Page 105 of Where There's Smoke
Fluffy Paws Rescue, located next to Station Seventeen, was open for business, and it was more than I could have ever dreamed of.
Fitz had claimed it was only a small facility when he showed me around, but he was under-exaggerating, insanely so, in fact. The layout of the building was beyond what I could have dreamed, and the prospect of getting to deck it out with all the things a busy shelter neededwithoutresorting to older models or refurbished items was incredible.
I now had space for up to fifty dogs and thirty cats. I would never have to say no to a stray who came my way for a surrender. Ultimately there was so much space, that I opted to sell the old land. There was too many bad memories attached and the new rescue was going to need all my attention.
The first thing we did after we'd finished setting up the rescue was get all my previous rescues back. Luckily, quite a few had been adopted over the last few months, so I only had a few left. The shelter was state-of-the-art, and there were even twolarge fields behind the property that were fenced in so I could let the dogs out to run around.
Though, half the time they didn't even need that because, thanks to all the firefighters in the area volunteering to walk the dogs, my pooches were the most well-exercised in the city. Hell, the county.
We even had a small veterinary clinic. A convenient medical room with a treatment table and a good stock of things we could use if our furry friends were in need of some care at the time of surrender or if they got sick during their stay at the shelter.
“We really need to look at hiring a vet tech, don't we?” Samson said as he finished putting up a shelf in the medical room.
I turned toward him, my eyes immediately going to the tight fit of his jeans and the way they framed his ass. He looked damn good in his simple white shirt, the muscles of his arms rippling as he bent over his project.God, I could just eat him up.
“We do. I just don't know who's going to be affordable, and someone we can also trust,” I mused as I watched him work.
There was something so satisfying about watching my pack mates getting all sweaty doing manual labor. The way they worked so hard but made it look effortless had a surefire way of getting me to think aboutwhat elsethey could be throwing around.
“Have you ever thought about going to school to become a vet tech?” Samson asked as he stood back, looking at his handiwork.
Snuggling into his side, I hummed. “I have. It's expensive, and even though it would be useful, it’ll take quite a bit of time. How would I manage the shelterandschool?”
“Well, you know, money isn't a concern for us. If you wanted to start taking some classes, we would happily pay. And because the rescue is right next door to the station, we can keep an eye onthings here. We can also recruit a few volunteers and maybe hire one or two people to help run the place when you’re gone.”
I glanced up at my mate. Becoming a vet tech had been a pipe dream of mine for many years, and at this point, I just assumed it was never going to happen. And now, casually on a Friday, Samson was telling me it could be a reality.
“Well…I…”
Samson chuckled, kissing the top of my head. “It's up to you if you want to do it, but the option is there. You know we’ll support you in anything you want to do.”
I sighed, melting into his embrace. “You guys are too good to me.”
“Nah.” Samson shook his head. “We just recognize how amazing our omega is, and we want to help her shine. Speaking of helping, what else can I do? I'm sure you've got a whole list of jobs that need to be done.”
I bit my lip. I did, in fact, have a list, but I didn't want to be that obvious. “Well, some of the kennel doors could use oiling, and there're so many boxes of donations that need to be organized.” I grinned at him.
“Say no more.” He gave me another quick hug before sauntering out of the room.
I watched him head off to do me more favors, so grateful I had him in my life. In the meantime, smaller items needed to be dealt with from the donations I’d already gone through. I walked over to the small table in the intake room, folding blankets for the kennels that I’d put in each one for whoever would be staying there.
“Hey, firecracker! Do you want pizza?” Fitz’s voice rang out as he poked his head around the door.
Smiling, I nodded, setting a blanket to the side. “You know I’ll never say no to that!”
He grinned. “Good, because I already ordered it. I was thinking we could eat here, then go home. Chord is stopping by to take our old couch out of the garage, since he has no furniture at his new place. He wants to get the place set up before Lilia joins him.”
“That sounds perfect. Oh! If you have a few minutes, can you take Dotty out to go potty?” I asked.
“Of course. Dotty! Come do your puddles,” he called out.
The Dalmatian puppy that was nipping at my ankles looked excitedly at my pack mate before perking her ears up and trotting after him.
She was getting so good at doing what she was told. As long as she was with one of us, she was content. We had long since decided that Dotty wasn't going anywhere. She wasourdog.
A little firehouse pooch. A Dalmatian and everything.
Once they were gone, I went back to my task of folding blankets and getting the rescue perfectly ready for our new furry friends.
