Page 26

Can't Touch This Page 26

by Pepper Winters


I leaned forward, hooked on her story, desperate to know what happened. I still wasn’t convinced this didn’t have a bad ending but I was willing to let her lead me down the rabbit hole. “What? What got weird?”

She tickled Visa as the cat pawed her loose chestnut hair. “I had gnocchi and he had fettuccine. At first, he ate the garlic bread with his hands. Seems normal. How else do you eat bread? But then…” She gulped for dramatics. “Then he picked up his creamy, slurpy noodles with his fingers and proceeded to dangle them over his mouth in the middle of the restaurant.” Her eyes widened in horror. “The sauce, Ves. It ended up everywhere. His tongue was out trying to catch the end of the slippery sucker. His face was splashed with cream making him look like he’d jizzed all over himself.” She groaned. “I couldn’t eat. My appetite went poof and I wanted to vanish in mortification as he dropped some pasta onto the floor and picked up and—”

“No!” I gasped. “He didn’t.”

“He did! He picked it up and ate it. There was lint on it. Lint!”

We shuddered together.

I laughed at her expense but secretly was so glad Ryder had the upbringing of a sane person and not a runaway mental patient.

I’m so lucky I can take him in public.

“So…what did you do?” I held up my fingers, wiggling them for Barb to butt against for cuddles.

“Well, you know me; I’m too polite to say anything. So I sat there as he slurped up the entire bowl, wiped his mouth with his tie, and proceeded to ask to split the cheque but only had a ten dollar bill on him and no credit cards and made me pick up the rest.”

“Wow, what a disaster.”

“He tried to kiss me as he walked me back to my car. However, my politeness snapped and I hopped in, locked the door, and peeled outta there as if I was a rally driver in the Brisbane derby.”

“Good for you. I hope you left a scathing one star review on his dating profile.”

“Wait, you can do that? You can review how a date went?”

I giggled. “No idea. I doubt it. Guess that would be the epitome of bullying. But wow, that sounds worse than the nightmare of being naked with no teeth.”

“Tell me about it.” She squeezed Visa until she meowed angrily. “I think I just have to concede that I might as well hang up a battered sign that says ‘haunted, keep out’ on my V-jay-jay and give up.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. Plenty more dogs in the park that know how to use utensils.”

“Yes, but how many mutts do I have to go through to find a pedigree?”

I nudged her. “Oh, good analogy.”

She grinned. “Thanks. I try.”

“You can’t let this stop you from trying. True love is worth it.”

She buried her face into Visa’s fur. “Ugh, I hate you all preachy. Stop being all loved up for a second and admit that you struck gold while I’m still panning for rocks.”

“Can’t. I’m too high on orgasms.”

She pinched me. “One of these days, I’m going to be just as smug as you and shove your nose in it.”

“There’s the spirit. Don’t give up.” I laughed. “Besides, I’ll never be jealous as I’m never letting Ryder stray from my honey trap so we’ll both be smug together.”

“Does he know he’s a prisoner for life?”

“He has an inkling.”

She sighed, letting Visa leap from her lap and draping her arms over the back of the couch. “Man, it feels good to tell you, though. I’ve been holding that in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I did my best to hide the hurt in my tone. “We tell each other everything. Crap, you should’ve texted me while on the date and sent a picture of the buffoon with pasta face.”

“That would’ve been rude.”

“True. And that would be bad because we are respectable, tolerant women who don’t judge.”

We burst into laughter.

Leaning over, I kissed her cheek. “Well, he doesn’t know what he missed out on. Lucky for me, you’re still all mine.”

Polly cracked a smile. “Is it wrong that while at dinner, I fantasised that he choked on his pasta and some sexy waiter came up, gave him the Heimlich, and then took one look at me and ordered me into the supply closet to make up for the gorilla I was on a date with?”

“Nope. It means you have a healthy libido and one day soon, some guy is going to be very, very lucky.”

