The Rapunzel Rodeo Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  The Rapunzel Rodeo

  Fated Mate Speed Date, Book 2

  Sable Sylvan

  Sable Sylvan

  Copyright © 2018 by Sable Sylvan/Heather Davies

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  The Rapunzel Rodeo

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peek: “The Sleeping Beauty Pageant”

  About the Author

  The Rapunzel Rodeo

  Sign up for my email list and become the first to know about new releases, discounts, and mailing list exclusive freebies: http://tinyurl.com/SableSylvanEmailList

  Curvy seamstress Olivia Larson likes three things: costumes, horses, family. She isn't looking to add anything to that list, especially not three more things in the form of cowboy shifters. The last thing she needs is some werehorses getting in the way of her charity rodeo, but apparently, the trio of Matt, Richard, and Jason is up to that challenge. Fallowedirt isn't a one-horse town anymore. The only question is, will this Rapunzel let down her emotional walls and learn to let down her hair, or will she look her gift horses in the mouth?

  Olivia's not looking for love. She's just looking to help raise money for the local library by helping out at the Fallowedirt Rodeo. When the three dominant werestallions she let herself fall for cause a huge mess for her to clean up, she's not about to let herself be fooled twice by her own heart. A leopard can't change its spots, but can these stallion shifters become horses of a different color? She's going to need to see proof that they're not just stuffing horse crap in a Trojan horse…and that's straight from the horse's mouth. Otherwise, how will Olivia know if she's betting on the wrong horses?

  You can lead a horse to his fated mate, but you can't make him menage. Matt, Richard, and Jason can't get along during the day at the McCarthy Dude Ranch, where they all work putting their shifts to good use. The last thing they need is another thing to fight over, but Olivia's not just any 'thing': she's a full-bodied, sassy woman with curves that they each think they deserve. The only question is, will these three men stop horsing around, get off their high horses, and finally get down to the business of winning back their mate? Or are they trying to close the stable door after the horses have already bolted?

  Chapter One

  “Run this by me again,” said Olivia Larson, leaning back against the door to the stable as Cayenne ‘Kai’ Quincy-Scoville brushed her horse. Olivia’d gotten distracted by the hypnotic motions of Cayenne brushing the horse. Flakes of mud, caked on from her practice ride at the Fallowedirt Rodeo’s obstacle course, came off as Cayenne firmly but gently ran a mud brush over the horse’s coat. A metal curry comb would be too harsh for the coat of the horse during the summer months, so Cayenne used a brush with hard bristles instead. Each motion revealed more of the mare’s beautiful dun coat.

  “Okay, you remember how my mom’s mom, Grandma Quiggly, met my husband’s grandpa, Grandpa Morten Scoville?” asked Cayenne.

  “Yeah, at your wedding,” Olivia said. “That thing was crazy.”

  “Uhm, that ‘thing’ was the biggest event this town has ever seen,” said Cayenne, putting away the mud brush to get out a rubber comb, a curry comb that was suited for the summer months. “Anywho, those two met and fell in love at the wedding. Didn’t take’m long to find out they were meant to be together.”

  “Your grandma is Grandpa Scoville’s ‘fated mate’ or whatever, right?” asked Olivia.

  “Right,” Cayenne answered. She switched the rubber comb for a hard-bristled dandy brush. The brush pulled out the detritus that had been lifted up by the curry comb. Flakes of horse dander and dust filled the air and Olivia sneezed. “His mark had changed, and believe it or not, it had become the same mark that Basil had, before we learned we were fated mates. After that, Grandma Quiggly moved down here to Fallowedirt and of course, Grandpa Scoville came over from Norway. He left the company in the hands of the next generation, Basil’s father and his aunts and uncles. Then, they basically took over my restaurant.”

  “Took it over?” asked Olivia. “Oh, with this thing.”

  “This ‘thing’ is important to my grandma,” said Cayenne, using a special set of brushes on the horse’s face. The horse only needed a quick touch up as Cayenne groomed the horse regularly. “Will you go and fill a seat for me? It’d mean the world to me.”

  “You know I wouldn’t usually be caught dead at a speed dating event,” said Olivia. “Who needs that when online dating is already focused on hook-ups?”

  “It’s not that kind of speed dating,” Cayenne assured, switching to a set of tools used to give the horse’s coat a slight shine. “Only people that are looking for their life partner are allowed to go. That’s why it’s called ‘Fated Mate Speed Date.’ Plus, there’s free food...and drinks.”

  “Okay, look, once we’re done cleaning up here, I’ll check it out,” said Olivia. “But…no promises, okay?”

  “What if I told you that the famous bacon-wrapped scallops were going to be put out as an hors-d’oeuvre at the pre-event mixer?” asked Cayenne.

  “Ooh, you’re playing dirty, Kai,” Olivia accused. “You know better than to tempt me with bacon. Fine. I’m in.”

  “That’s what I frikkin’ thought,” said Cayenne. “You’ll have a blast, trust me.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to have a great time meeting strange men who want to find a wife. No pressure there,” Olivia said sarcastically.

