Page 11 of Bigfoot's Bride

Chapter 8

Gruffydd

I'm floating in a blissful haze, the warm water loosening my muscles, when suddenly my soulstone starts humming, then vibrating, then full-on singing like it's auditioning for Sasquatch Idol.

What the...? I crack open an eye, peering down at the glowing red beacon between my legs. Maybe it’s defective.I’mdefective. Maybe I don’t have a fated mate and the beautiful creature, Maria Garcia, is not my mate at all.

I'm debating the possibility of an anatomical malfunction when an irresistible aroma hits me like a punch to the gut. Daffodils, crocuses, tulips, and hyacinth—the scent of springtime. My nostrils flare, drinking it in.

No way. It can't be.

I whip my head around so fast I nearly give myself whiplash. And there she is. Standing just inside the entrance looking like a deer caught in headlights.

She's even more beautiful than I remember. Those big brown eyes, those luscious curves. My brain short-circuits, leaving me gaping like a slack-jawed idiot.

Her eyes widen, and I brace myself for the earsplitting scream that’s sure to come.

Say something, you big, hairy buffoon. Say something.

My mouth opens. Words tumble out.

"Please don't scream."

Chapter 9

Kiki

His voice rumbles through me like a drug eliciting a delicious shiver. Goosebumps rise on my flesh. I have to concentrate just to keep breathing. That voice should come with a warning label: caution, extreme panty-dampening, low, raspy growl ahead.

He stares at me with those deep, soulful eyes, looking all kinds of apprehensive, and...wait, what’d he say?Please don't scream?

Ugh! Again, I feel like such a bitch. This gorgeous giant went out of his way to present me with flowers, and I repaid him by nearly rupturing his eardrums.

I clear my throat, trying to find my voice. "I really am sorry. I was just caught off guard, is all. I wasn't expecting...well, any of this."

I gesture vaguely around us, at the glowing cave, the steaming pool, and of course, at his large, muscular, furry self.

I wince, guilt twisting my insides into a pretzel. "I'm so sorry about the screaming. That was incredibly rude of me."

He blinks like he can't quite process the fact that I'm apologizing instead of trying to summon the banshees again.

He is magnificent. And his fur doesn’t look at all coarse and wiry like I might have imagined. It looks silky. I have the sudden urge to run my fingers through it to see if it's as soft as it looks.

My gaze drifts lower, to where the water laps at his torso, and I can't help but wonder what's going on beneath the surface there. There’s a red glow near his groin area. I mean, how does Sasquatch anatomy even work? Is it like a human's or...

I mentally slap myself.Stop ogling him like he’s a piece of meat.

I force my eyes back to his face. It looks almost human. Almost. A human with a thick mustache and beard. But it's his eyes that really slay me. Right now, they're swimming with wariness. Like he's half-expecting me to start shrieking again.

"I understand," he says, his voice a soothing rumble. "This must all be very strange for you."

Strange doesn't even begin to cover it, buddy. We're in uncharted territory here, off the map and into the wild blue yonder of bizarre.

He gestures to the pool. "Please, join me, Maria. The water's very soothing."

I hesitate, eyeing the steaming water with longing. A nice, relaxing soak does sound heavenly right now. Should I have some kind of warning bells going off in my head? Red flags waving frantically? Cause I got nada. Zip. Zilch.

I shrug and find myself saying, “Well, when in Grotto, right?”

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