Page 104 of The Love Shack

“I have a better idea.” He nodded at a new shirt for The Love Shack. “Let’s showcase that. It’s cute, the women will love it, and Berkley deserves it.”

Especially if this was Durkinson stirring up trouble. Neither of them said the words, but they were both thinking it, so Lawson agreed.

The shirt was pastel hues blended together, withThe Love Shackin bold font across the front. In a smaller, more stylistic font, were the wordsWhere love waits for you. Paw prints in different sizes framed the message.

The shirt had turned out really well. Locals would love it, especially since the design was created by a Cemetery artisan.

With Kathleen’s hair still wet, he and Oliver did their best to give her pigtails, but...yeah. Neither of them was great at braiding hair.

Stepping back and eyeing the mannequin critically, Oliver asked, “What do you think?”

“That Lark would have a heart attack.”

They both laughed.

“She’s crooked.” When Oliver tugged at one braid, the mannequin’s entire wig slid.

“Yeah—not better.”

He straightened her up again. “It’ll have to do.” Checking the time, Oliver said, “Lark could have fixed her hair in five minutes, but I hate to interrupt her now. She’s probably just getting ready for work.”

“Again, one day we’ll laugh.” Bright sunlight poured through the big front window. Lawson needed to get Kathleen out there. “I’m going to check in with Berkley, just to make sure everything is going okay.”

“Good idea.” Getting out his own phone, Oliver walked to a corner of the shop, presumably for privacy.

Lawson propped a hip against the front counter and hit Call. Four rings sounded in his ear, and he was about to straighten in alarm when she finally answered.

Breathless, she asked, “Everything okay?”

“Yes. Got the paint cleaned off Kathleen, she’s re-dressed and ready to go. I just wanted to check in with you first.”

“So she’s not destroyed?”

“No,” he said gently, realizing that she had expected the worst. “I promise she’s fine. Don’t laugh, but Oliver and I had to give her a bath, re-dress her and even fix her hair.”

Of course, she laughed, just as he had intended. “Sounds like she’s having more fun than me.”

The ribald joke surprised a snort out of him. “I’m not sure I like you saying that.”

“Well, in my mind, Oliver was out of the picture.”

“Better.” Low, to ensure Oliver wouldn’t hear, he said, “Tonight, I promise to reenact it all on you.”

She drew in a dramatic breath. “Now, see, that makes my day better already.”

The teasing couldn’t hide her tiredness. “You sound beat.”

“I’m fine, just scrambling. Whitley called in sick. Poor girl has some kind of flu. Erin is coming in early, but not for another hour.”

Damn. He looked around his shop, seeing everything he hadn’t yet done, and still said, “How about I—”

“Nope.” She sent him a smooch through the phone. “Love that you want to help, but you have your own place to run. I’m used to stuff like this happening. I have everything under control.”

The amount of work she covered every day boggled his mind. “It’s going to be a scorcher. Don’t overdo. And remember, call me if anything happens.”

“I will.” In the background, he heard some happy barking as the dogs played, and assumed she’d stepped outside. “Lawson?”

“Hmm?”

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