Wanted by the Alien Warden (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides, #4)

by Ursa Dax

The male with the sunset-orange hide lunged into the centre of the room, taking over most of my screen with all the various curves and bulges of his shoulders, abdomen, and pecs. He stepped closer, and soon the pecs were all I could see. I was completely blinded by the man’s boobs. Professional, Tasha! You’re a professional!

“Hello, Fallon.” I glanced quickly at my notes. “You’re Darcy’s husband?” “Yes!” A massive smile split his face, and it was so big and so pure that I almost didn’t even notice the sharp glint of fangs there. “I am eternally grateful to be able to say that I am, indeed, Darcy’s husband!”

“I have wanted to speak with you for some time,” Fallon said, his voice falling to a reverent hush. “I have wanted to thank you. For bestowing my beloved wife upon me. And-” It was the strangest thing, but it almost looked like his eyes began to glow white. “-to thank you for providing me with that most excellent guide to human women!”

“Without you and your most illuminating guide, I would not know about the wonders of the clitorosaurus.” “Oh, God,” whispered Cherry. “Fallon,” moaned Darcy. “We have talked about this!”

“Garrek, you weren’t even a participant! You said no!” “But then I saw her.” Magnolia’s smile got a little teary. Cherry made a quiet, “Aw!” sound.

“It’s OK!” Magnolia said quickly. “The murders were a long time ago. When they were just kids. By human standards the crimes wouldn’t even qualify as murder! It’s not like they’ve killed anyone on this planet!” “Don’t say it,” Cherry quietly hissed at Silar.

“We love our husbands. You don’t need to melt down over this. It doesn’t change anything for us.” Fallon’s face got all slack and dopey when Darcy mentioned that she loved him. Seriously, she wanted me to believe that that sweet, grinning, alien idiot killed someone?

“Jeez,” Cherry whispered to her husband. “Who pissed in his breakfast?” I whirled on her, nearly dropping my hat. “Who pissed where?” “It’s just a human expression!”

Not to mention the fact that if someone tried to take Cherry away from Silar now, they’d end up with their throat slit, bleeding out in some forgotten corner of his ranch. That was what happened to the last human who tried to take Silar’s wife from him.

No, my first idiotic thoughts were an examination of the fact that the screen I’d seen Tasha on before had not done her justice. Not even close.

“I am busy,” he bit out testily. “But I…” “But you what?” White streaked through his eyes, then disappeared. He hitched up his pants by his belt and fiercely uttered the next words. “But I’d make time for you.”

“I don’t even see their ears,” I said. On a whisper this time. Just in case. “They’re under the hats. And they are extremely cute, by the way.”

“I told you I was responsible for you,” he muttered, his orange eyes sparking white before returning to their original colour. “I will not let you break your butt.”

“I’m not having a mental breakdown!” “We are currently hiding under a blanket in a closet,” Cherry pointed out dryly.

I followed close behind, keeping those two joined human hands in my sights as I wondered, and pretended not to wonder, what it would be like to walk with such smooth, slender fingers laced easily with my own. Not just any fingers. Tasha’s.

Perhaps it was unusual for human males to touch the faces of their wives this way. I could not understand why that would be. If I were married to a human like Tasha, I imagined I’d spend a great deal of time gently drawing the pads of my fingers, or the surface of my knuckles, or the tip of my tongue along the prettily curved contours of her face.

“Oh, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Cherry replied quickly. “I know you’ve lost a lot of time today already, and have chores to catch up on.” Silar touched her face one final time and merely muttered, “Where you go, I go.”

“I am trying to ascertain,” he said grumpily – grumpily! The nerve of this man! – “why your stomach does not like me.” His gaze returned to my face, set and serious. “Do any other parts of you have a problem with me?”

He was a scoundrel of the highest order, and he… He had the cutest fucking ears I’d ever seen.

The ears in question twitched. Holy Terra. They were so… perky! And round! Cutie-patootie little Old-Earth mousie ears!

Part of that was because it felt rather ridiculous to consume food that had been arranged in the shape of a smiley face on my plate, something Fallon had very proudly claimed credit for.

“THEY HAVE A COCK TAIL.” “Alright. Um…” I slipped my comms tablet out of my pocket, ready to take notes. “A cock tail. And is this separate from the dicktacle?” “NOT THE DICKTACLE!” Darcy screeched, kicking Cherry and then nearly falling off the bed. “I TOLD YOU TO NEVER CALL IT THAT AGAIN!”

