Page 1 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Single Dad

CHAPTER ONE

Imogen

“It’s okay, bug. Try a small amount. There you go.” I coaxed the orange tabby over to me with a mix of wet cat food and dry kibble. At first, he wanted nothing to do with me. But the smell of the food was too much to ignore.

Bongo sniffed my finger, then sniffed the dish, before finally starting to lick some up. “Good job, buddy.” I said to him before moving on to the other three cats I had to feed.

My little cabin in Apple Falls was filled to the brim with dogs and cats, a couple of hamsters, and a guinea pig. I couldn’t help it. I loved the furry things in life.

Besides teaching at the local high school, I volunteered at the various animal shelters in the area, and a couple of years ago, started fostering animals.

Most of the time I was what they called a “foster fail” because I ended up adopting them but after I kept two dogs and two cats, I told myself I couldn’t keep anymore. So far, I stuck to my promise, yet Bongo was growing on me. Fast.

After the cats were fed, I moved onto the dogs, and lastly, the hamsters and guinea pig, cleaning out their cage bedding and supplying them with fresh water and food.

As I worked, music drifted through the speakers and I hummed along.

Ring! Ring!

My phone in my back pocket buzzed and when I pulled it out and looked at the screen, a local unknown number scrolled across.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hi is this the Apple Falls Bird Rescue Society?”

Holy shit, his voice…so deep, so…growly.

It took a second for my brain to process, too focused on his voice and who he was.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He cleared his throat. “Is this Apple Falls Bird Rescue Society?” His voice sounded even more growly, with a hint of irritation. Still sexy as fuck.

“No, I’m sorry. You must have the wrong number.”

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath. “Google gave me this number.”

“Maybe you misdialed by a number or two.” I pulled my phone from my ear and quickly swiped up. Exiting out of the phone app, I navigated to Google and quickly searched the bird rescue. The number appeared on the screen, and I recognized it as my own, despite one number. “Yeah, my number is close to theirs. You dialed a nine at the end when you should’ve dialed a seven.”

“Damn fat fingers.” He snarled over the phone and my insides twisted. Why was this growly voice such a turn on?

Confusing, brain. “Ha, it happens. I hope everything is okay with your bird.”

“My bird? I don’t own a bird.” He snapped.

“Sorry, I just assumed since you asked for the bird⁠—”

“My daughter won’t stop pestering me about having the injured bird we found checked out by a doctor.” His voice was rough and edgy, almost as if he hated the world. Why though?

And he had a daughter, more information for my greedy, lustful heart to know.

“Aw, what happened?”

“It’s really none of your business. I don’t even know you.”

I swallowed hard. What a grumpy jerk.

“Just curious as I love animals, but okay. Good luck with everything. Bye.” I pressed the end button before he had a chance to respond.