Page 33 of Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy

“Hmm.” He squinted out at the waves, as if searching for a deity shrouded somewhere in the foam.

We turned to head back, but he stopped walking, shifting around to face me. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. “Thank you again.”

“For what?”

“For this. For everything. I know this weekend isn’t what you expected, but I want you to know that you’ve made it something more. Something special.” His brow pinched, like he was trying to find the right words. “The orc kingdom is far, far away, but I don’t believe I’ve ever felt so at home.”

My chest tightened in the best way possible, and I held his gaze and smiled back.

“Me neither,” I whispered.

Chapter 14

Ostor

We returned to the resort and sat on lounge chairs in the shade near the pool, watching people play in the water. Staff came by and offered us drinks of every color and taste imaginable. After tequila, I was cautious.

Mary of the blood was not a favorite.

But I adored the pee-pee-na cool-ada, which was as chilly as the “cool” part of its name. Although . . .

“Please tell me there’s no true pee in this beverage,” I said, studying the foamy white drink in the tall glass topped with a smooth stick piercing a round red blob and a square of peen-apple. I’d tasted peen-apple at the buffet at breakfast, and while I was grateful not to taste pine, or pee, for that matter, in the fruit, I also didn’t taste apple.

Why did humans give everything names that made no sense?

“It does not,” Rosey said. “You’ll love it.”

“As much as tequila?”

“Even more.”

“Hey, there you are!” An older human couple strolled toward us, the female dressed in a dress splattered with big pink flowersand the male wearing a button-up, short-sleeved shirt that matched over teal-colored swim trunks.

They marched over and stood in front of our loungers, the woman’s warm gaze gliding from Rosey to light up when it reached me.

The male did the same, studying us both, me most of all.

“Mom,” Rosey said, rising from her lounge chair. “Dad. You arrived.”

“Not long ago, sweetheart,” Rosey’s mother said. “We unpacked and came down to the pool, hoping to find you or Macy.” She peered around. “Where is your sister, my gorgeous soon-to-be-blushing-bride? Where’s Jacob?”

“I assume still in their room,” Rosey said. Her smile slid to me. “Mom, Dad? This is Ostor Bronish, my date for the weekend. Ostor? These are my parents, Brandon and Jenny.”

“Nice to meet you, Ostor.” Jenny leaned close to Rosey. “You didn’t tell me you had a new boyfriend. He’s cute.”

Rosey’s smile widened. “I keep telling him that, but for some reason, the thought of being cute makes him glower.”

Not too much. If “cute” came with a tease or a kiss, I was all for it.

Rising, I extended my hand toward Brandon in the human way of greeting. “Welcome to Cancun.”

“Date for the weekend?” he barked. “What are your intentions toward my daughter?”

My smile wavered, but I shored it up with a jolt of confidence I didn’t feel.

“Dad,” Rosey sighed, rolling her eyes. “Please. I’m twenty-eight years old. I don’t need you vetting my dates.”

Her dad winced. “There’s no harm in asking.” His level gaze met mine. “I don’t want you taking advantage of my daughter.”

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