The Rapunzel Rodeo

by Sable Sylvan

  The forms were usually used in the front of the shop to show off what Olivia was working on, but at this time, Olivia was using them to show off her anniversary gift to her boys. On each of the forms was a knit sweater, made of soft, high-quality sheep’s wool. Each sweater was in olive green, and on each, there was a horse…a horse that matched the shifts of her three boyfriends. There was a sweater with a bay horse complete with black mane for Jason, a sweater with a buckskin horse for Matthew, and for Richard, a deep black horse with shades of gray used to highlight its body. Each horse was in a running pose.

  “Olivia, this is amazing,” said Jason.

  “How did you keep this a secret from us for so long?” asked Matthew.

  “I worked on these when I had some downtime at the shop,” explained Olivia. “I’d work on them during breaks when I was on the phone, that kind of thing. It’s no big deal.”

  “It’s a huge deal,” said Jason. “You know I know first-hand how hard knitting is.”

  “Do you like them? Or are they super dorky?” asked Olivia.

  “I’m afraid to wear it. What if I get it dirty?” asked Matthew.

  “They’re dorky,” said Jason. “But I love dorky.”

  “We’re going to have to wear them all together for the Christmas photo, won’t we?” asked Richard.

  “Absolutely,” said Olivia. “No getting out of that one. It’s ironic that today, the day you finally get to see them, the weather’s unseasonably warm.”

  “We’re just going to have to save them for a rainy day, then,” said Jason, pulling Olivia in for a kiss on the lips.

  “You know…we have anniversary plans of our own,” said Matthew.

  “‘We’?” asked Olivia.

  “Don’t act like this is the first time we’ve ever planned something together,” said Richard.

  “Well, a lot of the stuff you’ve planned has been a little…hit or miss,” said Olivia. “Remember the white water inner tubing for couples? Y’all fought over who got to sit in my ring. Everyone thought that Matt and Jason made a cute couple.”

  “We would be a cute couple, so that’s true,” said Matthew, punching Jason in the arm jokingly. “But, remember our trip to the historical districts of San Antonio? That was a blast.”

  “Who could forget the Alamo?” asked Olivia. “Okay, you’ve got me there. What’s the plan for today?”

  “First things first, you’ve got to let that hair down,” Richard said.

  “Literally and figuratively,” said Matthew.

  “I don’t have my hairbrush with me, and you guys know it looks like a mess without product,” Olivia complained.

  “So does ours,” said Jason. One by one, all the horse shifters undid their ponytails and shook out their raggedy-looking long manes.

  “Today, we’re doing a salon day,” said Richard. “We all need to get a trim anyway. We all pitched in and got the group a package at that fancy salon. You can’t get out of it now that you know we’ve already ponied up the money for this surprise, so we better hoof it down to the salon.”

  Olivia and the guys put their hair back up and headed down Main Street to the salon. Olivia hadn’t been to the fancy salon in town before. She was a ‘get a haircut once a year’ kind of gal, and when she’d gone to the cheap salon in town, they’d given her a dated wash-and-wear haircut that was easy to put up when she was working. She’d never had the heart to go short, and she wasn’t planning on changing it that day.

  The salon smelled of lavender and honey. The entire group was treated to cupcakes, mimosas, and beer (as this was Texas) while they had manicures and pedicures done. While Matthew and Jason opted for a clear protective coat of polish, Olivia got a sparkly pink French manicure (at the insistence of the guys, who picked the color out for her). Richard, ever the freak, went for pitch black nails that Matthew insisted their boss would make Richard remove with paint thinner come Monday.

  After getting their nails done and their calves and feet massaged by the nail techs, they moved on to the hair stations. There were four stylists already ready to handle their hair.

  “What cut do you want, darlin’?” asked the stylist, who had hair with lots of volume and a bright blue streak through the center of her platinum bleached hair.

  “Uh…” started Olivia. “I have no clue.”

  “We have an idea,” said Matthew. “Trust us?”

