Page 140 of The Pucking Wrong Guy

I hesitated for another moment before I finally ascended the steps that led to the shelter doors. Stopping halfway, I glanced back at Bill, who gave me another charmingly snaggletoothed grin. “I see great things for you, little duck,” he called after me when I continued to walk.

I knew I’d never forget him. He may have been homeless and slightly crazy, but he was also one of the kindest people I had ever met. He’d watched over me, a stranger, and helped me when I needed it the most.

As I walked inside, exhaustion still stretched across my shoulders, I strangely felt at peace right then that everything was going to work out.

“Welcome to Haven,” a kind woman murmured as I approached the front desk.

Haven indeed.

I could only hope.

Continue Monroe and Lincoln’s store here.