  “Turn away for a second, I need to spray down Strand,” said Cayenne. Olivia turned, and Cayenne applied the fly spray, careful not to get it into Strand’s eyes, before making sure that there was nothing left she had to do for the horse, gathering her things, and heading out of the stables with Olivia.

  “Sorry that took so long,” Cayenne apologized. “I’m still not great at this.”

  “You seem like you’re taking to this like a duck to water,” said Olivia.

  “More like a horse to water,” said Cayenne. “And trust me, this horse needs a drink. I’m so nervous about the rodeo. It’s going to be my first time riding in public!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Olivia said. “With the dress I’m making you, you’ll look stunning.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” Cayenne admitted. “I’m worried about not nailing my routine. I’ve practiced with Strand all summer, but the people I’m competing with at dressage have been practicing for years. I love Strand like she’s my own horse, but I only got to start riding her this summer. She’s well-behaved, but not a dressage horse.”

  “You’re worried about not being the best in something for once?” asked Olivia, a hand on her hip, as she looked at her friend. “I’ve known you since what, middle school? You’ve always been like this. You worry and worry, and then, outshine everyone else. You’re a Type A overachiever, and I wouldn’t have y
ou any other way, but…maybe you need to relax a little.”

  “This is supposed to be my way of relaxing,” Cayenne said as they got into her SUV.

  “Then if you’re going to get better at anything, get better at chilling out,” said Olivia.

  “Only if you’ll work on getting out there and meeting more guys,” Cayenne shot back.

  “Oh, come on,” Olivia said. “You have to admit that you’re not exactly the picture of ‘normal,’ Kai. How many girls our age do you know that have a billionaire polar bear shifter husband, a successful restaurant, and run the town with a diamond-encrusted fist?”

  “Eww, okay, first, never call my hands ‘encrusted’ again, even if the crust is diamonds. Yuck. Secondly, I don’t expect you to do what I did. I just want you to start writing your own story, Olivia. You’re a successful seamstress…but maybe what you should be working on is weaving your fairytale happy ending,” said Cayenne.

  “Ugh, how long have you been sitting on that one?” asked Olivia. “Fine. I’ll go to the speed dating event, but I’m only going once.”

  “Once is all you’re going to need,” Cayenne said slyly.

  Cayenne pulled her SUV into the back of her restaurant and made Olivia get out of the car as soon as they got there, but Olivia followed Cayenne into the kitchen. She smelled something scrumptious, and she had an inkling it was those bacon-wrapped scallops.

  As Olivia piled up some scallops on a plate, she heard a familiar voice tut-tutting.

  “Now, Miss Larson, what would your grandmother say if she saw you stealing food from a family-owned restaurant?” asked a senior woman with a clipboard. “I don’t see your name on my list.”

  “Hi, Missus Quiggly,” Olivia said sheepishly, putting down the plate of scallops.

  “First off, you know I strongly prefer ‘Grandma Quiggly,’ and by ‘strongly prefer,’ I mean that if you call me ‘Missus’ again, I’m going to set my youngest granddaughter on you,” said Grandma Quiggly. “Even though Savina’s pregnant, she can take you down. Secondly, you are planning on paying for those scallops, now, aren’t you?”

  “Of course,” said Olivia, getting out her wallet. “How much is a plate of scallops?”

  “Thirty dollars, the same as the price for a ticket to Fated Mate Speed Date,” Grandma Quiggly stated firmly.

  “Thirty fuckin’ dollars for a plate of scallops?” asked Cayenne, who was busy plating the scallops onto a platter. “Grandma Quiggly!”

  “Now, Cayenne, I know I taught you better than to use your mouth to say such filthy words, and if it didn’t violate the health code, I’d be tanning your hide and scrubbing your mouth out with soap,” said Grandma Quiggly sharply. “Miss Larson, you wouldn’t try and rob a poor old woman of her money, now would you?”

  “No, ma’am,” said Olivia. She gave Grandma Quiggly two twenties and got a ten back in change…and a ticket to Fated Mate Speed Date. Grandma Quiggly shimmied away with her bright and shiny dollars to brag to Grandpa Scoville about beating him in ticket sales for the night.

  “Now do you see where I get it from?” asked Cayenne.

  “I feel like Persephone with the pomegranate,” said Olivia.

  “You calling my restaurant the Underworld?” asked Cayenne. “If this is Hell, I’d love to see what Heaven looks like.”

  “If it is Hell, I’m glad it has meat and not just fruit,” said Olivia.

  A loud bell rang, and Cayenne made Olivia get out of the kitchen and stand with the other singles who were ready to get a rundown of the rules.

  “Hello. Welcome to Fated Mate Speed Date,” said Grandpa Scoville. “This is our second week in operation and last week was a success, with many, many matches made. We’re always tweaking it and every week will be slightly different.”

  “The way our speed dating program works is simple,” said Grandma Quiggly. “You’ll spend thirty minutes with your partner and then, move on to the next table. You’ll get three speed dates. By attending, you are committing to give every partner an equal chance at getting to know you. If you find your true love here, you can’t just up and leave until you’ve given every last person a chance to plead their case about why they deserve to be with your fine self. Every week we swap who has to switch seats. This week, ladies, you’re the ones doing some cardio and switching seats when I ring my bell.” Grandma Quiggly rang her loud bell.

