Sloan’s wheels, she realized. The scary-looking bike suited a man who went running in the middle of the night in the dead of winter. “Was that Sloan? I didn’t know he had a motorcycle.” She hadn’t thought it possible, but Dillon sounded even more reverent about their neighbor. “I didn’t know, either.” She turned her attention to the leash. The overexcited dog wasn’t having any part of it; he wriggled out of her grip and bounded over to Dillon again, jumping against him with such enthusiasm that he lost his balance and landed on his butt in the snow. Her brother’s laughter filled the air as he rolled around on the ground with the dog. It had been an impetuous decision to bring the dog home from Shop-World, where a rescue organization had set up camp for the day. She simply hadn’t been able to resist. Dillon had been so taken with the two-year-old mutt, whose wiry coat had too many colors to count or define.
What do You think about A Weaver Beginning (2013)?
