Page 6 of Guarded By the Bigfoot
Hours. Perfect. I reached for my phone, but of course it wasn’t there. “I need to contact headquarters. I need to get to the outpost. I?—”
“The storm took out the communications. Roads are washed out too.” He crossed his arms. “Not to mention your car and all ofyour belongings went over a cliff. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”
The authority in his tone sparked something rebellious in me. “I appreciate the rescue, but I have a job to do.”
“Can wait until you’re not half-drowned.” His eyes narrowed. “Why did ARC send you up here?”
“That’s classified.” And I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.
He made a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “Everything’s classified with ARC.”
“Look...” I hesitated, realizing I didn’t know his name.
“Brock,” he supplied.
“Brock.”
Of course, the mountain-sized Guardian had a mountain-sized name.
“I’m grateful for the help, really. But I need to get back to work. Maybe there’s an inn in town?—”
“The inn’s full. Wild Moon.”
He moved closer, and something electric crackled in the air between us.
“It’s only Tuesday.”
“The celebration starts early near the Veil,” he said. “You can stay here until the roads are clear.”
I should’ve felt threatened. He was enormous, powerful, and I was essentially trapped in his territory.
But something about him felt... safe. Like I could trust him, even though every bit of my training screamed otherwise.
“I’m Parker,” I found myself saying. “Parker Woods.”
Something flickered in those piercing eyes. “I know.”
Right. My badge. Wonderful. “Have you noticed anything unusual lately?”
“Besides finding an ARC agent in my forest?” His mouth quirked. “Nothing worth reporting.”
He was lying. I’d interviewed enough suspects to know when someone was holding back information. Add “terrible liar” to the list of surprising Bigfoot traits. But pushing him now wouldn’t help. I needed to play this smart, gather intel while I could.
“The soup’s getting cold,” he said, nodding toward the tray.
My stomach growled again, loud enough that his ears twitched. Heat crept up my neck as I reached for the bowl. Real professional, Parker. The first spoonful was heaven, rich broth, tender vegetables, and something that made warmth spread through my entire body.
“Magic food.” I eyed him over the rim of the bowl. “Against regs while on duty.”
A rumbling chuckle rolled over me. “You’re off the clock.” Brock settled back, posture relaxed but that molten gaze intent. “Indulge.”
His words prickled my skin. I took another spoonful, dodging those scorching eyes as rich flavors burst over my tongue.
“Now.” That low rumble commanded my attention. “Why are you here?”
The way he said it, low and intense, sent a shiver down my spine. Or maybe the way he looked at me did, eyes gleaming with primal intensity.
“Routine investigation,” I replied, arching a brow.
