The Love Shack

Chapter 12

It was brightand sunny on Sunday when Lark knocked on the back door of Berkley’s home. She immediately wondered if she should have gone to the front, like an actual visitor, but she’d never seen Berkley use that entry and—

The door swung open and Berkley welcomed her with a huge smile, Hero and Cheese at her side. One of the things she liked most about Berkley was her love of animals. The other was her warm way of greeting people. She wasn’t a chatterbox like Lark, but her reserved manner felt cozy.

The cat shot out before Lark could step in. “Oh, no!” Juggling her supplies, she reached out, but she wasn’t even sure how to catch a cat, and it was already too late anyway. Cheese raced off as if being chased.

“It’s fine,” Berkley told her. “Cheese is a free spirit. I long ago gave up trying to keep her contained.”

“Where do you think she’s going?”

“Probably to steal something else from Lawson.” As they went inside, Berkley explained about her cat’s history of swiping things. It was an amusing story.

While Berkley poured them each iced tea, Lark took a few minutes to greet Hero. Unlike Cheese, the dog tended to stick right with Berkley most of the time.

“Where do you want to do this?” Lark asked. “I can set up anywhere.”

“I guess just the kitchen, if you’re sure that’s okay.” Wrinkling her nose, Berkley said, “My bathroom is really tiny.”

“No problem at all.” After digging around in her enormous tote bag, Lark located a small towel that she opened on the counter, set out two bowls, mixing brushes, tubes of hair color, scissors, combs, clips and foils. Lastly, she withdrew a large clear plastic shower curtain and spread it over the floor. When she realized Berkley was watching with interest, she said, “To avoid any drips and to catch any hair.”

“This is all new to me,” Berkley admitted. “I’ve always done my hair myself, and it shows.”

“Are you kidding me? Girl, you have hidden talents. Your hair looks amazing. I totally thought you had a high-end stylist.”

Dubious, Berkley slanted her a look. “I have gotten it trimmed a few times, but just at those supercheap walk-in places. I’m kind of excited for this new experience.”

“Me, too. I actually love doing hair, so yay me. Not everyone can say they enjoy their job.”

“I feel the same about my job, so I know what you mean.” Berkley tugged at a hank of hair over her ear. “I was thinking...”

“Hair idea? Lay it on me. I’m flexible.”

She eyed the products Lark had set out. “If you already had a plan, I don’t want to throw a kink in the works.”

“Ohhh, a kink,” Lark teased. “Seriously. Let’s talk about it.” She took a seat and tried to look solemnly interested, when really, she couldn’t wait to get started. She hadn’t lied about Berkley’s hair. It was gorgeous and thick, and Lark wanted to play with it, style it, be adventurous with color and give her a great cut.

“Well.” Berkley took the seat opposite her. “What would you think of me going back to my natural color, which is sort of a plain medium brown, but still with some color to jazz it up?” Rushing on, she said, “I dyed it so long ago just to be different, to look like someone other than myself. But now...” A slow smile appeared. “Now I’m kind of reconnecting with the old me, but meshing it with the new me, and I think it’d be easier to maintain if I just—”

Shooting out of her seat, Lark exclaimed, “Love it!” She threaded her fingers into Berkley’s hair and examined her roots. “I can see the color under the bleach. It’s beautiful! Not plain brown at all, but more auburn.” Turning to the counter, she located her phone and began scrolling. “Oh, this. What do you think?” She turned the screen for Berkley to see an image of a woman with brown hair, but with a few lighter, more golden streaks around her face. “It’s still bold, but it would be beautiful with your coloring.”

With new excitement, Berkley sat forward to view the image. “Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s stunning.” She twisted her mouth. “It won’t look like that on me, though. That woman has really healthy hair.”

“Your hair isn’t unhealthy. I think you’re just tired of it. Admittedly, this style will look a little different, though,” Lark agreed. “Your hair is wavier, which I actually think will be better. Trust me?”

A grin that turned into a laugh preceded Berkley’s enthusiastic nod. “Tell you what.” She threw out her arms. “Do as you like. Surprise me. I trust you completely.”

Such simple words, but they meant a lot to Lark. Pressing a hand to her heart, she said, “Thank you.” At the most critical moment of her life, her own family hadn’t trusted her, but Berkley, a new friend, did.

