Page 6 of Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy

Rosey

“Could Ostor Bronish please come up to the desk? Ostor Bronish. Please come up to the desk.”

We sat in the airport lounge, waiting to board our flight to Cancun, and my heart kept ping-ponging around in my chest. I was nervous. How could I not be? I’d avoided Jacob as much as I could after he quickly ended things with me, gushing about all my sister’s amazing attributes. I’d seen him twice in the six months since, and only at a distance. With my heart still feeling crushed, I’d done all I could to stay away. I was sure my sister knew what I was doing, but she’d kindly avoided mentioning it to my face. Mom giving me endless hugs and patting my back while clicking her tongue in sympathy had been bad enough.

I kept rubbing the cute little circular floral tattoo on the underside of my right wrist I’d somehow obtained since meeting Ostor. It wasn’t there before, and when I spied it the next morning, I couldn’t imagine where it had come from. Had I somehow pressed my arm against metal with an embossed symbol? It wasn’t etched in black or dark blue or any other normal tattoo color but in what looked like pure gold. I’d heard of permanent jewelry before, but I doubted it looked like this.

I’d had only one glass of wine at the bar that night so this wasn’t the result of me blacking out and going wild.

It wouldn’t wash off, no matter how hard I scrubbed. It hadn’t faded, and I wasn’t sure what to do or think about it, but I’d made an appointment to see my doctor when I got home in case it was still there. Did skin cancer look anything like this?

“Ostor Bronish?” the voice said, louder. “Pleasecome to the desk.”

That brought my brain to attention. I dropped my arm, deciding to ignore the mark for now, and turned to Ostor, nudging his elbow.

“Is someone speaking to me?” Ostor asked, crooking his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Where is the melodic voice coming from?”

“Her,” I pointed to the airline counter. “She needs to speak with you.” Hopefully there wasn’t an issue with his passport or something like that.

We grabbed our carry-ons and walked up to the desk.

“Ostor Bronish?” the woman in the airline uniform with a tag identifying her as Beverly asked with a smile that engulfed him in joy and flatlined when it turned my way.

“That’s me.” He shot me a concerned look. “I’m Ostor Bronish.”

“Congratulations,” Beverly gushed, her gaze sliding down his chest encased in a snug t-shirt emblazoned withLonesome Creek Cowboysin swirly letters on the front, made to look like a rope lassoing a fence post. “You’ve been upgraded to first class. We saw you were an orc, and we know how tight the economy seats can be and thought this might make your flight more enjoyable.”

“Oh, um, thanks?” Ostor whispered in my ear. “What does this mean?”

“You’ve been given a primo seat on the plane,” I said. Great for him. Not so great for me because we’d be separated. We’d planned to get to know each other better during the flight, though we’d texted a few times over the past few days and had some of the background stuff settled.

It was okay. We could run through the rest before we boarded and en route to the resort in the transport van.

“You’re living the high life now, buddy,” I said.

“You’ll board with Group 1.” Beverly leaned over the counter to pat his chest.

Getting touchy feely, wasn’t she? My face blazed, and my chest tightened as if someone had just slammed a heavy suitcase on top of it. I mean, he didn’t belong to me. Not really.

But sorta.

“I’m sure a big, brawny orc like you will enjoy the amenities offered in this class of service.” Beverly batted her long eyelashes at him. “Your new seat is 2A.”

“2A,” he said, his thick brow still scrunched together.

“If you’ll . . . give me your cell number, I’ll send the information to you,” she purred.

As well as her own number, no doubt. Jeez. Who tried to pick up a guy at the airport? It was clear he wasn’t standing here with his sister. I mean, I could be his wife. His fiancée. His not-pretend girlfriend.

“He won’t need anything like that.” I nudged his hand holding out his phone back down to his side. “He’s downloaded the app, and his new boarding pass will show there.”

“Oh, yes.” So much for Beverly’s smile. “Of course,” she minced out, her lips thinning. “Do you control all his actions or do you only police his phone?”

Fuck her.

My belly churned, and my pulse thundered in my ears. I bellied up to the counter with fury climbing up my throat.

Ostor took my hand, holding me back before I climbed over the counter and started ripping out her hair. “I assume Rosey has been gifted with primo as well?”

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