Page 6 of Bigfoot's Wife

"Are you our new teacher?"

"I sure am," I grin. "I'm Miss Bambi. I'll be your teacher for today. If we all survive, maybe I'll stick around."

They cheer, and my heart swells. I'd forgotten how good this feels, being surrounded by the unbridled enthusiasm of children. It's like a balm, chipping away at the pain and self-doubt I’ve accumulated over the past few years.

As I bask in the glow of childish adoration, a familiar scent wafts through the air. Musky, woodsy, with a hint of... cinnamon.

Oh, no. Why here? Why now?

My stomach does a little flip when I glance to the doorway and spot Olwydd standing there, all big and sexy and impressive.

Sexy?! Stop that, Bambi! He’s not sexy!

Well, he is, but I have no business noticing.

And yet... There's something about him. Maybe it's his gregarious personality, or those biceps that look like they could crush boulders. Whatever it is, it's got my inner damsel going all kinds of swoony.

Sporting his trademark crooked, cocky grin that shows just the tips of his fangs, Olwydd doesn’t take his eyes off me as he saunters over with his hand awkwardly placed over his groin. What’s that about?

Olwydd sidles up, still grinning like he's won the lottery. "Hey there, beautiful. Fancy meeting you here."

I smile shyly, and damn if my traitorous eyes don’t travel down to his cupped hand. Wait, is he...is he glowing down there? And what’s that faint humming noise?

Before I can further ponder the mysteries of Sasquatch anatomy, three furry whirlwinds zoom past Olwydd and crash into me.

“Are you a new teacher?" the oldest one exclaims.

I chuckle. "That's right. And who might you be?"

He puffs out his chest. "I'm Osian, and these are my brothers, Elis and Jac. We're the toughest Squatch kids in Grotto!"

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Tough enough to tackle long division?"

The pride in Olwydd’s face is evident and I wonder…

Could he be married?

Are these his kids? He’s definitely been flirting with me almost since I arrived. It's not my imagination, Steph’s mentioned it too—frequently. My blood runs cold. What if he has a wife? Has he been playing me? Is he nothing more than a cheating, backstabbing, two-faced, hoe-bag?

I feel my face heat, chest tighten, and my breathing shallow.

“Are these your children?” I blurt out, on the edge of hysteria.

Olwydd must notice my near panic attack level distress because his eyes grow round and his mouth opens to respond, but before he can speak, the youngest pipes up, "He's our uncle! The best uncle ever!"

“Uncle,” I mumble. He’s they’re uncle.Of course he is, Bambi you drama queen.

Olwydd practically preens under the praise. "Well, I don't like to brag, but I am pretty awesome. Strong, smart, great with kids... you know, perfect mate material."

There's that word.Mate.He’s used the word with me before. Why does it always send tingles shooting through my veins?

"I'll take that under advisement," I say dryly. "Now, it’s about time for class to begin, so you’ll have to say your goodbyes to the boys."

Olwydd laughs, a deep, rumbling sound that does funny things to my insides. "Alright, alright. But first, how about having dinner with me tonight?"

Part of me wants to say yes. Olwydd’s charming, magnetic and attentive—overly attentive. But the cynical voice in my head, the one that sounds suspiciously like the media vultures who tore me apart, is louder.

Still, he looks so hopeful. So far, in our interactions, while charming and attentive, Olwydd has also come off as vain, arrogant, show-offy, and braggadocios. Looking into his eyes right now, I’m inclined to think that’s all an act because what I see is…vulnerability. Which is why I’m hesitant to shut him down completely.

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