Warden Tenn looks like he’d be girthy. Not that it was any of my business.

“What style do you want?” I asked her, unfurling the fabric. “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” she said quickly. “Of course it matters,” I replied instantly. “If you’re going to be wearing it, then it matters. It matters to me greatly.”

your real strategy is to just butter me up?” “You want me to put butter on you?” I supposed I could, if she asked.

When I say what you want matters, it’s because it matters to me.

“No, Xennet,” Dorn said flatly, “while doing everything in my power to avoid a raging bull’s antlers, I did not have the presence of mind to attempt to feed it my hat.” “Well,” Xennet said with a swish of his tail. “There is always next time.”

You’re a lovely thing to see. I sighed internally, wishing that this new Tasha-worshipping voice inside my head would kindly shut up.

Masturbation. That is truly how I would have to survive. Masturbation and suffering.

As I got ready for bed, the warden did the same. Only, his version involved being very hot and half-naked.

“You don’t have to call me Warden,” he said. “You can just call me Tenn.”

“What would it take,” he asked quietly, “to get you comfortable enough with me to simply call me by my name?” “I… I don’t know. Time, I guess?” He chuckled softly. “Perfect,” he said, throaty and warm. “I’ve got nothing but time out here, Tasha. And if you want it, I can give you it all.”

“Next time something’s hurting you,” he said on a guttural growl, “you don’t go wiggling around, ignoring it, or trying to solve it yourself. You tell me. You tell me right away.”

“I don’t care what’s causing it. I don’t care if it’s me. You tell me.” A raw, raging emotion tore through that white gaze. “Especially if it’s me. You tell me, Tasha.”

No other man had ever cared about my hurts this way. Not one. And here Warden Tenn was, looking like he wanted to fling himself off a cliff, just because a part of his uniform had been poking me.

“When you’re hurting, you tell your warden. That’s your most important duty. That’s your job.” He lowered his face so that I felt his next words against my mouth more than heard them. “Fixing it is mine.”

Oh, Christ. What was I supposed to say now? Excuse me, good sir, but I apparently cannot get comfy and fall asleep while you’re out there pulling this weird alien emo act and staring at the ashes of the fire you just put out?

“No. I don’t want to try the kiss thing with someone,” he said instantly. “I only want to try it with you.”

“Where do I put my hands?” he panted against my mouth a few seconds later. “Where… Wherever you want,” I whispered shakily. “Don’t tell me that,” he groaned. “You might not like the places I’d put them.” What places? What places?!

I wanted to go back to the tent and kiss her again. And again. And again. And then I wanted to do even more. Did all the men feel this way when they’d first kissed their women? Did Fallon and Silar and Garrek all feel this… This tempest when they touched their wives?

I’d never felt so alive. The kiss had been a terrible idea. And it had been the best moment of my life.

I was afraid that I would never be happy with “for now.” I was afraid – maybe more afraid than I had ever been before – that what I really wanted was forever.

How depressing would it be, I wondered to myself, if I admitted that Tenn is probably my best friend?

“and I don’t even have a comb.” “I have a comb.” “Oh! You do?” “Of course I do. You think I don’t comb my hair? I’m not Silar.”

“Because,” he said in a low voice, “I’ve been wanting to comb this beautiful hair from the very first day I met you.”

“How does it feel,” he murmured, “to be the only one in this world capable of making a Zabrian warden beg?” He was begging me. I was dying to touch you.

Tenn, when I’d first met him, had been intimidating, too. But for different reasons. He was intimidating because he’d shown himself to be so competent, so commanding, and so unfairly hot.

“Why don’t you go over there?” I asked him, pointing at a much nicer, flatter spot between some trees about five metres from the back of the house. “Too far away,” Tenn grunted, finally succeeding in getting the tent to stand up. “Too far away from what?” “From you. Obviously.”

little bit more, I could kiss him. “Yes, Tenn,” I murmured. “Never thought I’d say this, but you are definitely my favourite Zabrian warden.” “Good,” he said quietly.

unlike what I’d seen of men like Fallon, Oaken, and Silar, they were all fully dressed. They were even matching, wearing the same outfits of black and white and…. Holy fucking Terra. Were those tuxedos?! Yup. There was no way I was wrong about that. As Tenn brought our shuldu to a stop and I got a better look at the three Zabrian males before me, I could see that they were absolutely wearing tuxedos, complete with bowties and cummerbunds. And cowboy hats. Couldn’t forget the cowboy hats.