Married to the Alien Cowboy (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides, #1)

by Ursa Dax

“You’ve never even been with one woman,” Zohro snapped, “what in the great blazing span of my largest bull’s backside would you do with four?”

At this point I’d consent to a tail amputation if it meant I got to keep her.

“What’s ‘kiss?’” my new husband asked.

“I also have a wagon,” he added in a sudden rush. “Just… So you know.”

“There’s a tub for laundry. You’re small. You’d fit in it.”

I wondered if humans only ever did the kiss ritual at weddings. I did not see how we could have another wedding so that I could repeat the experience. But maybe they also did the kiss thing at other important ceremonies, like funerals. I found myself rather foolishly hoping that someone might die soon so that I could find out. Maybe Zohro. No one would miss him. It would be worth it.

He was building a whole freaking set of furniture simply because I’d mentioned the lack of it.

“The heat you require, I will provide.”

I wanted to grab at the shirt and wring out the fabric into my own mouth. Suck on the soaked ends of her hair. Taste the water on her skin. Touch the things she did not call udders again. Feel the curved weight in my hands when I was not half out of my mind with fear.

He said, “Goodnight,” – a hushed pause – “wife.”

“Her hearing isn’t good,” I explained. “It isn’t?” “I think it is a human thing.” “Oh,”

“Not that one. That’s the one I made for Cherry,” Silar gritted out. “You sit on the old one.”

“What do the teerz mean, and how do I heal them?”

“Yes. I brought you in here to check you for injuries. The teerz are the most obvious and must be dealt with first.”

“Are you quite well?” Fallon inquired, sounding genuinely concerned as Silar hauled him up and out of the chair.

“Oh, my sweet summer Silar,” she sighed. I frowned. “I was born in winter.”

“All I care about is that, if you are running, I’m the one you run to.”

“I will haul my heart up into my mouth for you, Cherry. Let you hear it. See it. Hold it in your hand. You’re the one who taught me I still have one.”

“Every credit to my name,” he said gruffly, “every piece of this property, every store of my strength, every beat of my heart… It’s all for you, Cherry. Everything’s for you.”

“Not that,” he groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head, his hips surging forwards. “I mean… Yes, that… But also…”