Sure, the differences were there, yet it still felt substantial. “It’s going to take a few hours,” Lark warned.

“Okay by me. Erin and Whitley offered to hang around to see about the animals, so I have time if you do.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” Moving a chair to the center of the shower curtain on the floor, she gestured where she wanted Berkley. She clipped up her hair, wrapped a towel around her neck, followed by a long cape to protect her clothes front and back.

For the longest time, they chatted about everything while Lark worked on her hair, first applying the base color. As the color processed, they each had a cup of coffee and a few cookies.

At one point, Erin came to the door with a question, then seemed totally intrigued by the work in progress. Soon after she left, Whitley showed up “just so she could get a look.”

Lark felt downright popular.

Apparently, Berkley did, too, but she smiled and said, “This is so different for me. I was always pleasant to customers, but I didn’t really do friends.”

“Do?” Lark asked.

“I was antisocial.”

“No way.”

“It’s true.” After the briefest hesitation, Berkley shared her heartbreaking background, telling her all about Chad Durkinson and his wife, Sabrina.

And Lawson. Wow. Lark had known there was more than a spark there. Apparently, it was a full-blown wildfire.

“So,” Lark asked, while checking the color, “you and Lawson are now together?” When Berkley didn’t reply, she leaned around to see her face. The happiness, the glow, was answer enough. “I see you enjoyed yourself.”

“It was...” Berkley softly exhaled. “Unlike anything I thought possible.”

“That good, huh?” Lark had missed this, chatting with a girlfriend, sharing secrets. “I’m not surprised. Lawson looks like a guy who’d know how to do things right.”

“What about you?” Berkley asked, as Lark urged her up so she could wash her hair. “Any stupendous sex in your life right now?”

“Maybe if I can win over Oliver.”

With a startled laugh, Berkley stuck her head into the sink, and for the next couple of minutes, they were silent as Lark washed and conditioned her hair. After wrapping a towel around Berkley’s hair, Lark urged her back to her chair.

Immediately, Berkley asked, “So you like Oliver?”

“I took one look and I’ve been thinking of him nonstop ever since.” She sighed. “There’s a superhot man under that buttoned-up facade. I can feel it.”

Finding that hilarious, Berkley laughed some more. “Does he know how you feel?”

“If he’s paying attention, he does. I’ve practically thrown myself at him.” Lark combed out her hair and began to snip. “Can I tell you something, Berkley? Something really private?”

“I’d be honored if you did.”

Seconds ticked by while Lark struggled with the truth. “The reason I came here is because I had a miscarriage.”

Berkley twisted around, gazing up at her with eyes full of sympathy. After a moment, she said, “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” Nudging Berkley back around, Lark continued shaping her hair. “I hadn’t known I wanted a baby. I was in a semi-serious relationship, but we’d never discussed marriage, definitely not kids.” She heaved a sigh, still confused by her own emotions.

After doing hair for so long, she could practically work by instinct alone, so baring her soul didn’t hinder her progress. “At first, when I found out I was pregnant, I was devastated. Scared, worried, unsure what to do. I love my parents, but they’re pretty old-fashioned and I knew they wouldn’t be happy with the news. It was even worse than that, though.”

“Worse how?”

“They made assumptions on how I’d handle things, and when I didn’t immediately agree, they were furious. My mother claimed I’d ruin my life, my dad said I was too young. I understood their sentiments, and I know they were only thinking about me and my happiness.” Emotion lowered her voice. “My mother said I was her baby, that she loved me and wanted more for me. I was twenty-three then, not fifteen. I felt like it had to be my decision, not anyone else’s.”

Berkley was quiet a moment before asking, “And the baby’s father?”

“He was okay at first, understanding and supportive, because he assumed we’d do certain things, and that’d be that. He offered to pay half the bill and thought that was generous.” Her stomach knotted as she remembered that awful confrontation. “I wanted time to think about it.”

“You deserved that,” Berkley assured her.

“He told me I was being selfish, thinking only of myself when it involved him, too. I agreed, but... It didn’t change my indecision.”

“Having a baby is a big deal. Of course you wanted to think about it. That only makes sense.”

Well, Lark thought, at least one person understood her. No one else in her life had. Somehow she’d been painted as the villain, selfish, immature, dramatic—she’d heard a lot of odd insults during that difficult time, all from people she had thought cared about her. “He said if I wanted to make the decision on my own, I could deal with the consequences on my own, too.”

