The Rapunzel Rodeo

by Sable Sylvan

  “Why hello, y’all! Welcome to Fated Mate Speed Date,” said Grandma Quiggly. “As the name might suggest, everyone here is looking for their fated mate, their true love, whatever y’all want to call it: that special someone they’ll be with forever. And I do mean forever. Now, before we get started, let’s get y’all acquainted with the rules of this here speed dating event.”

  “Tonight, you’ll go on a series of speed dates,” said Grandpa Scoville. “During these dates, you can help yourself to as much food and alcohol as you want. Place your drink orders with the servers, so you don’t have to get up. Your ticket price covers meals and drinks. When you hear our bell ring, the ladies will move to the next table, and the servers will move your plates and glasses for you. You’ll be starting at the table with the number that matches the number on your ticket and move in numerical order to the next table. So, if your number is four, you start at table four, move to table five, then table six, and so on.”

  “At the end of the evening, you’ll mark a card and express your interest in your dates,” said Grandma Quiggly. “There’s no limit to how many partners you mark down. Then, over the next week, you’ll find out if you made any matches and we’ll exchange your phone numbers through our service. Yes, the number exchange is part of the ticket price, but gift delivery is not. If any of y’all want to make a good impression, we highly recommend using our matchmaking service to have a gift delivered to your special someone in person. It’s seventy dollars per delivery, but can you put a price on love?”

  “I think you just did, dear,” said Grandpa Scoville, and the room laughed. “Now, without further ado, let the speed dating commence!” Grandpa Scoville rang a bell, and everyone moved to their seats.

  Melanie looked at her ticket. She had the number seven printed on her ticket. That had to be lucky, right? She walked towards table seven and couldn’t help but smile.

  Tall, tanned, with his plaid work shirt’s sleeves carefully rolled up to his elbows, there sat a man with silvery blonde hair and eyes of a pewter toned gold. She swore she could’ve seen them glow as she approached the table. As she approached, she saw him start to get up from his chair. He was wearing a pair of worn but clean denim blue jeans, bleached into a shade of sky blue by the sun, his thick thighs bulging against the fabric of his pants. A plain brown leather belt framed his groin, and Melanie felt her cheeks redden as she took a sureptitious glance towards a thickened area of the man’s pants. It had to be a wrinkle in the denim, but Melanie’s imagination went wild with thoughts of what could lay beneath the metal zipper.

  The man stood, pulling out her chair as she came near. His eyes flicked over her body and took her in her beauty in an instant. His gift had come wrapped in quite the pretty package, her prairie rose patterned dress barely able to contain her sumptuous curves, and he couldn’t wait to unwrap this gift from Fate. Her hair flowed over her shoulders in soft waves, and her face was glowing with what he hoped was a similar appreciation for his own form. His inner beast let out a yowl and he had to silence his beast, lest the throbbing in his pants become stronger and more uncomfortable for the cowboy to restrain. He felt his eyes glow, and was glad that Melanie, facing towards the table and away from him, hadn’t seen it happen. The last thing he wanted was to waste time talking about his shift when all he wanted to do was learn more about the gorgeous, curvy woman with whom he’d been deigned worthy of sharing a few precious minutes.

  “Why thank you,” said Melanie, taking her seat. She’d never had a man take a chair out for her before, not in Fallowedirt, except when she went to fancy events at Addison’s manor. She noticed the man hadn’t started on the food that he’d been served while waiting for Melanie to arrive. She wouldn’t’ve expected the rugged man to have such refined manners.

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” said the man, going back to his seat. “Daniel, Daniel Moore.” He stretched out a hand. Melanie noticed his hands had strange marks like paw pads on the palm. She recognized them. They were shifter marks, the marks that certain shifters had that gave a clue as to their species. At first, she thought he might be a bear, but the marks were different than the marks on Addison’s husband’s palms.

  “Melanie, Melanie --,” started Melanie as she gave Daniel her hand. Her next words were caught in her throat as Daniel gently raised Melanie’s hand to his lips and brushed his tender mouth over her hand, like a whisper to her heart through her skin.

