Page 50 of The Love Shack

Curious, she asked, “So you and Betty have worked out your differences?”

His brows drew together behind his lenses. “I hope so. She’s formidable, and she has high expectations, but I think it stems from a protectiveness for the town.”

Berkley beamed at him. “Exactly. She’s a descendant of the founder, you know.”

“She told me all about it. Fascinating history.” As they strolled around, he took special interest in their new dog.

“He hasn’t been here long,” Berkley explained. “He’s still terrified, as you can see.” As she said it, the dog spotted Oliver, and amazingly, he perked up.

Both Berkley and Whitley were surprised when Oliver went down on one knee and offered his hand for the dog to sniff.

An even bigger surprise was how the dog crept toward him, tail tucked, ears back...but he was moving forward, not backing up.

“My God,” Berkley whispered. “He’s shied away from everyone.”

“No wonder,” Oliver said in a low croon. “You haven’t been treated well, have you, bud?”

Berkley explained the situation the dog had been in. Sometimes it wasn’t easy for her to keep the anger and frustration from her tone when discussing a mistreated animal’s history, but it was necessary when dealing with the public.

At night, though, she often cried for the animals who’d been through too much.

“What’s his name?” Oliver asked. He lowered himself to sit cross-legged in the grass as an invitation for the dog to inch closer.

“He doesn’t have one yet,” Berkley said.

“I’ll sponsor him,” Oliver stated, his tone light and friendly. “He obviously needs some care, and I’d be happy to pay for it.” He looked up at Berkley. “I couldn’t do what you do, but I can do that. I can give money. Will it help?”

Okay, then. Oliver Roth just became one of her favorite people. Deciding they were friends, whether he knew it yet or not, she lowered herself to sit beside him. “I think that’s a wonderful and generous idea. The shelter runs largely on donations. Thankfully, the vet—Have you met Henry Upton?”

“He just joined my facility. Friendly guy.”

She wasn’t surprised. Henry liked to stay fit, saying it helped his golf swing. “He treats most of the animals for free, but in this dog’s case, with the dental work he needs, there will be some costs. Nothing astronomical, but—”

“Let me know how much and I’ll take care of it.”

Berkley blinked at him. “Don’t you want an estimate first?”

“I’m single. I’m comfortable.” He lightly stroked the dog. “I’m grateful to people like you who do the tough work. Paying for his care will make me feel better, so I hope you’ll accept.”

“I do, thank you.” She chewed her lip a moment, but watching Oliver and the dog bond fascinated her, and she wanted to do something for Oliver in return. “Why don’t you name him?”

“Handsome,” he said immediately, while continually petting the dog’s neck, ears and back with a large, very gentle hand. “I’ll name him Handsome.”

“A fine name,” she managed to choke out, because seriously, this particular dog was a touch on the hideous side. He had some bald spots because his fur had been trimmed out in chunks to remove mats. On top of some bad teeth that needed to be removed, he had a severe overbite. One of his eyes was forever squinted, and the other eye always held a look of panic. But she had to agree he was a sweetheart. “Handsome it is.”

“What does he need? Special treats? Toys? Dog bed?”

Oh, if Lawson hadn’t already caught her attention, she might have been drawn to this man. He was a picture of contrasts with his unmistakably fit body beneath the conservative clothes of a polo shirt and khaki pants. His hair and glasses made her think of a stereotypical clerk, but with warm compassion for a helpless dog.

Yup, he was the whole package... If a gal was looking. She was not.

“We can discuss everything.” She glanced at the time on her phone. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the shelter and the space where Handsome sleeps.”

The dog cautiously walked with them, giving everyone worried looks, while Berkley showed Oliver the limited space of the dog’s home. Concrete floor, utilitarian dog dishes, isolation... True, it was so much better than many shelters, but it still wasn’t what a dog deserved. It wasn’t a permanent home. A position in a family.

Oliver obviously knew it, too. He ran a hand over the back of his neck while looking things over. “Do you have limitations on what I can bring to him?”

“No, but we don’t yet know how destructive Handsome might be. For instance, if you get him a fancy dog bed and he rips it up—”

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