Can't Touch This (Can't Touch This #1)

VESPER SLEPT ON WHILE I woke early.

At first, I didn’t know where I was, panicking at the foreign arm thrown over my chest and the leg entwined with mine.

Then…I remembered.

Scar.

Sex.

Her.

My heart rate instantly calmed as I gathered Vesper’s sleeping form closer. She was so warm and sleep tangled, so fucking special to me.

Normally, I didn’t like to cuddle or even be touched, but with Vesper, my normal had been torn up in order for a new chaos. I wished I could stay in bed with her forever, but nature called and there were seventeen (sorry, eighteen now) dogs waiting on me for breakfast.

Swallowing my regret at leaving her, I kissed her lips as I removed her limbs from mine then climbed out of bed.

I was used to getting up early (even if my foreman sometimes had to be the alarm clock), and I had a shit ton of stuff to do before the work team arrived on site.

First things first.

Scar.

Moving toward the large brute of a dog, I crawled into his makeshift tent and gave him a good morning kiss. “Hey, killer, how did you sleep? Enjoy the show?”

He panted with doggy breath as if giving me the thumbs up on my performance. “Don’t judge me on last night’s endurance, buddy. You have no idea how hard it’s been not coming for two days when dating that woman.”

Vesper mumbled something and rolled over, slipping back into sleep.

The bags under her eyes hinted that she didn’t rest often with her work and if I could give her a few extra winks, I would.

I could do my chores before she was coherent and then spend the day together…if she wanted to.

Backing out of Scar’s fort, I stood and patted my thigh. “Come on, boy, time for a squirt and then your palace is moving outside for the day. It’s sunny and warm and it’s about time you felt some relaxation with no fight club on the horizon.”

The dog struggled to get up. His muscles had seized in the night and I made a mental note to ask Vesper to give him more painkillers when she woke. In a valiant, breathless effort, Scar followed me down the stairs and patiently waited until I’d set up another cushion and towel bed on the front porch with the option of sunshine or shade and gave him breakfast.

He curled up utterly content with a heavy sigh and gratefulness in his gaze.

I grinned. “You’re welcome, buddy.”

Leaving him to chill, I couldn’t shake the sadness I felt knowing his time was limited but thankfulness too that we were able to give him a last few days of bliss before passing on.

My fists curled.

If I ever found out who ran that fighting pit, I’d probably kill them myself. Good job the police had already picked them up or I’d be in jail with no bail.

Striding to the barn, I was greeted by a bay of happy barks and wriggling butts. A mismatch of Teranoodles and Cockerpoodles.

As I acknowledged each pooch and accepted my morning allotment of dog kisses, one special resident bumbled into the barn to earn her fair share of attention.

Hippo Pigglesworth nudged my knee, shoving aside an eager Pugtzu to say hello.

Dropping to my knee, I scrunched up the snout of my rescue pigmy potbelly pig with her pink and black spotted hide and soft snuffles. “Hello, Ms. Hippo.”

She huffed, shoving her large nose into my hair as if searching for truffles. “Did you sleep well, too?”

Normally, Hippo slept in the house. She preferred the guest bedroom because it was the only one with a working oil heater and pigs felt the cold. She’d ended up mine because of a neighbour’s distress call saying a dog had lost its fur coat and was rolling in mud.