Thanks. Make sure the door is closed securely when you leave this room.”

“We will,” Lark said, and moments later, she and Oliver were alone.