Page 2 of Bigfoot's Bride

"Hold on," Johnson barks, and stomps on the accelerator.

What follows is a harrowing game of cat and mouse that has me clinging to my seat, eyes squeezed shut. I hear honks, screeching tires, and the occasional metallic crunch that I can only pray isn't our bumper.

After what feels like an eternity, the car lurches to a stop. I crack one eye open. We're in a dark, deserted alley, the black SUV is nowhere in sight.

"Out," Johnson orders, already opening his door.

On shaky legs, I’m dragged down the alley to a waiting vehicle. It's a hulking, nondescript thing that looks suspiciously like a prison transport van. Johnson wrenches the van's rear doors open and practically shoves me inside. I collapse on the van's floor, my chest heaving. It’s not until he slams the doors shut that I notice I’m not alone.

There are four other women in this van. Four sets of eyes. And they’re all staring down at me.

Chapter 2

Gruffydd

My eyes roam over Eden surveying the lush, verdant scene before me. My pride and joy. Carefully, I finish pruning the honeysuckle vines that have started to encroach on the begonias. The sweet, heady scent fills the air, and I inhale deeply. Nothing quite like the fruits of your own labor.

As I work, my mind drifts to the big event happening today. A handful of human women are arriving—the first of the MfM candidates—and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bundle of nerves. I mean, it's not every day a guy gets the chance to meet his potential soulmate.

I pause, my gaze falling on a particularly stunning bunch of lilies. Perfect. I gather them up, along with some sprigs of lavender and a few rosebuds, arranging them into a bouquet. If my soulstone does sing today, I want to be prepared.

Bouquet in hand, I make my way to Taps. The guys are already there. As I approach, snatches of their conversation reach my ears.

"I'm telling you, my biceps have never looked better. Lookit these babies. The ladies won't be able to resist." That's Olwydd, always a showoff.

"Please. It's not just about muscles. A Squatch needs charm, wit, finesse." Dafydd, pipes up.

I slide onto a bar stool, setting the bouquet down. "What's this about charm and wit?"

Taredd grins. "Dafydd was just educating Olwydd here on the finer points of impressing females."

I shrug. “He might be right. I heard females like males who show a sensitive side.”

"Sensitive?" Olwydd flexes his impressive biceps again. "These babies are all the sensitivity I need."

We all respond with huffs, snort-laughs, or eye rolls. These guys, they're more than just my friends. They're like brothers. We've been through a lot together.

"You think they'll like us?" Taredd nervously fluffs his fur with his fingers. "I mean, our appearance...We don’t exactly...Um, we’re not...Uh...What they’re used to."

“We don’t look like naked mole rats, you mean?” Wmffre leans up against the wall, his arms crossed and a nasty grimace on his face.

Olwydd shoots him a death glare before reassuring Taredd. "Of course they will. We're fun, smart, and our technological capabilities here at Grotto are far more advanced than anything they have.”

I nod in agreement—trying to convince myself as much as them. “And we’ve got awesome biceps. What's not to like?"

"I just worry," Taredd says, leaning forward. "About, you know, physically. You really think it’s possible? I mean, we are a good bit larger than the average human male."

"The researchers say we're compatible," Olwydd chimes in.

"I just hope they don't freak out too much," Dafydd says, voicing my own concerns.

"They will," Wmffre grumbles from the corner. He's been against this whole human integration thing from the start. "Mark my words, those humans are vile. Evil, heartless creatures. They’ll cause nothing but trouble for our kind. There’s a reason we’ve chosen to live concealed and secluded for generations. They can't be trusted. This ridiculous program is putting us all in danger."

I bristle at his words, even though I know they come from a place of fear and pain. Wmffre has his reasons for distrusting humans, and none of us blame him. But our custodian assures us there are some good, kind human females out there who could learn to love us.

"Come on, Wmffre." I keep my tone light, hoping to soothe him. “Let's give them a chance. Who knows, maybe you'll be surprised. This mate matching algorithm we picked up is genius and we were able to tweak it to find specific human females, those with a high probability of being open to remaining here with us indefinitely.”

“Backed into a corner and desperate, you mean?” Wmffre scoffs. “Now there’s a recipe for a successful mating.” He shoots scathing glowers at each of us in turn before grunting and stomping off, clearly not in the right headspace to be receptive to optimism.

---