Page 45 of Bigfoot Boss
“Bailey.” I breathe out her name.
My mom beams and, before I can stop her, scoops Bailey into a tight squeeze that briefly lifts Bailey’s toes from the ground. “So great to meet you. I’ve always wanted a daughter! I can’t believe my son was going to hide you from us.”
“I wasn’t hiding her, Mom.”
“Look at her! Look at you! She’s perfect! You are gorgeous, honey! What’s your name?”
“Bay. Bailey, really, but you can just call me Bay, if you want.” My mate’s eyes dart wildly from me to my mother and back again. There’s a small amount of water welling up in her eyes. I step in before she can truly panic.
“Bay, this is my mom, Yvette, and my dad, Abe.” My heart is racing. It feels vital for everyone to get along.
My dad moves the bloody elk carcass to his empty hand and extends a distinctively red palm for Bay to shake.
I start to intervene, but Bay is already taking his grip and giving my father’s hand a firm shake. Abe smiles at her enthusiastically, showing far too many sharp predator teeth. “Are you staying for dinner? Do you like elk?”
Bailey, to her credit, smiles and gives a nonchalant shrug. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had it before, sir.”
“Sir. Ha! Did you hear that Yvette? I’m a sir now!” Dad pounds his chest with his empty fist. “A respectable male, just like my boy.”
“Maybe we should get out of your hair?” I target the question at my parents, but keep my eyes firmly on Bailey. She glances at her hand and inconspicuously swipes at the smear of blood my father left on her palm. “I can call our ride back earlier.”
“Nonsense! You came all the way out here to have a nice weekend. Don’t let us get in the way! You two just do whatever you were going to do, like we aren’t even here.” My mom waves her hand through the air dismissively.
Bay’s bright blue eyes meet mine as she gives me a small shrug. “We could stay, if you want? The helicopter will be here tomorrow, no matter what?”
I nod hesitantly. I don’t want her to feel pressured to stay here with my parents, who do not hide their monster behaviors like I’ve grown accustomed to doing.
They never even attempted to integrate with humans, preferring to adopt only the parts of civilized society that suit their lifestyles. Things like hot water from a tap and fancy meat smokers were an easy sell. Other things, like modesty, and table manners are far less popular with most cryptids.
“Helicopter?” My dad shakes his head. “This boy used to spend afternoons chopping wood to keep warm, and now he’s riding in helicopters. Can you believe it?!”
“We are so proud of him,” Mom tells Bailey, before shooing her mate toward the door, “Abe, you are dripping on the floor. Sacha, take your father outside and convince him to wash up before he makes more of a mess.”
“She’s just trying to get you alone and pry for information about your relationship.” Dad leans conspiratorially toward Bailey, who thankfully grins.
“Don’t tell the girl that! Now I won’t get anything useful out of her!” Mom scowls.
Dad leans over and presses a kiss to his mate’s cheek, erasing her disgruntled expression before she pushes him playfully away. Bailey catches my gaze before bashfully turning her eyes to the ground.
“Really though, Sacha never tells us anything about his life, and I need to know everything about you. Where did you two meet? How long have you been together?”
“Mom, please,” I interject, “Bailey isn’t here to be interrogated?—”
“It’s new.” Bailey cuts me off, stepping to my side and slipping her hand into mine.
My mom smiles slyly. “See? Don’t worry Sacha, I’m not going to scare the woman off.”
Dad barks out a laugh. “Yes, we’ll limit the childhood stories to the least embarrassing ones.”
“Actually, I can probably help with the smoker if you want.” Bailey steps past me toward the door. “I worked in a barbecue restaurant in college, so I know a bit about them.”
Abe flashes me another sharp-toothed grin. “I knew I liked her! Smart cookie. Come with me, Bay! You can help me load up the smoker.”
He waves a hand for her to follow him, and with one short glance back to me, Bailey follows him outside.
I hurry to put on actual clothing before racing outside to stop my parents from scaring my skittish little doe. My father has his smoker set up in a clearing behind the cabin, far from the tree line. My mom fills poor Bailey’s ears with embarrassing stories from my youth, while my father details the advantages of hickory versus oak for smoking.
I’m worried their enthusiasm will be too much for her, but my mate laughs while she listens, and when I step beside her she slips her hand into mine, granting me her beautiful smile. My parents fill her ears with all the cringe-inducing moments of my childhood: how I almost broke my arm jumping from the roof with homemade wings, the way I was obsessed with human society, and the entire year I spent refusing to eat any green food so that my mom had to burn every vegetable before she put it on my plate.