  “When you hear the bell, move to the next seat,” said Grandpa Scoville. “You’ll be moving in a clockwise direction. Leave your plates. We take care of swapping plates out between partners. At the end of the program, you’ll get a card to mark down which partners you were interested in. Any matches will have their phone numbers exchanged through our service. If you wish to have some extra help wooing your potential mate, you can use Grandma Quiggly’s matchmaking service, which will deliver a gift to your partner in person for sixty dollars.”

  “As usual, our waiters and waitresses will come around with meat for you to eat during your speed dates,” said Grandma Quiggly. “This week’s special is New York strip steak, served as rare as the great state of Texas will legally let us serve it. Of course, this wouldn’t be Fated Mate Speed Date without an open bar, so just put in a drink order with your waiter, and you’ll get your drinks delivered to your table.”

  “Remember, this is Fated Mate Speed Date,” said Grandpa Scoville. “If you are here, you have to be serious about finding a life partner, whether you’re a human or a shifter.”

  “Without further ado, let’s get this shindig started,” said Grandma Quiggly. “On the back of your ticket, you’ll find a number. That’s the table you’ll be starting at.”

  Olivia looked at the back of her ticket. There was a gold embossed number seven on the card. Apparently, Grandma Quiggly’s shakedown money was going toward fancy print jobs. As Olivia looked around for the table seven, she realized that seven might just be her lucky number.

  Tall with strapping arms underneath a flannel shirt, the man’s long black hair was in a wavy ponytail that wasn’t frizzy but had volume and body. He looked like a walking, talking commercial for shampoo and conditioner, and just looking at his hair from behind made her feel self-conscious about her hair, which was pinned up in her usual braid-bun, sensible and out of the way. At least he was dressed casually like she was.

  The man was standing, waiting, and a woman approached him…a woman that wasn’t Olivia.

  Olivia looked at her ticket and frowned. Her ticket did say 7. His table said 7. Was this some sort of threesome meet up? No way. Olivia wasn’t about that lifestyle.

  Olivia walked up to the table anyways.

  “Hey,” Olivia said.

  “Uhm, excuse me, we’re busy here,” said the other woman, a curvy gal with blonde hair cut into a severe bob that made her look like the kind of person that would want to talk to a manager over a latte order gone wrong. The handsome man looked over at Olivia, and for a split second, Olivia thought she saw his deep brown eyes glow amber from within.

  The man looked over Olivia from head to toe. His shift rumbled within, letting out a cry that the man matched with a primal sound of his own. He was telling his beast that he knew what it was saying and that he agreed…but that he’d have to manage the situation carefully to make sure he ended up with her and not the annoying woman.

  “I think you have the wrong table,” said Olivia.

  “Excuse me?” asked the woman again. “You’re obviously just trying to scomp my date, so, shoo. Bye. Go away.”

  The man looked at the two women and winked at Olivia.

  “I’m sure you must be right,” said the man, in a voice oozing with sarcasm. “Mind if I check your ticket?”

  “Ch-check my ticket?” stammered the woman. “I don’t know where it is, but I know it had this table’s number on it.”

  “And what number would that be?” asked the man.

  It was at that point Olivia realized the man had hidden the table sign while the woman was distracted by Oli
via.

  “Uhm…table number one, naturally, given you’re the number one guy in this place,” the woman answered.

  “Here,” said Olivia, passing the man her ticket. “Seven.”

  “Oh, look, we match,” the man said, pulling his ticket out. Both tickets had a seven on them, and that’s when Olivia noticed the man’s hands were different than hers. They had a mark on them in the shape of the letter U.

  “She stole my ticket!” bleated the other woman.

  “Ma’am, in Texas, I do believe possession is nine-tenths of the law, so why don’t you get out, now?” asked the man. “Let me save you the trouble and let you down easy: I don’t have any interest in dating liars, but confident women who aren’t afraid to call out bullshit? That’s my type.”

  “Is there a problem here?” asked Grandma Quiggly, approaching the table.

  “Yes, there is a problem. She stole my ticket!” said the strange woman.

  “Oh, is that so?” asked Grandma Quiggly. “Then why is Olivia at her assigned table, table seven?”

  “Her assigned table?” asked the woman.

  “What, you didn’t think that I didn’t write this stuff down, now, did you?” asked Grandma Quiggly, flashing her clipboard. “All names and numbers are listed here, and you, Beatrice Clark, are not listed as sitting at this table. You won’t be sitting at any table tonight, though. If you had sat at your assigned table, table five, you would’ve had a chance with Mister Jackson here, but now, you’ll need to leave…and you’re not welcome back in the future, Miss Clark.”

  Beatrice fumed at being reminded of her status as an unmarried woman. “You’ll pay for this, Quiggly,” said Beatrice. “I just wanted to date a nice horse shifter, instead of some fuckin’ goat, and I get this shit.” Beatrice grabbed her purse and left the restaurant without further ado.