Claimed by the Alien Bodyguard - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,17

best one.”

The corner of Broxen’s mouth quirked up. The bear-shaped cookie was decorated in white icing with blue eyes of two different sizes, a crooked smile, and what must’ve been a red scarf around its neck. It was the strangest bear he’d ever seen, but it was charming…and no one had ever made anything like this, just for him.

“Thank you,” he said, meeting Ana’s gaze. “I like bears. And this one is the best.”

If possible, her smile only grew wider.

“So, are you going to be Mom’s boyfriend?” she asked.

Damn, this kit was right to the point.

Yet he couldn’t deny a rumbling of irritation. He knew how that word, boyfriend, was commonly used, and he understood what it meant to humans, but he didn’t care for it. Nothing about him was boyish; he was a full-grown, powerful male who would do all he could to protect his female. And he longed to be far more than friends with Gabriela. Mate was the more fitting word. The right word.

Broxen grunted and shrugged with one shoulder. “Hopefully.”

She turned her head to the side slightly and narrowed her eyes. “You won’t hurt her, right?”

“Never.”

Ana nodded. “My dad hurt her, but he’s not really my dad. He left when I was in Mom’s belly. He didn’t want us.”

Broxen frowned, eyebrows falling low. “You’re better off without that kind of male in your life. You and your mother are the best. Even better than this bear cookie.”

She smiled again. “That is the best cookie, and she is the best mom.” Dipping her head, she slid a foot forward, grinding the toe of her boot on the ground. “And…I think you’d make a good dad. Cause you’re nice, and you helped fixed my bike. And dads do that stuff, right, Mr. Lee?”

“I…”

Ana’s words hit him harder than he could ever have guessed they would. The trust in her expression, the rawness of what she’d said, the hopefulness behind it… How could he ever respond to all that? He didn’t know what it meant to be a father, and he definitely didn’t know how to be a good one. He didn’t even know where things would go between himself and Gabriela from this point.

But he knew what he wanted. He wanted Gabriela in his life. He wanted Ana in his life. And he couldn’t deny, as foolish as it might have been, that he was as hopeful for that as Ana.

Keeping the plate of cookies balanced on his palm, he sank into a crouch, putting him closer to Ana’s eye level. “Whatever happens, Ana, I’m going to look out for you and your mom. I promise I’ll keep you both safe.”

Those big brown eyes, so much like her mother’s, met his. “Truly?”

Broxen nodded. “Truly. And any time your bike breaks, just come to me. I’ll help.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lee.”

“Call me Brox—” He snapped his mouth shut, cutting himself off before he could stupidly utter that name. “Mason. Not Mr. Lee, okay?”

Ana beamed at him. “Okay.”

“It’s late. You should get home, and I have cookies to eat. Thank your mom for me.”

“I will.”

She stepped back, hesitated for a moment, then ran forward, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him. The embrace was over before Broxen could register what she had done, leaving him to stare after her in stunned silence as she ran toward her house.

As she reached the end of his walkway, Ana turned and waved. “Good night, Mason. See you tomorrow!”

Broxen lifted his hand and waved back. He stood upright and watched as she raced across the road and back to her home, his heart thumping a little louder, a little faster, as she reached her front door. He held his breath, hoping for a glimpse of Gabriela when Ana threw the door open and darted inside.

“Mom, Mom,” Ana shouted, and then the door slammed shut behind her.

Blowing out the breath he’d been holding, Broxen stepped back and closed his own door, though he did so softly. He couldn’t ignore the ridiculousness of this situation—that he was so crushed, so disappointed, to have missed out on seeing Gabriela for what wouldn’t have been more than a second or two.

Zorak akai, those romance books and romantic comedy movies were beginning to make sense. This was what the humans called falling hard.

But he wondered if that was the right term as he carried the plate of cookies to the table and placed it down in the same spot his microwaved dinner had occupied minutes before. Falls usually