Resisting the Alien Rider (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides, #3)

by Ursa Dax

There was something distinctly hilarious about a guy as brooding and irritable as Garrek riding such an adorable mount with a pink heart on its ass.

I’d been unprepared for the consequences of standing over my father’s lifeless body while a young Oaken shook, white-eyed and silent, behind me.

😭😭😭😭😭

She made the act of pissing sound pretty. How was that even possible? I’d let her urinate on me if she wanted to.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Killian whipped his head to me so fast, and with such astonishment, I would have bet good credits that he’d never had somebody thank him for something before.

😭😭😭😭😭

I tried to ignore the fact that I was now rather pathetically envious of Killian, disappointed that Magnolia had not also referred to me as sweetened piss.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤭

You can’t scare me when you’ve got a frown like the Old-Earth devil himself but the ears of a child’s plush toy.”

“I don’t know what ‘hug’ means.

💔💔💔💔💔

She was right. I did not give out compliments often. To anyone. And yet I had dozens, hundreds of them lined up and waiting for her.

She laughed, loudly and freely, and the sound was a pour of glorious heat over my skin. I wanted to catch the sound in my hands, hold it tight, keep it somewhere safe.

“You’re so old you already smell like you’re dead. You should use some of Magnolia’s nice soap.”

Ruthless. 🤣

“Use it, then!” Killian called, with the relentless, hilarious meanness only a child could be capable of. “You’re one hundred cycles old but you smell like you’re one thousand.”

“You’re not thirty-six!” Killian scoffed. “You are one hundred and twenty, twenty-twenty thousand, eight billion, and four. You’d probably be dead by now if you didn’t have to stay alive to take care of me!”

The we hit me kind of funny. Made my tummy go tight and my cheeks warm.

“I don’t want to leave you!” Killian said in a broken little voice that damn near broke my heart.

😭😭😭😭😭

It felt like this was exactly where I was meant to be, where she was meant to be, where Killian was meant to be. Like this was what I was born for. That this was the life I was supposed to lead.

I guess I wanted to think that I could be brave, too. I wanted to reach for happiness with both hands.

“I want to marry you,” he said. “I want to build a life with you. Family. With you and Killian both.”

“I’m not Oaken. I’m not the man you came here for. But I can be the man you need. And I’ll work every day to be the man who deserves you.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?” “Asking. Pleading. I’ll beg you if I have to,” he groaned. “Get down on my knees and… Wait. I am already on my knees.”

Despite the fact he’d seemed less than impressed with it a second ago, he now clutched feverishly at it before glancing down at his own claws as if to make sure it was still there.

The ship in a bottle was tucked beneath his chin, held with both his hands.

“He was excited to help build his own room.”

Something told me that I should warn Oaken that he might need to disinfect his data tab after letting Garrek borrow it.

🤣🤣

“I learned,” he huffed on a hoarse breath, “about mating positions. And female erogenous zones. Like the clitohorses.” Clito-what-now?

Omg 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️

“And your nip-holes.” Oh God. “Garrek, what in the holy hills of Terra are nip-holes?”

I have clitohorses, nip-holes, and teats now. Learn something new every damn day.