Page 24 of Bigfoot's Wife

“Anyhow, I’m sorry for freaking out and storming off like that," Bambi says, her repentant voice barely above a whisper. "It wasn't right. I guess I’m still a little unstable, slow to trust, triggered sometimes by seemingly innocuous things. But I'll try not to fly off the handle like that next time I'm triggered, and...”

She pauses, taking a shaky breath and blowing it out slowly. "If you're still willing, I'm willing to give my all to this mate thing."

My heart soars. Did I just hear what I think I heard?

"Do you still want me to be your mate?" she asks, her voice small and vulnerable. “Even though I’m sometimes really stupid?"

"No," I blurt out.

Her face falls.

"I mean yes! Yes to being my mate. No to you being stupid. You're not stupid. Ever.” I reach out, gently taking her hand in mine. "I read that file. I hate every one of those assholes who made you out to be the villain. If I could, I'd go up there and grind every one of those motherfuckers to dust."

To demonstrate, I smash my fist down on my stein again and again, grinding it to powder.

“Goddammit,” Huw's voice echoes from the back, "Not a frickin' nuther one. You drunk assholes need to quit smashing my stuff."

Bambi laughs, the sound like music to my ears. She leans in and pulls me closer, peppering a gentle kiss on my lips. "Hey, I got an idea. What do you say you and I go back to your cave and have makeup sex?"

"No," I blurt out.

Her face falls.

"I mean yes! Yes to makeup sex. No tomycave. It’sourcave now."

EPILOGUE OLWYDD

Our kitchen looks like a war zone. And not the cool kind with heroic Squatches defending Grotto from invaders. Nope, this is more like the aftermath of a food fight between a bunch of sugar-high grade schoolers.

There's flour everywhere—on the counters, the floor, the walls. How did it get on the ceiling? I'm afraid to ask. Eggshells crunch under my feet as I survey the damage, and something sticky drips down the cabinet doors.

In the middle of this culinary carnage stands my beautiful mate looking like a frustrated goddess with flour dusting the tip of her nose and a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. She's got her hands on her hips, eyeing the disaster around us with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"Alright, boys," she announces, clapping her hands together. “You’re doing great."

She has the patience of a saint. She’s giving me and our nephews cooking lessons and we've been at it for hours. So far, the only thing we've successfully made is a mess.

“Aunt Bambi, is the stove supposed to make that noise?" Jac's innocent question sends a chill down my spine.

I whip around to see smoke billowing from the oven. "Sweet mother of—" I cut myself off, remembering little ears are present. "Everyone back!"

As I frantically wave my arms to disperse the smoke, I catch Bambi's eye. She's trying hard not to laugh, but I can see the mirth dancing in her eyes and I can’t even be upset. I’m too smitten by her to be upset.

"Maybe we should try salads next,” Bambi suggests, her lips twitching.

I puff out my chest. "We Sasquatch men are master hunters. Surely we can conquer a simple casserole."

Osian snorts. "Yeah, because hunting a deer is totally the same as not burning pasta."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Watch it, smarty-pants. I'll have you know I'm an excellent...uh...burner of things."

Bambi loses her battle with laughter, doubling over and clutching her swollen belly. The sight of her, eyes crinkled with joy and hands cradling our future, makes my heart do a little jig. I’m the luckiest Squelch in Grotto.

"Aunt Bambi," Elis taps her shoulder, “a word of warning. When the baby comes, whatever you do, don't let Uncle Olwydd help with homework."

I gasp in mock outrage. "Hey! I resent that. I was a great help with your homework."

Bambi shoots me a look.

---