“He ditched you?”

Lark appreciated her outrage, but honesty compelled her to admit, “It was by mutual agreement. At that point, I realized we had some very big differences that I’d never considered.”

“Still...” Berkley persisted.

“My parents were hassling me, too. My friends thought I was being ridiculous and wanted me to carry on as usual.” She’d felt completely cut off from her usual support system. “I just wanted some space, a little peace and quiet to come to terms with my new reality.” Pausing, Lark rested her hand on Berkley’s shoulder and swallowed heavily. “I was home alone when the cramps started.”

Berkley reached up, their hands connecting. A human connection. Something she’d wanted so badly on that trip to the hospital. But she’d been at odds with her parents, so pride had kept her from calling them. By the time she’d let them know, the damage to the relationship had been done.

“I wasn’t very far along when they told me I’d lost the baby, but then I realized how much I’d wanted it.” Tears clouded her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said with a sniffle and a huff. “I didn’t mean to unload on you. We’re supposed to be having fun.”

Berkley was out of her seat in the next second, flowing cape and all, and she drew Lark in for a firm, secure hug. “Don’t apologize. Just... Don’t. I’m glad you’re here and that we’re friends and we can share this stuff, the good and the bad.”

Lark gave a sniffling laugh. “The good being some really hot guys.”

“Yes, them. But also this. You doing my hair. Girl talk. All the stuff I missed out on when I was growing up. My mom was sick for so long, and once she passed away, I didn’t have anyone I was close to. Not even any casual friends. Then I met Betty, and she’s like a grandmother to me, and Lawson is just special in so many ways. Now you.” She held Lark’s shoulders and stepped back to see her face. “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me.”

Lark nodded. “I haven’t really trusted anyone in a long time.”

“Then I’m doubly flattered. I swear, I won’t make you regret it.”

“I know. I mean, I sort of sensed that from the start. You know how some people just click?”

Pleased, Berkley asked, “We’ve clicked?”

“Absolutely.” She gestured at the chair. “Let’s get back to it so I can finish your hair.” Now that she’d told Berkley everything, she surged with new energy. Sharing was a wild, invigorating activity. “I’ll blow-dry and style it before you see it, okay?”

“I can’t wait.” Berkley dutifully sat.

They continued to talk, the conversation now lighter, mostly about the guys. She made a few risqué jokes, and Berkley laughed each time. They talked about the shelter and the mama cat who’d had kittens, the town council meetings and the monthly tea group.

Many plans were made, and by the time Berkley’s hair was finished, Lark knew they’d chosen correctly. Berkley’s natural hair color complemented her skin tone and made the blue of her eyes even brighter. The subtle red streaks added a lot of depth to her hair and made it shimmer. With some trimming and shaping, her hair now fell in perfect waves to frame her face, still long enough for a ponytail when convenience was key, but easily tousled into sexy disarray.

“Well?” Berkley said.

Proud of the finished product, Lark took her hand and said, “Come on. Let’s go look in the bathroom mirror.”

Hero jumped up from where he’d been napping in a ray of sunshine on the floor and trotted after them.

At the bathroom door, Berkley braced herself with a deep breath and then stepped into the room in front of the vanity. Awe widened her eyes, and her lips parted.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Lark asked, “Do you like it?”

Turning her head this way and that, Berkley whispered, “Wow.”

“Gorgeous, right?”

Color rose in Berkley’s cheeks. “I can’t say I look gorgeous because that’ll sound conceited, but I feel gorgeous. My hair is beyond beautiful and I love the change.”

“Way to stress me out!” They both laughed. Lark couldn’t resist fussing with Berkley’s hair, pulling a little forward, tucking a little back. “No matter what you do, those subtle red hues, and a few that are more golden, show. You look amazing, if I do say so myself.”

They were both staring at her reflection when the knock sounded on the door. A mere moment of silence ensued, then shattered as Hero broke into frenzied barking, jolting around to race to the door, which forced Berkley to hustle after him, with Lark hot on her heels.

At the kitchen doorway, Lark could see straight through to the laundry room—and the man standing at the door.

Oliver. What was he doing here?

