Married to the Alien Mountain Man (Cowboy Colony Mail-Order Brides, #5)

by Ursa Dax

“I decided long ago I do not want someone who does not want me. I will simply wait for the one who does.”

Did I say there was something wrong with him? I take it back. This is the best alien murderer with a possible concussion that I’ve ever met. I love you, you weird, mouse-eared, dark-haired, jolly green stranger!

“My name is Oaken,” I told her in gentle tones. “I may be a prisoner of this world, but every day I try my best to be a decent sort of man. I may not have many credits to my name. I may not have parts for your ship. But I have walls to put around you. Food on my table to share with you. I can’t give you much. But I can give you a place here. And I can give you time. The time you need.”

I figured those were all fairly good green flags. Hell, even Oaken himself was green all over,

“Poor Jaya just landed here in distress, with no working ship and no friends around, and the best you two boneheads could come up with to help her is a marriage proposal?!”

“Magnolia just made lunch. And you can at least stay that long without having to become somebody’s wife first. Right, Tenn?”

“It should be a… a bucket. A wedding bucket. But I didn’t want to put this little flower… in a bucket.” “A bouquet,” Tasha quietly corrected.

“If I’d had a few more flowers, I would have made you a proper boo… Booty-cake.”

I was ninety-nine percent sure the guy was a weirdo. I was one hundred percent sure that he was also a total sweetheart.

I wasn’t supposed to be ogling my temporary husband at our fake wedding.

Just one. One tiny little kiss. Touching our mouths together wasn’t nearly as significant as the fact that we’d just legally tied ourselves to each other.

What the hell was Oaken talking about booty-cakes for when the man was stacked with his own damn bakery back there?

I slipped the bangle onto my left wrist. It was a perfect fit.

ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE HIM HUSBAND LESSONS?????

SEND ME A COPY OF HIS REPORT CARD, I BEG OF YOU.

“You have caboosebumps.”

I should let her hit me in the head with a hammer more often…

Did I have a crush on my husband? My alien mountain man cowboy convict husband? My fake husband?! No. Impossible.

“I think you are beautiful. And I would very much like to perform cunni-linguine on you.”

Sneaky Tasha. Making sure the cowboys were more educated on eating pussy than they were on getting their dicks sucked. What a most excellent human-Zabrian liaison. Truly, an ally to all womankind.

“If you say cunni-linguine,” I squeaked, my brain melting into soup, “I am going to lose my mind.” “Oh. Sorry.” His face crumpled with concentration. “Cunni…” “Oaken-” “Cunni-lingonberries.” “Oh, God, please stop,”

“The clitorolla.”

“I worry that… That you might get blisters one day, out on some other world without me. And I won’t be there to carry you home when you do.”