Page 54 of Rescued By the Alien Bull Rider

“That’s… That’s just the way things are.”

How was I supposed to tell him that I’d never been somebody people wanted to go to bat for? That I’d never been anybody’s first choice?

Not even his. If I hadn’t been pregnant, if he hadn’t seen his sister in me, then Zohro himself probably would have chosen someone else to marry.

But he’d made his decision, and it seemed he planned to stick to it. That Zabrian sense of honour was holding fast.

“That is not the way things are now,” he practically spat. He pointed a savage claw towards the house. “As long as I live, Jolene – no,longer. As long as that house still stands with my bones buried beside it, you have a home. All others before have failed you.” He dropped his hand and raised his chin. “I will not.”

And I knew in that moment, standing in that sunset-burnished field with the beautiful shuldu grazing around us, Zohro’s eyes like hot stars and his words like a vow, that I would stay. I would stay beyond the trial period.

Stay forever.

Even if he never cared for me the way I was already terrified that I was beginning to care for him.

That night, I told Tasha and the warden that I was alright now. I told them they could leave.

So they did.

22

JOLENE

No one ever told me how painful it would be to start falling into pathetically unrequited love with my own damn husband.

But there seemed to be no way to stop it.

I loved his grumpy, I-will-fight-the-world method of doing his chores. I loved the way he spent hours reading medical books about pregnancy and childbirth on my comms tablet every night, his eyes calm, pink, but laser-focused. I loved when his eyes went white, too, giving me a little glimpse into the totality of whatever that man was feeling, even if he never seemed inclined to put those feelings into words. I loved the way that, even though my hands and back were all healed up, he still insisted on putting the salve on me twice a day, every day.

I loved the way he supervised shuttle deliveries of medical equipment to the property, watching the Zabrian pilot unload with his imperious gaze. It was a collection of equipment he had curated himself, ordered by the warden.

For me. And for other people one day, too.

But, for now…

Just for me.

I loved that.

And I loved the fact that, after more than a week living with a literal convicted murderer, I felt safer than I ever had in my life.

But the more the love for all these facets of Zohro and my life here grew, so too did the pain. And boy oh fucking boy, did that shit hurt.

Or maybe that was just the fact that I was extremely fucking pregnant right now. And everything else hurt, too. My hips. My back. My butt. All of it.

One relief – at least for the physical pain – was bathing in the tub in Zohro’s operating theatre, which I had now dubbed the Surgery Shed. Every night before bed I drew myself a bath, using the heated water spray meant for hosing down the animals and floor to fill the tub. And every night, Zohro tested the water temperature with an honest-to-goodness thermometer to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

“We’ve been doing this every night for the past ten nights,” I told him when he yet again checked the water temperature of the tub. “I think I know how to fill it up without cooking Baby Girl by now.”

“I know,” he said distractedly, reading the thermometer and then flicking his tail in approval. “But I’m going to keep checking anyway.”

“So the temperature is good? Just like I knew it would be?” I asked.

“It is within an acceptable range. Proceed.”

“Thank you very much,” I said half sweet, half sarcastic. He really was being an annoyingly over-the-top dope with this stuff.

But at the same time…

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