  “I have to, don’t I?” asked Olivia. “Fine. I trust y’all. But if I come out of this looking like I belong in a hair metal band, there’s going to be heck to pay. Not quite Hell to pay, but heck to pay.”

  Jason pulled a pic up on his phone and showed it to the stylist.

  “We called about this earlier last week,” explained Jason. “The stuff was special order. Manager said it should be in the back.”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” said the stylist. “Her hair’s perfect for that. I think the bright lime green highlights will look really, really good.”

  “The what now?” asked Olivia.

  “Kidding, kidding,” said the stylist. “Just relax. Close your eyes, if that helps. Heck, we can even turn you around so you can watch TV instead of the mirror.”

  “That’d be nice,” admitted Olivia.

  Olivia talked to the guys while the haircuts happened, watching TV when the guys weren’t allowed to talk (as it’d mess up whatever the stylists were doing). Olivia was worried: a lot of stuff was happening to her head, and she had no clue what it was, but looking at the others and seeing how good their hair looked made her feel just a teensy bit less worried.

  Olivia was taken to a wash station, then back to the styling station, where her hair was trimmed even more, and finally, the stylist said, “We’re done.”

  “We’re done?” asked Olivia.

  “Yup,” said the stylist, turning Olivia to face the mirror. “What do you think?”

  Olivia looked at the girl in the mirror. It was hard to believe it was her, but the soft shoulders, blushing round cheeks, and the trio of werehorses around her could be nobody but Olivia Larson. She looked one way, then the other, and into a mirror that the stylist held up to show Olivia the back of her head.

  “What do you think?” asked Richard.

  “I think…I can’t believe this is my hair,” said Olivia. “It looks nothing like what it looked like before…and I love it.”

  Olivia’s hair had been transformed from head to, well, not quite her toes, but her mid-torso. Her long hair had previously gone to the small of her back, but the ends of the hair were thin, broken, and straggly. Having the bits that were breaking chopped off made her hair look much, much better. Her hair was dry from only ever being shampooed, not conditioned, but a deep conditioning treatment had restored all of her hair’s natural luster. A soft, natural looking highlighting treatment brought out the multi-dimensional colors her hair was capable of expressing. Uneven layers from the cheap salon had been blended back into her hair, which now had more natural feathered layers and a lower number of total layers.

  Most stunningly, her hair had been braided, but this wasn’t the standard braid Olivia did that got her hair out of her way so she could work. This was a fancy braid, which was somewhat flat but broad, with multiple braids within the braid. Entwined in the hair were flowers, and on closer inspection, each major third of the braid had a specific flower associated with it. One third had baby’s breath. The second third had thornless pink rosebuds. The last section was filled with lavender sprigs, which like the roses, let out a soft floral scent.

  “I didn’t know hair could look like this,” said Olivia, looking both ways again to see her hair from different angles. “I look amazing.”

  “You always look amazing,” said Jason.

  Matthew’s stomach grumbled.

  “I think we should be getting to our lunch reservation,” said Richard.

  The boys tipped all the stylists and nail techs out before they went to lunch at the one spot in town that they’d need to revisit for
their anniversaries: The Matchstick Grill. It was a usual day at The Matchstick Grill, and once everyone had filled their bellies with meat, Jason proposed another toast, with champagne.

  “To a day well spent,” said Jason.

  “Hear, hear!” said Richard. “To a great three months with a wonderful, caring woman.”

  “To a lifetime with her by our sides,” said Richard, putting down his champagne flute. Before Olivia could react, all three men had their flutes down and were kneeling on the floor. Each man was on one knee, looking up at Olivia, each holding onto part of a small black box.

  “Olivia Larson…these last three months have been a rollercoaster ride, and I wouldn’t change it for the world,” said Richard.

  “You’re our fated mate, but you’re so much more than that,” said Matthew.

  “You’re our true love,” said Jason. “Our true love. That’s why we’re doing this together, as a group.”

  “Olivia Larson…will you accept this ring, and our hands in marriage?” asked Matthew. He pulled the ring out of the box. It was a white gold band, with a line of small inset diamonds that wouldn’t get in the way of Olivia when she was working.