  “Well, Melanie Melanie, as I said…the pleasure’s all mine,” said Daniel. “I never would’ve thought to find such a rare beauty at an event like this.”

  “It’s Melanie Watson, and you seem to have mastered the art of flattery,” said Melanie. “But, are you an artist by trade, or just at events like this?”

  Daniel let out a hearty chuckle. “If you could consider wrangling cattle on horseback an art, then I’m an artist, but I think most would just call me a cowboy.”

  “A cowboy? Really?” asked Melanie.

  “Really,” said Daniel. “I work the night shift at the McCarthy Dude Ranch. After all, my shift is suited to it.”

  “Your shift?” asked Melanie.

  “That’s right,” said Daniel. “I’m a mountain lion. Nocturnal. A hunter. When a guest on the ranch goes missing, when a cow gets left on the pasture past dark, I’m the man that hunts them down and brings them back to their bunk.”

  “And why do I have a feeling you’re here to bring something else back home?” asked Melanie.

  Daniel’s cock twitched. Curvy, cute, sassy, and flirty? He resisted the urge of his shift and of his throbbing cock to admit to Melanie that’s precisely what he wanted to do.

  “Now, Miss Melanie, you do know this is Fated Mate Speed Date, not Fated Mate Speed Lay, right?” asked Daniel. “You’ll have to take me to dinner and a movie before you get into these jeans. Now, what is it you do for a living?”

  “I’m a hairdresser,” said Melanie. “This summer, I’ve been doing some volunteer work with the local beauty pageant.”

  “Shouldn’t you be up on stage competing?” asked Daniel.

  “Oh, stop,” said Melanie, giving a flick of her wrist as she felt her cheeks burning. “I’m helping with organizing hair and makeup and training various hairdresser and cosmetologists, teaching them how to do pageant makeup. It’s like theatre makeup mixed with glamour makeup, which a lot of them don’t have training in, but they have the fundamentals.”

  “Why volunteer?” asked Daniel. “Why the beauty pageant?”

  “It seems silly, I know,” said Melanie. “But, it’s a fundraiser for a new science lab over at the high school. Every dollar the pageant raised will be matched by the Scoville family. The Scovilles are sort of big around these parts.”

  “They’re those billionaire bears,” said Daniel. “The ones with the hot sauce empire.”

  “Exactly,” said Melanie. “I want to help make this town better, any way I can, and if I can do that by volunteering at a beauty pageant, well…that’s what I’m gonna do.”

  The bell rang, and Daniel stood to pull Melanie’s chair out for her.

  “It truly was a pleasure,” said Daniel in a soft whisper, his lips near Melanie’s ears as hair brushed over his whiskered cheeks.

  Melanie resisted the urge to take Daniel by the hand and leave the restaurant. His sensual voice had hypnotized her, helped by the forbidden incense that was his natural musk. She wanted nothing more than to break more than a few rules with him that night, starting with breaking the rule about leaving Fated Mate Speed Date before she finished her next few days. It was true: she did have some more speed dates to go on. This would be goodbye, but only for now.

  Melanie walked to the next table, where a toned man in a white shirt covered in reddish-brown stains was eating with gusto. At first, she’d thought the liquid was blood. It made sense, given the man was ripping into various meats with primal fury, holding half of a chicken in one hand as he licked a set of ribs clean with gusto. Then, she realized that the
liquid wasn’t blood: it was one of the Quincy-Scoville hot sauces. It was sexy and fascinating at the time, like watching a nature documentary about wild, handsome cowboys of the Texas plains, and while it was a little gross, it was also pretty spicy. A man who could eat food like that would surely know how to go to town on a woman and show her body the same admiration and enthusiasm he was showing for eating barbecue. After all, he obviously liked more than a little meat on his bones, and he could cover her with his sauce any day. Melanie wanted to join in, licking the sauce right off the man’s chest. She pulled out her own chair and sat across from him.

  “Enjoying your meal?” she asked. She looked over the man. He had golden blonde hair and she caught a glimpse of his eyes, a greenish gold. He was eating with his hands, but through the sauce, she could see he had shifter marks. From the way he was eating, she wouldn’t’ve been surprised if he was a wild boar shifter, or maybe a weregoat, as he was eating like he’d been raised in a barn.

