Page 5 of The Love Shack

She’d changed up her look a lot. Gone was the plain, quiet girl in clothes that didn’t fit, dull hair and a gaze that was never direct. The corner of his mouth hitched as he considered the way she’d given him hell.

For cursing in front of her dog.

A dog that had managed to catch the seat of his shorts without biting him, or even causing a pinch. Clever mutt.

Clever woman, too. With her bleached hair and hot-pink tips, eye makeup that accentuated the blue of her irises, and multiple earrings in only one ear, Berkley Carr was a standout. The point, though, seemed to be that few who knew her as an awkward teen accused of stealing a local celebrity’s husband would recognize her now. The transformation made him curious. Her new confidence deserved applause, but he doubted she wanted any.

His thoughts circled around to fate. What were the odds of two young people escaping one of the worst neighborhoods in Kentucky, only to land in the same small town in Indiana? Slim, he assumed, yet here they were.

Wondering about the shelter she ran and where exactly she lived, he turned—and drew up short at the sight of a mannequin, sightlessly staring right at him, positioned near the well. His entire body tensed.

Kathleen, they called her, as if she was a beloved member of Cemetery. He’d seen her all over town, posed in different scenarios like a celebrity mascot. It was some truly twisted shit.

Almost everything about the town appealed to him—except Kathleen.

Damn, but mannequins gave him the creeps.

A few women standing nearby laughed, no doubt over his dumbstruck expression. Dredging up a smile, he turned to them. “One of you guilty of putting that thing in my way?”

“Don’t call her athing,” the tallest woman said with a giggle. “You’ll hurt Kathleen’s feelings.”

Flirting? He couldn’t tell for sure, and didn’t want to find out. “Fiberglass doesn’t have feelings.”

Another woman pressed forward between the others, dark hair softly framing her face, her slate-gray eyes understanding. “She takes a little getting used to, right?” Holding out a delicate hand, she said, “I’m Lark Penny, a new stylist at the salon.”

“Lawson Salder.” Her sudden appearance and introduction saved him from more conversation with the others. And since this woman seemed reasonable, he appealed to her before releasing her hand. “Hopefully you’re here for an order.” His low voice wouldn’t carry. “I’d rather escape this situation if possible.”

In an equally soft whisper, she asked, “Would that situation be your fan club, or Kathleen?”

“Both, honestly.”

With a big grin, she said louder, “Mr. Salder, I believe you have freshly printed smocks for us.” She gestured to the shop. “I hate to interrupt, but I’m in a bit of a rush. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.” Impressed with how quickly she’d adapted, he walked around Kathleen, avoiding the dummy’s dead stare, and picked up his tools on the way in. When he opened his door, a bell chimed.

William, his part-time help, glanced up from his seat behind the counter. “Got the well done already?”

“Not yet. I’ll finish it up tomorrow.” Then they’d only need to add the sign, which a local artist was creating as part of her contribution to support the shelter. He did love how the town pulled together to assist one another. To Lark, he said, “Give me just a second to find your order.”

As he went to the back room, he heard Lark introduce herself. William was a great kid, mature for a nineteen-year-old, but given how Lark looked—like an ad for feminine sweetness—he wasn’t surprised that William croaked a little in his reply. Pretty women with big smiles and engaging attitudes could be kryptonite to many young men.

After he found the package, he stepped back out and noticed that William’s color was high, his expression a little glazed while Lark continued to talk to him.

Tempering his grin, Lawson said, “Here you go.” At the counter, he set down the package and pulled out one of the smocks so she could inspect it. “What do you think?”

“Ohhh, love them. They’ll be a big hit, I’m sure.” She ran her fingertips over the stylized logo on the front center pocket. “The gold on black looks amazing. Was that your idea?”

Over the years, he’d found he had a good eye for color, first in painting houses, then in customized printing. “I guided the decision a little, but I also have plenty of samples around to show customers how things will look.”

While refolding the smock, she sent him another smile. “I’m fairly new here, but so far I’m really impressed with how pretty everything is. The whole town seems to take a lot of pride in presentation.”

William said, “Probably not Dad’s hardware store.” He grinned. “Hard to pretty up tools.”

“Your dad is Daniel?”

Obviously, William wasn’t expecting her to know that. “Yeah. I’m his youngest son.”

“I had to go by there to get a few things for my apartment, plus I’m trying to familiarize myself with the people who live here. I plan to stay, you know. I think so far I’ve visited half the shops in the town proper. Your dad was super nice, and the store was so organized. Tools might not be pretty, but he had some great displays.”

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