  “Richard…Jason…Matthew…of course, I will!” said Olivia, her eyes tearing up as Richard put the ring on her finger. “I only have one question: why the salon?”

  “You needed to let your hair down,” Jason answered.

  “And…you needed to have nice nails and hair for the engagement pics,” Richard said sheepishly.

  “Okay, well, then I accept under one condition,” said Olivia.

  “Anything, my love,” Matthew promised.

  “You all have to wear the sweaters to the engagement photo shoot,” said Olivia.

  “Done deal,” said Richard.

  All three men got up and gave Olivia kisses. Their Rapunzel had learned to let down her hair and more importantly, let down her walls. Now, it was up to her knights on white horses (with not a white horse shift between the three of them) to show her the rest of the big, wide world that was the fairy tale that would be their lives together.

  “Don’t you love a happy ending?” asked Grandma Quiggly, looking at Grandpa Scoville.

  “I’m not crying, it’s just onions,” insisted Grandpa Scoville.

  “I’m just happy I made over two hundred bucks off those kids,” said Grandma Quiggly.

  “Come on. You know you’re not in it for the money,” Grandpa Scoville said. “You just like teaching them expensive lessons because you want them to learn to value what really matters.”

  “Do not!” insisted Grandma Quiggly.

  “Do, too, and I’m sure your granddaughters would agree with me,” said Grandpa Scoville.

  “And I’m sure your grandsons would agree with me,” Grandma Quiggly assured him. “Oh, who am I kidding? We’re all hopeless romantics.”

  “It doesn’t seem that hopeless, given that you’ve now made six shifters and two women very happy, does it?” asked Grandpa Scoville. “Excluding us, of course. That’s a-whole-nother level of happiness.”

  “Six shifters? Two women? More like nine shifters and three women,” said Grandma Quiggly.

  “Oh? Why do I have a feeling you were involved in setting up another ménage?” asked Grandpa Scoville.

  “Tell me…have you heard the story about the beauty pageant, the hairdresser, and the three werecougars?” asked Grandma Quiggly.

  “I can’t say I have,” said Grandpa Scoville.

  “Well, this one’s really like something straight out of a Fallowedirt fairytale…” Grandma Quiggly started.

  Sneak Peek: “The Sleeping Beauty Pageant”

  My dear readers,

  A special sneak peek of the third book in the Fated Mate Speed Date series, “The Sleeping Beauty Pageant”, is coming up next.

  Love this book? Join the Sable Sylvan ARC (advance reader copy) team today! Get every Sable Sylvan book FREE a week (or two or three!) before release, no reviews required (although I love reading your reviews). Learn more about it here:

  https://www.sablesylvan.com/sablesylvanarcteam/

  Visit https://www.instafreebie.com/authors/sablesylvan to download any of my past ARCs for FREE today, in exchange for signing up for my ARC mailing list!

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  Yours,

  Sable Sylvan

  Local hair dresser Melanie Watson believes in big hair, big dreams, and big events. Volunteering to help organize the Fallowedirt Beauty Pageant means that Melanie doesn't have time for love, much less three alpha male suitors that can shift into big cats at the blink of an eye, but these cougar shifter cowboys are determined to claim Melanie as their fated mate. There's only one hitch: all three puma shifters want her, and Melanie can't choose her favorite suitor. Will this Texas princess get her fairytale ending, or will this Sleeping Beauty be left without a kiss?

  Melanie isn't the type to date three guys at once. When the three men she's enamored with end up getting her into deep trouble, the last thing she wants is for them to come back to her, tails tucked between their legs, with a poor excuse for a solution. Luckily for them, Melanie is the type to give third chances, so these were cougars had better get their act together if they want to win their princess back. The key word? Together.

