Page 3 of Guarded By the Bigfoot (Mystic Ridge Monster Mates #1)

PARKER

W armth was the first thing I noticed. Not the bitter chill of the storm, but a gentle, encompassing heat that seemed to wrap around me like a cocoon.

My ARC training kicked in before I opened my eyes: assess, analyze, survive.

The crackle of a fire. The scent of wood smoke and autumn spices.

Soft fabric beneath my fingers. A magical rhythm in the air that made my skin tingle.

I cracked one eye open, then the other. A stone fireplace dominated the wall ahead of me, its dancing flames casting flickering shadows across rough-hewn timber beams. I was sprawled on what had to be the world’s most comfortable couch, buried under what felt like a dozen quilts.

Each one radiated a subtle warmth that went beyond normal fabric, definitely enchanted.

My head throbbed as I tried to piece together how I’d gotten here. The storm. The crash. Walking through the rain-soaked forest that felt endless. Then... nothing.

Pushing myself up to sitting, I noticed I wasn’t wearing my own clothes anymore.

Instead, I had on what looked like a man’s flannel shirt that could’ve doubled as a dress on me, and thick wool socks that swallowed my legs.

My cheeks heated at the implication, but a quick check confirmed I still had on my own underlayers. Small mercies.

My clothes were folded neatly on a nearby table, my badge placed carefully on top. Seeing it there made my stomach clench. Whoever had rescued me knew exactly who I was.

The room itself was extraordinary. Despite my apprehension, I couldn’t help but stare.

Rough stone walls stretched up to exposed beams, where delicate orbs of golden light floated like captured stars.

A huge oak tree grew right through one corner of the room, its branches twining with the ceiling beams, decorated with fragments of rainbows and living crystals that chimed softly in a breeze I couldn’t feel.

The whole place radiated magic, old magic, deep and pure.

“You’re finally awake.”

The voice rumbled through the room like distant thunder, and I whipped around so fast my head spun. Then I forgot how to breathe.

He filled the entire doorway, all eight feet of him.

Broad shoulders that could’ve blocked out the sun.

Arms thick with muscle. Golden-brown fur that looked softer than it had any right to.

But it was his eyes that caught me. They glowed like molten gold, the unmistakable trait of the Guardian, and they were fixed on me with an intensity that made my pulse skip.

A Bigfoot. Well, shit.

I’d dealt with plenty of supernatural creatures in my time with ARC, but never the Guardian.

He was notorious for avoiding human contact, protecting his territory with fierce dedication.

The fact that I was here, in what had to be his private sanctuary.

.. Great job, Parker. Special assignment from the Director and you crash-land in Bigfoot’s living room.

“Where am I?” I managed, proud that my voice came out steady.

He moved into the room with surprising grace for someone his size, carrying a tray that steamed with what smelled like heaven itself. “Safe,” he said. “You collapsed in the storm. I brought you here.”

“Here being...?”

“My home.” He set the tray on the table and grabbed a mug of something hot for himself. “You should eat something. The fae’s healing potion works better with food.”

Fae healing. Because this situation wasn’t complicated enough already. I eyed the soup warily, my training warring with my growling stomach.

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, and was that amusement in his voice? “Though Finn’s cooking sometimes makes me wonder.”

“Finn?”

“The fae who made it. He and his wife run the café in town.” He paused, studying me. “You really should eat. You’ve been out for a few hours.”

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 of your 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.

He shook his head. “Try again.”

“Because something’s clearly wrong with the Veil,” I said. “The magic’s... oh, I don’t know, let’s say ‘different.’ Unsettled, perhaps? You know nothing about this, right?”

He studied me for a long moment, like he was weighing how much to reveal.

“Here’s the thing, Agent Woods. You’re in Guardian territory now.

My territory. And something’s been stirring up trouble in these woods.

Something that has everyone spooked and the wards flickering.

So, if ARC wants to know what it is, they. ..”

Oh, this is just great. Territorial Guardian and suspicious. My lucky day keeps getting better. “They should send someone to investigate?”

His eyes narrowed, but I held his gaze. After a long moment, he sat back. “Finish your soup.”

I wanted to argue, but the warm food was making my eyes heavy again. “I’m not staying here forever,” I warned, even as I sank deeper into the couch.

“No,” he agreed softly. “But you’re staying tonight.”

Something in his tone made my heart flutter. I blamed it on the strange-looking herbs floating in the soup. “Fine. But tomorrow will you take me to the Veil and?—”

“Tomorrow we’ll see what the storm left behind.” He stood, his frame blocking out the firelight for a moment. “Rest, Parker Woods. You’re safe here.”

As he moved toward the door, I found myself watching him go, struck by the grace in his movements and the way the lights played across his fur. He paused at the threshold, glancing back at me with those eyes.

“Welcome to the mountain,” he said, and then he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts, my soup, and the distinct feeling that I was in way over my head.

I sank back into the cushions, trying to sort through everything.

The crash, the rescue, the magnetic pull I felt toward a creature I should’ve been wary of.

This is ridiculous. I’m here to do a job, not moon over a Bigfoot who happens to be both literally and figuratively the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.

Even if he did make drinking coffee look unfairly attractive for someone with fangs.

Focus, Parker. Focus.