She hugged me. “I love you, Vessie. Somehow, you’ve already made me feel better. I know I’m in for a world of pain finding ‘the one’ but I’m glad I can share my disastrous attempts with you.”

“You’ll always have me.”

“Even when you’re preggers and shacked up?”

“I thought we agreed that multiplying with our own children wasn’t going to happen. Creatures that need adopting will be my babies of choice.”

“In that case, I’ll offer my services as animal nanny.”

I shook my head. “You’ll be too busy looking after your own brood and beyond-sexy-awesome husband.”

Polly sighed. “Finding a man I trust and could fall in love with seems less likely than me flying to Jupiter and finding a handsome alien to probe.”

I laughed. “I think you’ll find the alien’s do the probing, not the humans.”

She grinned coyly. “Not if he wants a go with me. I have a sudden fascination of sampling my dominatrix side.”

I couldn’t help it. I blurted in one running sentence, “I did that the other night while Ryder wore a dog collar and I ordered him around the bedroom and oh my God it was the hottest thing and wow I want to do it again.”

She froze. “I had no idea you were so kinky.”

“Neither did I. Until him.”

“Seems he’s made you open doors you’d kept locked, huh?”

I shrugged. “Seems that way.”

“And unlocked your heart.”

I turned into a gooey mess. “And definitely unlocked my heart.”

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this conversation.” Untangling herself and pushing away a demanding cat and dog, Polly said, “Time for vodka, bad food, and silly movies.”

“I’m down.”

Ten minutes later, we had our adult juices and hands full of popcorn. Settling on the floor, we draped our legs with the blanket Polly had brought and turned on a Disney cartoon courtesy of Netflix and vegged.

* * *

Ryder: I miss you so goddamn much. My brother is fun, but he’s not you.

Me: I miss you, too. It’s been an enlightening evening and I’m even more grateful for what we have.

Ryder: I like hearing that. Just how grateful are we talking, exactly?

Me: Blow job every day for a week and then any position you want grateful.

Ryder: Wow, that much? I might have to oblige with your needs.

Me: I have so many needs.

Ryder: And I’ll do everything in my power to satisfy each and every itch.

Me: If you do, I’ll feel guilty. I already feel guilty.

Ryder: What on earth for? If anyone deserves some sexy pampering, it’s you.

Me: Polly struck an ignoramus on her last foray into the dating cesspool. She has no one while I have...

Ryder: Me? You have me. You can say it. And everyone encounters a dickhead or bitch while searching for the perfect ending. Hell, I had one that made the devil seem like a nice guy.

Okay, didn’t really want to discuss exes while talking about our naughty bits getting it on, but whatever. I could ignore it and continue with the happier thread.

Me: I was going to say I have the most wonderful incredible down-right sexy man ever created but yeah, I guess just a simple answer would suffice.

Ryder: My brother is passed out from beer. Come here. I need to start redeeming these grateful gifts you want to give me. My cock heard the word blow job and is insanely interested.

Me: Would love to but can’t. Polly needs me. She hates anyone with a deep voice and
a third leg right now.

Ryder: Well, bring her here, too. My brother gets bored easily. He’ll need entertaining. Both of you spend the day with us tomorrow.

Me: I’m not so sure that would be a good idea.

“God, what time is it?” Polly turned over, covering her eyes from the glare of my phone. We’d fallen asleep thanks to too many vodkas and binge watching on the floor.

“Almost three a.m., go back to sleep.” My fingers hovered over the keypad, ready to tell my man that he needed to respect girl time.

However, she murmured, “Are you messaging Ryder?”

“Yes.”

“Is he calling for booty?”

I smiled; glad she could still make a joke while dealing with dating disappointment. “No. He’s badgering me to bring you around to his place tomorrow.”

Sleep left her gaze. “Really?”

I nodded. “His older brother is in town. He’s offered us to go over together.”