  The man looked up and looked over the woman in front of him. Unlike the last one, she had curves, real curves, curves he could see himself digging his hands into while taking her in whatever direction he wanted, her soft body underneath him, begging for more and more of his thick cowboy cock. She was wearing a cute dress, but he thought it’d look better on the floor. Her hair was nice, but it’d look better splayed across his sheets as she moaned aloud for him. His inner shift roared and he swore he felt his eyes glow.

  He followed the curvy girl’s gaze and looked down at his shirt. He’d managed to cover himself in hot sauce. He grabbed a napkin and dabbed at the spots, but just seemed to smudge them, and the girl giggled. Her laugh made him smile in kind.

  “I’m so sorry,” said the man. “Talk about first impressions.”

  “Melanie, Melanie Watson, and you are?” asked Melanie, extending a hand.

  “Taylor, Taylor Jenkins,” said the cowboy. Taylor took Melanie’s hand and shook it and then, felt a stickiness binding their palms as he pulled out of the handshake.

  Melanie wiped her now sticky hands off on a napkin.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Taylor. “Let me get that for you.” He leaned over to help wipe Melanie’s hands, and in the process, spilled his beer on the table. Melanie moved out of the way, but some beer splattered the skirt of her dress.

  Taylor expected Melanie to get angry, but instead, she laughed.

  “You always this nervous, or just during speed dates?” asked Melanie, still laughing.

  “Only around pretty girls,” said Taylor shyly, reaching a hand around his head before flagging down a waiter to get some more napkins to clean up the mess he’d made.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Melanie. “Look. Just treat this like it’s not a first date. Treat it like a second date. We’ve already done the whole introductions deal. Last date, I told you my name and that I’m a hairdresser.”

  “And…I told you I’m Taylor, the rookie cowboy and klutz extraordinaire,” said Taylor. “You’re good at putting people at ease, Melanie. Makes sense you’d be a hairdresser.”

  “You have no idea,” said Melanie.

  “I do,” said Taylor. “As a kid, I was a fidgety mess and got my ear nicked when I went to the hairdresser. See?” Taylor pulled back his blonde locks, revealing his ears. One was rounded on the top, while the other had a little nick.

  “You sure your mama didn’t accidentally take you to an ear piercer? Trust me, I won’t cut your ears ‘til the third date,” said Melanie. “Tell me, what do you like about being a cowboy?”

  “I like getting to work the night shift,” said Taylor. “Gives me lots of time to read books.” A waiter came by with a set of cloth napkins for the pair.

  “Bookworm, eh?” asked Melanie. “You read those electronic books?”

  “Nope, paperbacks,” said Taylor, mopping at the table with the napkins. “It’s a lot more expensive to replace an e-reader than it is to replace a ninety-nine cent paperback.”

  “Why would you need to replace it?” asked Melanie, helping Taylor clean the table up.

  “I lost a mystery novel while I rode the range. I lost a thriller when I was chasing after a wannabe cattle rustler. I lost a western at a bar, but that’s because I used it as a bet during a poker game in which I also lost my silver belt buckle,” said Taylor. “Guess you could say I’m pretty wild. It’s a good thing I get’m all for cheap at the thrift shop.”

  The bell rang. Melanie got up and moved to the next table. Taylor wiped his hands off again and pulled out Melanie’s seat. Melanie looked back at Taylor, who was still watching her as his date approached her table. She broke eye contact and turned towards her next date, a tall, broad man in a black button up, sleeves rolled up, and black jeans, who was already standing and pulling her chair out for her.

  “Hope you’ve got room for two cowboys tonight,” growled the man. The dirty blonde had feral yellow eyes that sent a chill down Melanie’s spine, and a throbbing through her thighs. Taylor may have looked like a man who wanted to eat her up, but this man looked more animal than man, and looked like his appetites were far more forbidden and mysterious.

  “Sorry. It’s my first time at one of these things,” said Melanie, extending a hand. “Melanie. Melanie Watson.”

  “Mine too,” said the man, taking her hand in his. She felt a roughness on his palms that sent a fire through her core. She knew instantly what he was: a shifter.

