Page 1 of The Love Shack

1

Carrying a colorfulbouquet of flowers and a pastry box, Berkley Carr strolled down the sidewalk with her dog, Hero, taking in the sights, sounds and colors of the eclectic little town where she’d recently relocated. A bright afternoon sun heated her shoulders as she breathed in the unique freshness that she’d never experienced anywhere else.

She’d made the right decision when she’d accepted the new job and, basically, a new life. The notoriety that so often haunted her couldn’t possibly bother her here, not in this quaint rural setting bustling with activity and filled with kindness.

As she waved to the owner of the sweet shop, and then, on the opposite side of the street, a seasonal ice cream parlor, she decided that the full-time residents were...almost too good to be true.

Not perfect, no. How boring would that be? They varied in age and ambition, with vocations that spanned the imagination. Most of the businesses were clustered here on the main street, but others were spread out through the town.

None, however, were near her new home and The Love Shack, the amazing animal shelter she now ran. Privacy, that was what she had. Peaceful, wonderful privacy.

As if he’d read her thoughts, Hero gazed up at her, his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth, and his muscular body moving in time with her long strides. The brindle pit bull–boxer mix loved these walks as much as she did.

Berkley smiled down at him. “It’s nice being a stranger, isn’t it?”

Hero licked his chops and then sniffed the air, either smelling a squirrel in one of the mature trees that provided blessed shade everywhere, or perhaps picking up the scent of barbecue that permeated the air from a not-too-distant restaurant.

A vacationer walked by with two kids in tow, no doubt headed for the large recreational lake. As the girl, who looked to be around six, reached out for Hero, the woman asked with caution, “Is he friendly?”

Berkley stopped. “The friendliest.” With his tail wagging, Hero snuffled against the kid and made her laugh. The girl’s shier brother came forward and gave Hero a hug, then the mom knelt and gave him a few pets, too. As always, the dog loved the attention.

After the woman wished her a good day and corralled her kids along, Berkley resumed her walk.

The vacationers were the easiest for her to deal with because they had only a passing interest in her.

The residents, though, they had reason to want to know more about her. Most of them were caring, involved, determined—with a few quirks thrown in. Several were nosy, others liked to gossip, and of course there were often assumptions.

So far, their assumptions about her hadn’t come anywhere near the truth. No one here knew her history, her infamy.

If she could help it, no one ever would.

She no sooner had that thought than she saw Hero go on the alert. Berkley followed the direction of the dog’s stare and encountered a very fine male behind.

Maybe if the guy hadn’t been leaning into what looked like a well in front of a shop, things would have gone differently. But there he was, legs braced with a muscular tush on display in board shorts, his head and part of his shoulders hidden inside the well. She and Hero weren’t the only ones to notice, either. Berkley saw several women taking in the view.

It was her distraction with the other women, as well as the packages she carried, that made her lose hold of the leash when Hero launched forward, already on a mission. She shouted, “Hero, no!” But of course, it was too late.

Hearing her, the man straightened too quickly and smacked his head on the roof frame of the well. Before he could complain, Hero had him by the seat of his shorts, determinedly tugging him a foot away to “safety,” which made the guy lose his footing on the gravel lot. He fell forward with a barely subdued curse.

Filled with dread, Berkley sprinted forward, dropped her flowers and pastry box, and grabbed for Hero’s leash. “He’s fine, bud. I swear. Hero,drop him.”

Obediently, the dog released his grip on the shorts, then wagged his tail, very proud of himself. And damn, she was pretty proud of him, too. He’d gotten much better at following commands. “Good boy.”

Grumbling, the guy pushed to his feet, dusted off his knees and stared down at her.

Holy crap.I know him.

Lawson Salder, in the flesh. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a decade, and honestly, that wasn’t long enough to suit her. She would have been happy to never again set eyes on anyone from her old neighborhood, her old life—anyone who knew of the god-awful scandal that had overtaken her existence.

Why had no one told her he lived in Cemetery, Indiana?

It wasn’t like anyone in the area wouldn’t know Lawson. The man was testosterone on a stick. A walking ad for sex appeal. Windblown blond hair, light brown eyes, drool-worthy shoulders and a “don’t care” attitude that had drawn admiration from all the girls on their street, as well as many of the guys.

Back then, most had struggled in the run-down town, but Lawson had gone about his business as if he owned it all.

Eight years had not only made him older, but also better-looking, with more of an edge—and damn him, he’d always been edgy enough.

How unfair was that?

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