Apprehension filled her gaze. “Oh no, another male. You haven’t met his brother, right? Can you confirm he’s not an imbecile with nose-picking fetishes or strange eating customs?”

Oh, Pol.

“I can’t. But if he’s anything like Ryder, he’s going to be a gruff, sarcastic teddy-bear with a heart of gold.”

Polly bit her lower lip. “And he’s invited me. You sure you didn’t invite me?”

“Nope.” I showed her the screen, making her squint again. “All him.”

Her eyes scanned my messages. “I agree with him that you shouldn’t feel guilty for being happy.” She leaned up, placing a kiss on my cheek. “You’re the best. And this is exactly what I needed, Ves. You’re awesome. If you promise to be there just in case he turns out to be a donkey, I’d love to go and see Ryder’s house and find out where the hell he puts all those dogs he brings in.” She laughed. “He doesn’t boil them into a soup, does he? ‘Cause that would be the worst thing ever.”

I giggled. “No, he has this amazing barn conversion. And the river, Pol. Wow.” My heart swooned even as my body melted at the memory of what we did at said river.

She rolled onto her back. “I know this is a stupid, crazy idea but how about we close the practice tomorrow? Pet Curers up the road can take any slack; we’ll put his number on the answer machine for any emergencies. And still take any calls that are urgent, urgent.” Her hand found mine in the dark. “I just really need this with you. I need to be with other people who are normal, away from work and home. I need a good laugh. Would that be okay?”

“It would be more than okay.”

I didn’t care about the loss of potential income. I did worry that pet owners would be stressed but as long as the other vet across town was open and they knew it was only for one day, then I couldn’t see the harm. There was a thing called workaholicism and unfortunately, Pol and I had reached that threshold.

“Text him back.” She tapped my phone. “Tell him he has a date.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Me: Polly will accept your date. She says it’s a good idea, after all. When should we come over? I’m taking your other unsolicited advice from when we first started chatting and playing hooky all day.

Ryder: I love that my bad influence is rubbing off on you.

Me: I’ll be rubbing off something else tomorrow.

Ryder: I’ll hold you to that.

Me: So…time? What should we bring?

Ryder: Just your beautiful self and your business partner. Rupe and I will take care of the rest.

Me: You’ve got yourself a party.

Ryder: Is it in my pants?

Me: The one with exclusive invitation just for the two of us is.

Ryder: I’m glad Rupert isn’t invited. I have a confession to make.

Me: Oh?

Ryder: I was nervous about you meeting Rupert as I didn’t want you to think he was the better model and trade me in. With Polly there, you’ll be forced to stay with me because that would just be awkward stepping on your friend’s playing field.

Me: Somehow, I don’t think Polly will be looking for a hook-up. She’s scarred for life from the last one.

Ryder: Rupe won’t either but he’s a sucker for a damsel in distress.

Me: Polly isn’t a damsel. She’s a freaking ninja.

Ryder: She’s a girl who will be left alone at some point in our festivities while I go and do bad things to you. Ergo, damsel. Believe me; he’ll take good care of her.

Me: That gives me mixed feelings.

Ryder: About the bad things or Rupe’s exemplary care?

Me: Both.

Ryder: Guess we better discuss the rules in the morning.

Me: I guess.

Ryder: Ves?

Me: Yes?

Ryder: I’m really, really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I’ve missed you.

Me: I swear you say things like that to keep me in a permanent state of puddle-like infatuation.

Ryder: I like you in a puddle. It means I made you wet.

Me: No disputing that.

Ryder: Fuck, is it tomorrow yet?

Me: If you let me go to sleep it will be.

Ryder: Fine, best vet in the world. Go to bed—without me. I’ll make sure you make it up to me when we see each other.

Me: Deal. Goodnight.

Ryder: Sleep tight.

Locking my phone, I caught Polly watching me.

Her lips stretched into a sleepy smile. “That man is seriously addicted to you.”