Somehow, their gazes locked and she couldn’t force herself to look away. “He’s here,” Lark whispered. He seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Giving Oliver the “just a second” sign of one finger, she turned to Berkley.

“I think I’m going to blush.” Looking back and forth between them, Berkley laughed. “Yeah, you two definitely have a thing.”

“But what?” Lark would like to find out.

“Definitely physical.” Berkley kept her voice low so he wouldn’t hear. “But there’s a lot of other stuff going on.”

Lark sighed. “I hope so.” Every time she saw Oliver, she wanted him more.

Touching her arm, Berkley whispered, “With all these sparks going off, maybe you should tell him why you moved here?”

“What?” Lark snapped her gaze to Berkley. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not? You don’t think he’d understand?”

She had no idea, and she wasn’t sure if she was willing to chance it.

Oliver lifted his brows, watching them both whispering together and probably wondering why one of them didn’t let him in.

Lark bit her lip. “You really think I should?”

“I’m hopeless when it comes to figuring out relationships, but I know that talking to Lawson about the stuff that worries me made me feel better, like I had a fresh perspective.”

Oliver, however, was nothing like Lawson. For one thing, they didn’t share a past. For another, he was seriousness personified, while she enjoyed laughing and teasing, which was the main reason everyone had been so surprised over her reaction to being pregnant. “What if I tell him and it scares him off before we’ve even gotten started?”

“Then maybe it’s better to know that now, before you’re more invested.” Berkley turned so that she blocked Oliver’s view of Lark. “I’m the last person on earth who can give advice about life. So this is just a thought, maybe a gut feeling. You won’t be happy casually dating Oliver. You want to know he’s open to a relationship, too, right? Doesn’t mean it will work out, that you two will elope, have kids and retire as old people together. But it should be a possibility, right? If he’s invested in the success of his fitness studio and wants to avoid involvement, better to find that out up front, don’t you think?”

The thought of losing him already made her stomach clench, but Lark nodded. “You’re probably right.” Oliver knocked again, a little harder this time. Peeking around Berkley, Lark took in his exasperation, his dark brows pinched behind his glasses. “We should let him in.”

“Before Hero has a conniption.”

The dog really was confused, running from Berkley to the door and back again as if to say Come on!

Mustering up a smile, Lark led the way. She unlocked the door, pulled it open and was about to greet Oliver when he spoke.

“What’s going on?” His gaze went over Lark’s face, hesitated on her mouth, then stared into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Guilt sent a flustered wave of heat to her cheeks. “I was doing Berkley’s hair.”

Berkley, bless her, struck a pose. “What do you think?”

His attention briefly transferred to Berkley, but came right back to Lark. “Looks nice.”

Beaming at him, Berkley said, “Thanks. I’m glad she added more pink.”

“Yeah.”

Snickering, Berkley said, “She’s a wizard—who removed the pink.”

Dragging his gaze from Lark once more, he glanced at Berkley’s hair. “Ah, yeah. I see. It looked great either way.”

“So much enthusiasm,” Lark teased.

Aggrieved and not bothering to hide it, he dutifully turned to face Berkley again. “Gorgeous hair. Lark did an amazing job.”

“Better,” Berkley said, giving a pat to his shoulder.

Attention shifting right back to Lark again, he doubled his frown. “Why were you two just staring at me and whispering?” While rubbing Hero’s neck, he looked beyond them, through the laundry room to the kitchen. “You two are alone?”

“Yes, definitely alone.” Confusion had Berkley frowning now, too. “Were you expecting to find someone?”

He shook his head. “I just have a bad feeling about this joker who was looking for you. He hasn’t contacted you again?”

“No.” More forthcoming than she’d been before, Berkley said, “Lawson and I talked about it, though, and I’m going to call Chad—when Lawson is with me—just to tell him to get lost.”

“Cut him off at the knees before he comes sniffing around?”

“Something like that.”

Crossing her arms, Lark showed her doubt. “So you came here, on a Sunday, just to check on Berkley?”

“What? No.” Oliver’s gaze never left her face when he said to Berkley, “I was going to see about visiting with Handsome. I know it’s an off day, so I’ll understand if you’d rather I not, but I have the rest of the day free, so—”

“Great idea. Lark, do you want to go with him? I can put away the rest of the mess.”

