Page 8 of Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy

“Ensure Rosey Trent is sitting beside me,” he said. “Or I’ll post a complaint online.”

Air jerked in and out of Beverly’s chest, making her boobs wiggle. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. Ma’am.” That, I doubted. “I’ll see what I can do.” All business now, she ducked behind her computer screen, and frankly, I would’ve too. Although, I wouldn’t have played mean girl with another woman when it was clear she was with the guy I’d set my sights on.

Women needed to stick up for each other.

A few clicks and she looked up, avoiding both of our gazes. “The seat next to yours was open, sir, and I’ve moved your wife to that spot.”

“Thank you.” Taking my hand, Ostor led me back to our chairs, where we sat.

“Well.” I placed my carry-on bag on the floor beside me and spent a long time fussing with it. I couldn’t bear to look at him and not because he’d declared to the world that I was his wife, that I washis.

That kiss . . . It was going to haunt me throughout the weekend.

“Yes, well.” His voice rang with the same heated satisfaction I’d found in his eyes.

“Honeymoon,” I whispered. At least everyone had returned to whatever they were doing and the guys sitting at a nearby bar had stopped hooting. “The word is honeymoon. Not moon of the honey.” Thought that sounded cute.

“Ah,honeymoon. I’ll remember.”

“We’re not married.”

“Not in the human way. That is correct.”

“Not in any way.” I looked up at him, dragging my eyes from his when I found raw hunger there. This guycravedme. Why?

“We shall see.” His gaze scanned the room before returning to me. “What are your questions, mate?”

Mate?

I should be telling him in no uncertain terms that his sudden alpha tendencies needed to be suppressed, but I couldn’t find the breath to shout the words out.

“Um, um . . . What’s your favorite color?” I asked.

“Green.”

No surprise there.

“Mine’s blue. Your favorite food?”

“Smoked sorhox.”

I crooked my neck to frown up at him. “What’s a sorhox?”

“An orc version of your cow. They’re much bigger however.”

“What do they look like?”

“They’re a darker green than me.” He poked his muscular forearm, making it blanche before smoothing back to medium green again. “They have long claws instead of hooves.” He stretched his arms out about twelve inches. “A spiked tail that you’d be wise to avoid.”

“Why?” I couldn’t imagine such a creature.

“One gouge could hurt or even kill.”

“I’ll stay away from its tail.” Not that I’d ever see, let alone get near a sorhox.

“I’ll be with you when the time comes.” Taking my hand, he kissed the back. Normally, a gesture like that might make me cringe, but with him, it made me want to climb into his lap and beg for another kiss. “They’re quite gentle. You’ll adore them.”

Why was he acting as if I’d meet even one sorhox? I doubted I’d find them at the resort in Cancun, and when we got back home, we’d part ways. I’d never see him again—something I was beginning to suspect would make me sad.

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