“Or just having a good time.” For some reason, admitting just how much Ryder meant to me suddenly seemed beyond smug and just cruel.

However, Polly didn’t let me get away with it. “Vesper Carla Fairfax, if you belittle how he feels about you or how you feel about him one more time, I’m going to bop you one.”

“Bop me?”

“Bop you.” She fake punched me in the side of the head. “Bop.”

“Okay, okay, no more trying to protect your feelings, sheesh.” I gave her a grin.

“Good.” She nodded importantly, snuggling back into our nest on the floor. “Because if you don’t start owning just how rare and magical your connection is, then you’re both morons and I don’t do stupid people.”

Rolling over, our backs touched; our feet brushing in goodnight like we did at university after an all-nighter study session.

“Got it, no more stupidness.”

“That’s my girl.” Polly yawned. “Now go to sleep, so we’re not haggard hoe-bags for our double date tomorrow.”

I smiled in the dark. “You do realise the Urban Dictionary elaborates on that word rather well.”

Polly asked sleepily, “It does?”

“Yep. The exact definition is a person—preferably a woman—who is such a hoe that their vagina has been stretched to such an extent that it can be used as a bag to carry things such as mail, yoga balls, iPods, and crayons. Look it up. That stuff is on Google.”

Polly rolled over, her eyes bugging. “Crayons? There are women who put crayons and iPods up their twatwaffles?”

“Apparently.”

“Well, I’ll use another turn of phrase then because I sure as hell don’t want household equipment up there.”

We burst out laughing before falling asleep with images of things going in girly places that should never be used in such ways.

Unless it was with Ryder.

And it was his perfect package.

I slept with a smile on my face.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

---------------------

Ryder

“NOW, YOU BETTER BE ON your best fucking behaviour, Rupe. Got it?”

My brother groaned for the millionth time since I’d barged into his guest room where I’d plonked him last night after too many beers. We’d had a great night catching up, chatting about Singapore, his business, and any tail he’d recently tapped.

To my surprise, he’d been as dry in that area as
I had been. And after one too many coronas, he’d even admitted that he was sick of sleeping around and lying about his name and bank balance. The next girl he shacked up with would be ‘the one.’

He successfully shoved me over with a feather at that confession.

My brother…the monogamous leper, suddenly wanted a wife.

Go figure.

Well, he can’t have mine.

You don’t have a wife.

Shut up.

I’m working on it.

Oh shit, I’m talking to myself.

I hadn’t been this nervous hosting a small gathering since I was sixteen and threw an illegal party in one of my parent’s renovation rentals. It had ended up way out of control, police were called, damages were paid for out of my measly farmhand wage, and I swore partying was for losers who put booze above careers.

“What’s got up your butt? Afraid I’m gonna chase away your girlfriend?” Rupert raked his hands through his thick dark hair that (if I was honest) needed a cut. The scruffy bad boy image screamed, ‘I have a surfboard and ten bucks to my name, want to blow me?’ Instead of what some scissors and a razor blade could deliver with, ‘I’m worth more than a small country and want to settle down with wholesome sweet woman. Dinner?’

Perhaps while he was in town, I’d help straighten him out in more areas than just helping him de-stress from working too much.

Clearing my throat, I said, “Afraid nope. Terrified yep.”

“Don’t be such a pussy.”

“I’m being rational. You have this uncanny ability to screw things up.”

Rupert grinned as he poured himself a mug of caffeine from the instant coffee pot. I preferred gourmet lattes, but we had a late start today and just got back from a mad rush around the store to get a shit load of food for a BBQ.

Despite having lots of animals on the property, and loving every creature great and small, I still ate meat. However, there was one animal I just couldn’t eat now I knew how kickass their personalities were and how loveable they could be when breaking the rules and snuggling in bed with you.

Pigs.

Pork, bacon, chops—anything that oinked was off the menu forever.

I’d never forgive myself if Hippo figured out I was eating her kin.