She’d already cleaned up her supplies while the color processed, so there really wasn’t that much except to ball up the shower curtain, pack it away and put the chairs back in place. “I can do it. You can get the dog for him.”

Nonplussed, Berkley stood there. Clearly, she’d hoped to put them together.

“Sorry.” Lark explained, “It’s a habit of mine to put everything away after I’ve done a client’s hair in her home. I’ll need to store my stuff in my car, too.”

“I’ll help you,” Oliver said. “Then we can walk Handsome together.” Almost like a lure, he added, “The dog likes you, and he can use all the attention he can get.” His dark eyes shifted to Berkley. “No offense. You’re doing a great job.”

“None taken, because I agree.” She looked down at Hero. “Stay, bud. I’ll be right back.” And then to Oliver, she said, “Get yourself a drink in the kitchen, if you’d like. I’ll have Handsome out in five minutes.” Using more haste than necessary, Berkley slipped away, leaving her alone with Oliver. For some reason, Lark couldn’t seem to move.

Hero’s astute gaze bounced from Lark, to Oliver, and then he sat down with a bored yawn.

Oliver grinned. “He’s so well-behaved. I wonder how protective he might be.”

It wasn’t jealousy she felt—no, absolutely not—but something spurred Lark’s irritation. “You seem more than a little interested in Berkley’s safety.”

“You aren’t?” He had no problem moving. With a pat to his thigh, Oliver called Hero to him and they went into the kitchen together.

Leaving her standing there in the laundry room alone.

Closing her eyes for two seconds, Lark struggled to suppress the disturbing emotions clamoring inside her. When she opened them again, it was to see that Oliver had turned back and was now watching her.

In mild query, he asked, “Ready?”

It was almost laughable. Oh, she was ready all right. For many things. The bigger question was, how far and how fast could she get him to go?

After some bookkeeping and inventory, Lawson headed out of his shop, pulling the back door shut behind him and securing the locks. He turned and nearly tripped at the sight of Kathleen. The mannequin had been moved from the front of the shop when he wasn’t looking, and now stood near his truck.

A note had been taped to her hand. Trying to spot any guilty faces, he glanced around, but Sunday in Cemetery was fairly quiet, especially on this small strip. Nearer to the restaurant and the lake, people still enjoyed the day, but here, at the back end of the shops, he didn’t see a single soul.

Annoyed, he strode up to the mannequin, trying not to look at her face and unseeing eyes, and pulled the note away to read it.

It’s no fun if you won’t take part. If you don’t want me here, put me somewhere else—where people will appreciate me.

Snorting, he crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash bin. Not a bad suggestion, though. He should have moved the mannequin a week ago.

Hands on his hips, he tried to decide what to do with her. Another furtive glance, and he came up with a plan. Quickly, because he didn’t want to be late seeing Berkley, he went back into his shop. After creating a sign with a bold black marker and a sheet of white cardboard, he located the shirt he wanted, along with a pair of shorts. Others might dress the mannequin in loose clothes, but what the hell—if he was going to do this, he might as well do it right.

He grabbed extra small shorts since Kathleen had almost no hips at all, but a small shirt—Kathleen had been made with a rack. For good measure, he grabbed a sweatband, too.

Cautiously, he looked outside, but he was still alone. Didn’t matter. He felt like a perv changing Kathleen’s clothes outside, so he moved with haste. The shorts were easy. He just put her in the truck bed and slid them up her long, narrow legs, then tightened the drawstring so they’d stay in place. The shirt, with her unbending arms, proved a little trickier. At one point, he almost took off her head, but finally he got it done.

Sliding the sweatband over her forehead, and grinning, because yeah, this was a little fun, he finished off her look. He hefted Kathleen completely into his truck, secured a tarp over her, closed the gate and drove away from his shop.

Nearer to Oliver’s fitness center, people milled about, but with a little effort, he managed to get Kathleen and the sign set up. She looked very trendy in her sportswear with Oliver’s logo on the front.

Come on in and get fit like me. You know you want to.

Fighting a grin, Lawson took a pic with his phone, then headed home. Kathleen was no longer at his shop, and it hadn’t been that much trouble to change her clothes and move her. He’d just enjoyed taking part in Cemetery’s nonsense—and it was fun.

Now to grab a shower at home, then join Berkley for some one-on-one time.

He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his day.