Page 23 of Fake Dating an Orc Cowboy

Rosey cleared her throat, snapping the tension between us. “Macy, this is Ostor.” She gave my waist a quick squeeze. “Ostor, this is Macy, my sister.”

“Pleased to meet you.” I offered Macy a grin. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Rosey talks about you all the time.”

Macy's bright laugh broke through the air, and her eyes warmed when they turned back to her sister. “Oh, she does, huh? I’m glad.” She leaned into the guy at her side and gave him a playful nudge. “Jacob, this is Ostor, Rosey’s,” her eyebrows went up ever-so-slightly, and her lips curled knowingly, “boyfriend.”

Boy. Friend. I was no boy. I wasn't sure I was even a friend. But when one combined the words, they meant something much more than they did while separate. Rosey'sboyfriend. The word sent a pulse of possession through me. But I stomped that feeling down deep because I didn't want to show too much.Not when the male Rosey had cared for was standing there, his eyes darting between me and her like he was assessing my dominance, my determination, and my confidence. The latter was lacking most of the time, but this was a show, and I'd do anything to please Rosey.

Jacob’s expression stayed neutral, but his gaze wasn’t. It did that whole up-and-down thing a male sorhox might do when it measured a challenger. My protective instincts stirred, as if my body was lifting back hackles in a show of strength.

I forced my face to relax, to keep my expression easy. “Jacob, it’s nice to meet you.”

A handshake would’ve been the natural gesture for a human, but the problem was, my hands were locked around Rosey, and leaving her was not an option. So, I gave him a chin-nod, my gaze locking with his just like a male sorhox would do when he wanted to show a youngling he was quite willing to attack if threatened.

Jacob didn’t smile, not exactly, but he gave me a short nod back. “You too. You’re . . . with Rosey, eh?”

“Yes.” My smile widened. “She’s wonderful.”

His eyes shot to her, and when I read a hint of protectiveness in his gaze, I relaxed. Somewhat. He’d still need watching.

Macy, completely oblivious to the undercurrents running between us, clapped her hands. “Come sit with us! Mom and Dad will be here tomorrow, but the rest of the crew has arrived! Drinks are flowing, the sun’s shining. And we're in Mexico for my awesome wedding!”

Rosey exhaled, the tension draining from her in one whoosh. I was going to make sure she relaxed if it took everything inside me.

“Yeah, let’s go hang out.” She flashed a quick, almost real smile at her sister. We trudged through the water together toward the cluster of humans lounging around the bar. Thewhole scene was bright and loud, everyone's voices mingling with the splash of water and clinking glasses. Shouts from those playing in the water behind us.

A cacophony of names flew around as one person after another introduced themselves. Some were males who'd stand with Jacob at the wedding, while the rest were Macy's female friends. Macy’s crew, as she called them.

I couldn’t keep track of them all. So many unusual names. They blurred into one long, exhausting string of syllables.

Rosey must’ve noticed my wince. She tugged at my hand, urging me to bend down close to her. Her lips brushed my ear, sending a jolt of awareness through me. “Don’t worry about remembering everyone. I’ll help you later.”

I nodded.

“Okay, everybody. Tequila time!” Macy's voice boomed across the pool, and they all turned toward the bar.

There was that word again I’d heard in the lobby.

Macy signaled the dark-skinned male standing behind the bar, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt. He looked so formal, he must be the owner. Nice of him to join us, to welcome us with his bright smile. He laid a row of tiny glasses on the smooth, glossy surface and grabbed one of the many bottles lined up between us.

“What exactly is this teek-eela?” I asked, remembering how the boob-ly pain drink made me feel silly, how it made me sing. Everyone around us laughed or joined in with my song. If I behaved in a similar manner, would this group do the same?

“Tequila.” Rosey said it slowly and for my ears alone, and I practiced it until it came out seamless. She settled on a floating mound of a chair, and I moved to stand behind her, placing my palms loosely on her shoulders. She gave one of my hands a squeeze, leaning back against my belly and looking up at me.“Tequila's a popular drink in Mexico. It’s made from agave, and it’s really strong. You shoot it.”

I stiffened, peering around, though I spied no weapons. “We’re not shooting anything.”

Laughter erupted from a group nearby, one of them letting out a snort loud enough to echo across the pool.

Rosey’s face tightened, her eyes narrowing into hard slits as she turned toward the offenders. Their laughter faded, and the ones who’d been chuckling suddenly became interested in their drinks, as if the floating foam garnish on top might explode and smack them in the face.

I hoped it did.

She was protective, my Rosey. My chest warmed at the thought. A pit of awkwardness tingled there as well. I hadn’t meant to say something wrong, but it seemed I did almost every time I opened my mouth. What did ‘shooting’ mean for humans if it wasn’t linked to combat? Human nuances slipped past me too often. By the fates, I needed to do better. I wanted Rosey to be proud to have me standing here with her.

I shifted my feet, trying to shake off the awkward feeling clinging to me like vines in a dark cavern. Thankfully, before the silence could stretch too far, the owner of this fine establishment nudged the tiny row of glasses filled with amber liquid toward us.

The others sprinkled white crystals on the web of skin between their thumb and index finger and each took a slice of a green and white thing that could be a vegetable, a meat, or even a fruit.

I did the same, wanting to fit in.

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