  Charlie, Dan, and Taylor are looking for their fated mates: women they're meant to be with, to call their own. They're not looking to share, certainly not with each other. Charlie’s wild partying ways get on old-fashioned Dan's last nerves, and neither can get along with city boy Taylor. The only thing they have in common? All three are driven by their inner cougar, willing to fight for their mate. The only problem is, Melanie doesn't want a fight. The three were-cougar cowboys have already tried making war. That only leaves them with one option: making love. The only problem is, how can they earn back Melanie's trust and fix the situation they've gotten her into?

  Melanie Watson walked down Fallowedirt’s Main Street and scented something familiar. It wasn’t the acrid ammonia-filled scent of freshly mixed hair dye or the scent of the floral serum she used on her clients’ hair. This smell was sweet, yet savory. It was slightly salty, more than a little spicy, and it made her mouth water. It was the smell of barbecue, and luckily for her, it was coming from the direction she was walking.

  “Do you smell that?” asked Addison Quincy-Scoville.

  “Your restaurant’s cooked up something special,” said Melanie. “I can tell.”

  “That’s not the only thing getting cooked up. My grandma’s cooked up a hot and spicy batch of her special brand of mischief,” said Addison.

  “You can’t just drop a line like that and not tell the whole story,” said Melanie.

  “While you and I have been hard at work making the Fallowedirt Beauty Pageant into something more than just a bunch of girls in dresses on a stage, my grandma’s been running a speed dating service,” said Addison. “She calls it ‘Fated Mate Speed Date,’ and she’s holding it at the restaurant.”

  “You’re telling me your sister Cayenne is letting Grandma Quiggly use The Matchstick Grill to run a speed dating service?” asked Melanie, putting a hand on her hip. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

  “Trust me. If I wasn’t a happily married woman, and I do mean happily married, I would be in attendance,” said Addison.

  “Because you’d want to go, or because she’d make you?” teased Melanie.

  “A little bit o’ both,” admitted Addison. “Have you seen the men that event draws in? I’m talking shifters. I’m talking cowboys. I’m talking cowboy shifters.”

  “Would that be shifters who are cowboys or shifters that can turn into cowboys?” asked Melanie.

  “Laugh all you want, but apparently, my grandma has made more than her share of matches already,” said Addison.

  “I’m not looking for all that right now,�
�� said Melanie. “I mean, of course, I want true love. I just don’t have the time for it.”

  “That’s why speed dating would be perfect for you!” squealed Addison. “Come on. You would get to try out a bunch of different guys in one night, and one of them is bound to be perfect for you. If not, hey, at least you got a belly full of some good food.”

  “Fine, I’ll give it one shot,” said Melanie. “But only because I’m hungry.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Addison.

  The pair of curvy girls walked down Main Street until they got to the restaurant. The smell of cooked meats and spices filled Addison’s nose and made her mouth water.

  Addison walked Melanie in, straight towards an older woman with glasses on her nose, hair in a bun, and a clipboard in her hand.

  “Grandma Quiggly, you remember my friend Melanie, right?” asked Addison.

  “I do indeed,” said Grandma Quiggly. “You’re single? I’m surprised, given you have more curves than a roller-coaster, but you must be, if Addison dragged you in here.”

  “Hey to you too,” said Melanie. “Yeah, I’m looking to try out this ‘Fated Mate Speed Date’ thing.”

  “Great,” said Grandma Quiggly. “That’ll be sixty dollars.”

  “Sixty dollars?!” asked Melanie.

  “I got it,” said Addison, pulling out her credit card. “What’s the point of being married to a billionaire if I can’t use the money on my friends?”

  Before Melanie could protest, Grandma Quiggly had swiped the card, put Melanie’s info into her tablet’s system, and handed her a ticket with her name and a number.

  “Now, dear, go stand over there, and we’ll get started in a few minutes,” said Grandma Quiggly.

  Melanie stood by the other singles. The restaurant was crowded, despite the high ticket price to the speed dating event. She looked around and spotted a few men that looked handsome, but she couldn’t see their faces as they were facing away from her, towards Grandma Quiggly and her husband, Grandpa Scoville, who had just taken a mic at the hostess podium.