Chapter Twenty-Five
Weston
Waking up with Viola curled up next to me is wonderful, her gorgeous face smooth and untroubled as she sleeps, and I enjoy how peaceful the quiet of the morning is.
And the high, annoying trill of my phone ringing ruins it.
Doing my best not to disturb her rest, I slip out of bed and stalk over to the dresser, swiping my phone up and blinking at the unknown number flashing on the screen.
Figuring the call might be from Shayne, I press the green icon and lift the phone to my ear, answering in my typical fashion. “This is Weston Covington.”
A familiar, frantic woman wails on the other end, “Oh, Mister Covington! I’m so glad I found your number! This is Maggie, from the shelter.”
Figuring it must be important if she’s calling me, my voice remains calm as I as
