Page 8 of Bigfoot's Bride

"Is everything okay out there?" Bambi asks. "It sounded intense."

Enfys does this shuffling thing with her feet, not meeting our eyes. "It's nothing to worry about. Just a small...disagreement." It’s the first time I’ve heard her speak—the first time I’ve heard any Sasquatch speak and her voice is low and sensual like crushed gravel.

She catches her bottom lip between her fanged teeth, her face creased in worry. "You know, it might be best if we postpone the tour of Grotto until tomorrow. You all must be exhausted from your journey."

"Are we in any danger?" Steph asks, a note of panic in her voice. “Do we need to remain in here for protection?”

Enfys's eyes go wide and she shakes her head emphatically. "No, no, not at all! You're free to come and go as you please. It's just..." She hesitates, then seems to deflate a bit. "Some of the Sasquatch are a bit...apprehensive about humans being here. But I assure you, you're in no danger. No one would ever dream of harming you."

I raise an eyebrow. Apprehensive? Sounds more like an angry mob out there.

Enfys has the decency to look chagrined. "I apologize. This is all very new for us as well. But please, don't let it trouble you. Get some rest and we'll regroup in the morning, hmm?"

And with that, she's out the door, leaving us standing there blinking in her wake.

Well then. Welcome to Grotto, I guess.

Deciding to take Enfys's advice to "not let it trouble us," we disperse and start exploring our new digs.

I poke my head into the bathroom and have to do a double take. This is no rustic, outhouse setup. The shower could comfortably fit a football team and there are more buttons and doodads than a NASA control panel. It's like the Starship Enterprise and the Ritz-Carlton had a bathroom baby.

As I gape at the space-age commode, a little traitorous part of my brain whispers that maybe, just maybe, hiding out down here for a month won't be so bad. I could lay low, enjoy the experience, maybe even do a dry run of this whole "interspecies romance" thing. Again, my mind drifts to that handsome Sasquatch with the bouquet.

Wait...Handsome?Did I just think of a hairy monster as handsome?!

What is wrong with me?

The point is, this isn’t so bad. I’m safe here, at least. And it’s temporary. Besides, it’s better accommodations than the last seedy motel.

Still, I pray for a miracle. I just want to go back to being me again, back where I belong sashaying down red carpets and smiling for flashing cameras and fawning fans. (Louboutins and designer shades, I miss you!)

My fondest wish is to be able to give Maria Garcia the boot and let Kiki Karaprtyan reclaim her rightful place as the queen of the glitz and glam social scene.

Maybe. Someday.

I flop on my surprisingly plush fur-covered bed and try to will my overstimulated brain to sleep. But even as I try to drift off, a certain earthy, pine and fresh rain scent plagues my senses and I can't help but wonder what might have been if I had simply accepted those flowers graciously like a darn normal person.

Chapter 6

Gruffydd

I down the rest of my drink in one gulp, slide off the bar stool, and nearly faceplant on the stone floor.

Dammit, gravity strikes again.

I steady myself, swaying only slightly. The room spins a bit. Maybe that last quart was a mistake, but mercifully, my soulstone is quiet.

Taredd eyes me warily. "Where are you going?"

I blink, trying to get the room to hold still. "Home. To bed."

Olwydd smirks. "Alone?"

I glower at him.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, no judgment."

I snarl menacingly and he shrinks. Furry-ass bitch boy.

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