Page 51 of Resisting the Alien Rider

And Garrek didn’t want a bride.

The tears blurred my vision, and my needle slipped. I yelped, then cursed, shoving my bleeding thumb into my mouth.

“Magnolia?”

Startled, I looked up to see Garrek standing at the entrance to the tent, the flap pulled to one side.

And it feltsogood to see him. Scary, good. Scoop-of-your-favourite-ice-cream, good. First-sunny-spring-day-after-winter, good.

I will never love anything like I love the face before me now, good.

I should have put my big girl panties on and sucked it up. But in that moment, I just couldn’t.

I burst into tears.

Garrek’s face spasmed with alarm. In an instant, hewas in the tent and on his knees. His hands dove to cup my face, stroking along my cheeks, my jaw, searching for an injury.

“Magnolia, cursed Empire,what?What is it?”

I gave him a thumbs-up. Then shoved the thumbs-up in his face.

“I hurt my thumb!” I bawled. Like an idiot.

Garrek’s glowing eyes focused on the thumb I was frantically waving in front of him. Blood beaded there. He stared at that tiny speck of blood as if it were as ominous as an approaching storm.

When that bead of blood finally overflowed its tiny banks and rolled down, he lost it.

“Where’s your med kit?” he snarled. His fingers closed around my wrist in a vise-like grip. His tail thrashed around on the ground. It found the vest. “Here, use this for now,” he said, clumsily pressing the white fabric to my thumb.

“Not that!” I screeched. “I don’t want to get blood all over your new vest!”

I swatted at him, then yanked the vest away, putting it somewhere where he wouldn’t try to use it as a bandage for me. We were both panting. Garrek’s brow collapsed in bewilderment.

“I’m alright,” I said shakily, sniffing hard, embarrassment flooding through me. “I’m just… having a lot of big feelings right now.”

Ending an engagement to a man who wanted you because you’d fallen in love with a man who probably didn’t would do that to a girl, I guessed.

“Sorry for crying and… bleeding at you,” I said pathetically, sniffing again, fully expecting him to leave.

He didn’t.

“Zabrians bleed,” he finally said, “but they do not cry. Forgive me if…” He swallowed and rubbed his jaw. “Forgive me if I don’t know what to do.”

Forgive him.As if he’d done anything wrong at all.

In the ensuing silence, Garrek turned to look for my med kit, a little less hectically this time. He found a self-adhesive bandage there, and with excessive, focussed care, he peeled it apart and then looked at me expectantly.

“Give me your thumb.”

“I can do it myself.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

“I did not ask if you could do it yourself. In fact, I did not ask you anything at all. I told you to give me your thumb.”

Feeling thoroughly scolded and scoured raw by the unforgiving steel wool of humiliation, I raised my thumb without further argument.

“Good.” Garrek grasped my wrist once more. The tips of his fingers brushed the place my heart beat. My pulse ramped up beneath his calloused touch.

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