Page 13 of The Love Shack

A perfect example was the way Hero plopped down and leaned against her, almost making her stumble into Betty.

They were quietly laughing when a flash of black sped past them.

“What in the world?” Betty exclaimed.

“Cheese!” Berkley saw her sometimes-feral pet cat, Cheese, leap onto Betty’s car and stop on the roof with something black, like clothing or a towel, caught in her teeth.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a critter. Cheese still considered herself a mighty hunter, and with the woods all around, she had her pick of things to torment.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Betty. “You’ll now have paw prints all over your car.”

Uncaring about that, Betty asked, “What does she have?”

“No idea, but Cheese is a terrible thief, so it could be anything.”

A second later, Lawson burst from the woods, then drew up short, seeing that he’d come onto the shelter property.

With a deep warning bark, Hero had lurched in front of Berkley, but now that he saw it was Lawson, he started a jubilant jiggling dance on his way to greet him.

It was obvious Lawson had been running, probably trying to catch her klepto cat. Although his forehead looked a little damp and his hair was more disheveled than usual, he wasn’t all that winded.

Once again shirtless, he faced Berkley and Betty with a frown. Even though he was clearly irate, he still dropped a hand to idly stroke Hero’s head and neck.

“My, my,” Betty said low. “Are the men getting better looking or is my eyesight deceiving me?”

“I don’t know about all men,” Berkley muttered, “but this one is put together fine.” Even as she said it, she tried to take the words back. She blinked at Betty. “I mean...”

Betty’s grin creased the fragile skin of her face. “I was young once. Believe me, I understand.”

It was a potent mixture, Berkley decided. Lawson inspiring newfound admiration, and Betty being so easy to talk to. Combined, she didn’t stand a chance, so she tried to clamp her lips together and stay silent.

Straightening one long arm to point at Cheese, Lawson growled, “That cat stole my boxers.”

Huh. So it was underwear that Cheese had?

“Do tell,” Betty said. “So you’re...what do the young people call it?” she asked Berkley. “Commando?”

Hearing that from Betty almost made her laugh, but then she wondered,Is he?It took a lot of effort to keep her gaze on his face and off his shorts.

“The cat didn’t steal themoffme.” Lawson rolled his eyes. “I was collecting my laundry from the line, and the little thief grabbed them and ran off.”

Berkley confided to Betty, “He hangs his laundry out to dry.”

“No dryer, dear?”

Aggrieved, Lawson said, “Not yet, but I’ll get one soon.”

“He’s remodeling his house,” Berkley explained. “It looks incredible, but I’m guessing with working full-time at the T-shirt shop, he’s had to prioritize.”

“Exactly.” After glaring at the cat, Lawson inhaled and released a deep breath, becoming marginally more relaxed. “I only take my stuff to the laundromat once a week. In between, I hand-wash.”

Berkley folded her arms. “Proprietor, salesman, builder and launderer. A man of many talents.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, but it didn’t feel hostile as much as...intense.

“Ran out of undies, did you?” Betty asked.

His mouth twitched. “Men do not wearundies, Betty. They wear boxers or briefs.”

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