Page 56 of Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy

Once again, I wanted to kick Jacob. “What did he say to you?”

“Only good things. He said you’re amazing. That you deserve the best of everything. That he hates that he hurt you, though he couldn’t help loving Macy. He said you deserve someone who knows what they’re doing, someone who can handle your warmth and strength and every shiny thing about you that should never be dimmed.”

I blinked, the weight of his words knocking me sideways. “Jacob said all that?”

Ostor nodded, his gaze locked on mine like I was the only thing tethering him to the ground. “He was right, Rosey. You’re wonderful. Perfect. Sublime. The kind of person any man or orc would be honored to have by their side. He told me ways to win your love, how to be everything you need. And I ruined it. I . . . I . . .” Emotion clogged his throat, cutting him off, but I didn’t need him to finish.

I already knew what he was trying to say.

Tears spilled down my cheeks. This big, sweet, awkward orc was kneeling in the middle of a crosswalk because he couldn’t let me walk away without trying to tell me everything he felt for me in his heart.

“Get up,” I said, my voice half-laugh, half-sob as I tugged his hands. “Please.”

“How can I fix it?” His wide, black eyes searched mine, vulnerable and so painfully, achingly hopeful that it twisted my heart into knots. “Tell me. I'll do anything you ask, whatever you need.”

“Get up, Ostor.” I tugged harder, and he finally rose to his feet, towering over me. “You’re too hard on yourself. Don’t you already know? I don’t need fancy dates or bouquets of flowers or whatever else Jacob might have suggested. I only need you, Ostor. Nothing and no one else. Justyou.”

“Does that mean . . . Do you mean you'll give me another chance to prove to you that I love you?”

“It does, cowboy.” My lips curved into a smile. “Because I love you too, and that’s all that truly matters.”

“You do?”

I nodded. “I do. I love you so much.”

“Rosey,” he groaned, cupping my face with a delicate touch. “Rosey.”

I snagged his cowboy hat and smacked it onto my head. Then I leaped into his wide-open arms.

Chapter 24

Epilogue

ROSEY

Two Months Later

The sun hung near the horizon in a clear blue sky as the stagecoach creaked to a stop at the center of Lonesome Creek, the newly created “Wild West” town where Ostor and his six brothers would soon open a new tourist destination. It looked the part of a Western ghost town with its dusty wood-planked sidewalks, swinging saloon doors, and weathered signs for the general store, jailhouse, and a schoolhouse.

“This . . .” I trailed off, clutching the edge of the coach door. “This is amazing, Ostor.”

He hopped down first, his boots kicking up small puffs of dust. Spinning toward me, he grinned, tipping his hat back enough for me to catch the gleam of pride in his eyes. “Welcome to your new home, tiny one.”

The words were a little softer than his usual teasing, and my chest clenched at the way he said them. He’d dreamed of this moment as much as I had. This move was something we’dplanned together, but hearing him call it my home out loud? It hit differently.

I'd quit my job and jumped all in with this new adventure, where I planned to help take care of the vast gardens they planned. Finally, I’d have a new use for the green thumb I’d had since I was little. They hoped to feed their guests completely from what they could grow and hunt on the surrounding land, and I would be a part of it all.

Taking both my hands in his, he steadied me as I stepped down. My sandals landed on firm ground, and before I could take in much of anything else, the air filled with a cacophony of cheers and running foot stomps. Six enormous orcs dressed in chaps, patterned shirts, open leather vests, and cowboy hats, waved and hollered as they rushed toward us from what looked like a combination barn and meeting hall on the town's edge. A slightly smaller orc woman with streaks of white in her short green hair led the charge.

Ostor grinned, his arm slipping around my shoulders as the group hustled over. “Here come my brothers and Aunt Inla.”

Ah, the infamous brothers. I’d heard plenty about them over the past months, their names coming up in Ostor’s stories every other sentence, but I’d only met Greel, who’d come to the airport to collect Ostor. He’d stared at me, his mouth slightly ajar, and said absolutely nothing. Ostor had mentioned that Greel was married to a woman named Jessi, and I couldn’t wait to meet her. We could compare notes. Not about that . . . but about how amazing our orc guys were.

Sel, Hail, Dungar, Tark, Ruugar, and Greel. Six big, goofy, pointy-eared versions of Ostor. They were also terrifyingly huge and adorably lonesome. They all needed brides, and I was going to see what I could do about that.

They came to a stop and all removed their hats, holding them against their chests while shuffling their dusty boots across the ground, their dark gazes darting in all sorts of directions.

“Ostor.” One of them leaped forward, giving my mate a back-slapping hug that looked like it could break a boulder. “Is this your precious human with the perfect name of Rosey?”

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