  “And your name?” asked Melanie.

  “Is it all that important?” said the mysterious stranger. “After all...you’ve already managed to catch my eye. Names can wait until later. Until after I’ve had you.”

  Melanie’s jaw dropped. She’d never met a man who just said whatever was on his mind, with no filter whatsoever.

  “Then...what name will I cry out?” asked Melanie.

  The man felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. This gal was dirtier than his dirty blonde hair, spicier than the meat on his plate and the meat on her bones. “Charlie. Charlie Mitchell.”

  “Well, Charles --” started Melanie.

  “Charlie,” said the shifter.

  “Well, Charlie, what brings a man like you to a town like this?” asked Melanie.

  “Grew up here,” said Charlie simply. “You wouldn’t’ve run into me. I would’ve remembered.”

  “And how do you fill your days? It’s obvious you spend your nights hitting on any warm-blooded thing you scent out,” teased Melanie.

  “I work on the ranch. I’m what you’d call a finder. If you need something, I can find it...due to my acute sense and some other more mystical properties I’ve attained over the years,” said Charlie. “But you’re wrong about how I spend my nights.”

  “Am I? You’re the one who opened his dirty mouth the second he saw me, and couldn’t hold that tongue,” retorted Melanie, crossing her arms and giving Charlie the once over. The roguish shifter’s broad chest strained against his shirt. She couldn’t see any mate marks on his exposed skin. Melanie wondered just how many buttons she’d have to undo to find the special brand bestowed by Fate upon his firm body.

  “Trust me. I’m a man with special tastes. Look at the women at the next two tables after me,” ordered Charlie.

  Melanie peered. The women looked much like herself, although slightly more dressed up. They were clean, in cute clothes, and seemed engaged in their conversations with their dates.

  “They look ordinary to me,” said Melanie with a shrug.

  “Exactly,” said Charlie. “Ordinary. And I’m not a man who’s satisfied with ordinary, Miss Melanie. You’ll find that out soon enough.”

  “Oh really? Then why are you in the most ordinary town this side of the Mississippi?” asked Melanie.

  Charlie let out a loud laugh. “Oh. You’re serious. Well, if you think Fallowedirt’s ordinary, I’m going to have to lure you to my haunts. Trust me. I’m not just an animal: I’m a party animal. I’m looking forward to unleashing your wild side. What exactly i
s it you do, Melanie?”

  “I’m a hairdresser,” Melanie said cautiously.

  “Hairdresser. Interesting,” said Charlie. “You ever do men’s hair?”

  “Sometimes,” said Melanie. “Most go to the barber.”

  “Well, I’d love for you to do mine,” said Charlie. “Only comb you’ll need is your fingers. Only hairdryer you’ll need is your hot breath against my ears as you moan to take more of me. Maybe I’ll give you sex hair too...if you ask me real nice. Or if you beg. Begging works too. Hell, maybe if you’re nice, I’ll let you bring a friend along. Maybe that cowboy you were staring at before, who you haven’t thought about since we started talkin’.”

  “You’d share?” asked Melanie.

  “I said ‘maybe,’“ said Charlie. “Let’s see if you play your cards right. After all, I’m no cheap late. You’re gonna have to take me out for dinner and a movie first.”

  The bell rung out, and Melanie got up from her chair, but not without getting in the last word. “We’ve already had dinner. Guess we’re gonna have to make our own movie.” It was Charlie’s turn to drop his jaw as Melanie confidently sashayed away.

  Melanie had three more speed dates that night, but none could compare to the first three she had. At the end of the night, when she had to decide which men she wanted to exchange numbers with, she marked down all three shifters: the sweet and traditional mountain lion, the bookish buff puma, and the cougar with a wild side. After all, what were the chances she’d get matched up with all three cowboys?

  About the Author

  I’m Sable Sylvan, and the only thing I love more than reading hot paranormal romances is writing down my fantasies and sharing them with readers like you. My heroes are strong alpha male shifters who can be grizzly and gruff at times…but when it comes to their mates, they turn into absolute teddy bears. The curvy heroines in my stories are strong, sassy women, and that’s why the bear shifter men who love them will do anything for their fated mates.