Wrangled by the Alien Rancher (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides, #2)

by Ursa Dax

A husband? Actually making you happy? What the fuck kind of crazy-ass planet had I landed on?

From the moment she’d stepped out of that human craft, she’d been mine. And I was not about to let something as tiny and unimportant as the fact I’d once murdered a man get in the way.

Only once, in the doorway, did she turn to look back at me, making sure I’d followed. She didn’t know me very well yet. Because if she did, she never would have needed to turn around and check.

He had eyes for her and her only, and expecting him to extend his puny stores of affection to anyone else beyond his wife was simply asking too much.

“A man could read a thousand books on human women and never be any closer to actually understanding them. You’ll have to learn through trial and error and making a complete fool of yourself.”

“It is already taken care of,” Fallon said breezily. Then, more seriously, he added “I can be a provider for you, Darcy. Let me.”

I absolutely refused to stay with an angry, abusive man. Even if I had to scrub toilets or sell drugs or strip on Elora Station, I wouldn’t submit to the destiny my mother had picked out for me. I would have rather died.

What had she called that human pet creature? The one she had called “cute” and “skittish?”

A cat. My wife was like a cat. I wonder how you make a cat love you…

“I’m not skittish,” she protested. “I’m just… I’m just… reserved!” “Yes. My reserved little cat.” “Fallon!” “Drink your tea, little cat.” “Oh my God.”

could not remember the last time someone had cared enough to worry about me.

I am so glad I have a wife. This is the best.

“Storms. Rain. Darkness. None of it matters. None of it could keep me away. I’ll always come back to you, Darcy. Always.”

But, surprisingly, it wasn’t. It was just a part of my husband. And as I was growing to care for my husband at a slightly alarming rate, the fact that he had a snakey dick tentacle flapping around down there was just another thing to get used to. To maybe even like.

“I like being called your man.” Heat flooded into my cheeks. “Oh,” I murmured. Goddamnit, why was he so straightforward? Didn’t he know you were supposed to obscure and conceal every real thing you ever felt? Pretty sure I’d learned that by the time I was five.

“Are you getting aroused just because I called you ‘my man’?” I asked, flabbergasted. It was such a simple thing! “Yes,” he answered gruffly. He swallowed hard, his thick neck working. “Maybe next time you could even call me ‘Husband.’” When he said that, his cock gave a throbbing spasm, clearly loving the idea.

This man was literally turned on just by the idea of being married to me. “You’re that happy?” I asked in bewilderment. “Just to be my husband?”

“Happiness does not begin to describe the way I feel,” he said in a voice that could have been strained with emotion but instead was very calm, clear, every word precise. Like he didn’t want me to miss or mistake a single syllable. “For the first time since I was a child, I look into my future and I see something worthwhile. I see something good.” He brushed his knuckles softly against my cheek. “And it’s you.”

Oh, no. I was not about to start bawling because my alien husband just said I was good and made his life worthwhile.

“Why did you come out here for marriage?” Fallon cocked his head, eyeing me both appraisingly and appreciatively, making my throat go dry and my stomach clench. “You are so beautiful. Elegant. Clever. Brave. While I doubt there is a single human male out there who could deserve you, surely you must have had them falling at your feet for a chance with you.”

Frankly, I found it rather rude that he did not immediately go white-eyed and fall to his knees when confronted with my wife’s beauty for the first time.

I was falling in love with this man. Despite the walls I’d thrown up, Fallon had scaled or pummelled or jumped over them all. He’d thrown big, orange lasso right around my human heart like I was some stupid rogue bull to be wrangled. And it had fucking worked.

“You don’t do it yourself, do you? You made it sound like someone else always did it for you before,” he said. His tail wrapped around my waist and tugged until I fell unsteadily into a chair. “I am your husband. I will be the one to do it for you now.”

“You must really like my pink hair,” I said, my voice cracking unexpectedly, “to go to all this trouble.” “I think it is beautiful,” he murmured, stroking liquid down the lengths of my strands, “as is the rest of you. But I do this for your happiness, not my own gratification. I would not care if you had red hair, blue hair, or none at all.”

“My wife is kind. She is competent. She is loyal and protective. She cares immensely for her friends, for animals. She would put herself in danger to help them and she has done so. She is the bravest person I have ever known.”

I loved being with the animals. I couldn’t believe it, but I even loved getting dirty. I loved how tired I was at the end of the day, not a depressed sort of tired, but an “I did good work today” tired. The only thing that could have made it all better was Fallon being back to his normal self.