Page 72 of Rescued By the Alien Bull Rider

JOLENE

Despite my excitement about Zohro’s proposition, I didn’t jump into a shuldu saddle right away. I wanted to recover more of my core and pelvic floor strength first, so Zohro spent some time researching before coming back to me with a list of exercises I was supposed to do. I worked on them, progressively challenging myself more and more.

I relished the feeling of regaining control over my own body. Of having something to focus on, to work towards, that wasn’t baby-related. Zohro supervised me closely to make sure I didn’t get injured. For some reason, he seemed very concerned about the hip thrust-type exercises, or anything that had my butt up in the air. He always watched me really closely when I did those sorts of moves, his eyes white and his expression intense with scrutiny. I hoped he didn’t find my form too crappy, but he never seemed to have much constructive criticism for me, so I supposed it was alright.

I worked on my exercises for more than a month, eventually adding Autumn in as some extra weight for the squats. Zohro had created a perfect little baby-wearing carrier for her, so I strapped her on and bounced her. It was so much easier to workthrough the burning in my ass and thighs when she smiled in delight at being lifted up and down by the motion.

Because, yeah. She was smiling now. And that shit was like fucking drugs. A shot of pure joy that lit up my brain like fireworks. That made me feel like I could do anything.

The first time she ever smiled, it was at Zohro, and I’d thought that my heart would literally explode.

When I wasn’t working out, Zohro made sure to get me out of the house more as well. He would strap Autumn onto his own chest for walks around the property, leaving me free to walk as fast as I wanted and swing my arms around.

And ogle him. Because, Jesus fucking Christ, he really did have magnificent daddy vibes.

Zohro wore Autumn into the stables, allowing me to get used to the shuldu all over again. I brushed them, inspected their hooves, refilled their water. Zohro didn’t let me touch the hay, even with gloves on, but after a while I was doing basically everything else shuldu-related completely on my own. And it made me feel amazing.

It made me feel likeme.

When Autumn was two and a half months old, I got onto a shuldu by myself for the first time.

“I am right here,” Zohro said, holding the reins on the ground beside me. Sunlight drenched the paddock. Autumn was safe in her cradle, which Zohro had carried all the way out here and placed in the shade of a tree.

I nodded, suddenly unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Zohro had been such an enduring support. Not just with Autumn, but from the moment I’d arrived on this planet. He’d done so much for me – for both of us.

I didn’t know how I would have made it without him.

I fucking loved him so much.

I tore my eyes away from his face before I started sobbing. Taking a steadying breath, I urged Wyn into a gentle walk.

She moved, and I immediately felt at ease, settling into muscle memory carved out from years and years of riding. I’d nursed a secret fear that even with all my riding experience, and all the work I’d put into my exercises, that this wouldn’t work. That I would somehow be broken off from the rider I’d once been.

But I was still her. Or she was still me, or…

Whatever. I was fucking riding!

After a few laps of the paddock, I moved up into a trot, grinning like an idiot. This was better than a roller coaster, better than the fastest shuttle ride. I spied Zohro from across the paddock. He was holding Autumn now. Holding her so that she could see me.

And he was smiling.

Not at the baby. But atme.

He looked so damn happy.

He looked so fuckingproud.

When I slowed Wyn to a walk once more and approached them, Zohro still wore that triumphant smile. Beaming, he said, “Look at your mother, Autumn!” And then, fiercely, “Look at mywife!”

And then, I did cry. Because he was so perfect. And I wasn’t. But he’d married me anyway. Zohro’s smile faded. As he placed Autumn back in her cradle, I tearily dismounted, pleased enough at how easy the movement was that I was able to gain control of the tears.

“Are you injured?” Zohro asked, his hands rising to cup my jaw.

“No. Not at all. I feel incredible!” I sniffed, then laughed. Zohro’s white gaze dropped to my mouth. And stayed there.

Was he…

No.

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