Page 63 of The Love Shack

“See,” Lark whispered. “We’re going to be very good friends, I can tell.”

As soon as he reached them, Oliver said, “There you are,” and his concerned gaze went from one to the other. “Everything okay?”

“Babies,” Berkley said, pointing down at the box. “You can pet, but don’t pick them up yet.”

“Kittens,” Lark specified, hoping she didn’t get weepy again. “Want to see?” She could show them to Oliver, talk a few minutes, then head home, where a warm shower, a brownie and a book would help her to regroup.

He said to Berkley, “Betty is waiting to talk to you.”

“Thanks. Make sure the door is closed securely when you leave this room.”

“We will,” Lark said, and moments later, she and Oliver were alone.

10

Oliver glanced atthe mother cat, smiled at seeing how she slicked the fur on top of one tiny kitten’s head and then he turned back to Lark. He could see she’d been crying. Ridiculous as it seemed, her tears took him back to his father’s funeral with his mother quietly weeping, his brother withdrawn, his sister-in-law red-eyed and stone-faced.

He’d failed them. He’d failed his brother most of all. Uncomfortable with the memory, he asked Lark, “What’s wrong?”

Confusion tweaked her brows, but she smiled anyway. “Nothing now. A sad memory had hit me, that’s all. It happens now and then.”

Good God. Her explanation was exactly what had happened to him. Shaking his head, he said, “I’m sorry. I...” He rubbed a hand over his mouth and deliberately lightened his tone. “You’re okay now?”

“Yes.”

He should ask her if she needed to talk, but he couldn’t quite make himself say it. “I’m going to walk Handsome. If you’re not busy, do you want to join me?”

Tipping her head, she asked, “Handsome?”

“A sweet dog that was brought here. He needs extra love and a gentle hand. I can’t adopt a dog right now, but I figured I could do other things for him, so I—”

The way Lark suddenly embraced him took him off guard. Slim arms fit around his waist and she squeezed him tight, her cheek against his chest, her soft hair teasing his chin, her scent enveloping him.

Hands on her shoulders, Oliver tried—and failed—to decide what to do.

“That’s wonderful.You’rewonderful.” Smiling up at him, she said, “I’d be thrilled to join you on your walk. Thank you for inviting me.”

He wasn’t sure, but Oliver thought he might have just set himself on a course of no return. Sure felt like it. He cupped a hand to Lark’s cheek, relishing the softness of her skin and how right her small body felt against his. His gaze was drawn to her mouth, and he saw her lips part.

He leaned down, she stretched up, and—Berkley and Betty came into the room, each of them carrying a cat.

Pretending she hadn’t noticed them quickly stepping away, Berkley said, “The cats had fun. Thank you for this.”

“And two people asked about adoption.”

Whispering, Lark asked, “Should we offer to help put the cats away?”

“We should,” he whispered back, and then on impulse, he touched his mouth to hers in a quick, light kiss.

Betty remarked, “Darn it, I wasn’t ready or I’d have gotten a photo of that.”

Thank God she hadn’t, Oliver thought as he stepped out of the separate kitten room to join them.

Right behind him, Lark laughed. “Whatever release I signed didn’t include anything other than the class.”

Her humor was preferable to seeing her upset any day.

As he secured the door behind them, Lark, Berkley and Betty went after more cats. He took a moment to look in at the mother cat again. She appeared very peaceful with the little fur balls tucked up to her side. He watched her yawn, rest her head on the bedding and close her big green eyes.

---