The Feminine Mesquite: The Complete Series

by Sable Sylvan

  They let the dye soak into the hair and finally, Savina had to wash it out of Mace’s hair. He leaned back while Savina ran her hands through his hair, washing the dye out into the stainless steel bathroom sink. Herb had counted on Mace to make a mess of his bathroom and had included the steel sink in expectation of an event like this. What Herb hadn’t expected was for Mace to turn his head quickly, splattering the wall with dots of blue dye that would never, ever come out of the walls.

  “Are we done?” asked Savina, helping bag up the trash, before throwing out her gloves. The worn shirt she’d worn was so messed up that it’d need to be thrown away because if it were washed, it would ruin the rest of the clothes in the wash.

  “Heck no,” said Mason. “You and I still have a rehearsal dinner to get to.”

  While the guests arrived at The Matchstick Grill, the staff passed around appetizers, and the Quincy Sisters and the Scoville Brothers stood in the front of the restaurant to greet people. The only couple not there was Alice and Herb, as they had to pick someone up from the airport that day. As all the couples were standing next to each other in the receiving line, in order of age, Savina had no choice but to stand next to Mason. It was awkward as her hands sat at her sides, brushing against his. She had to feel the heat of his body, smell his natural masculine musk. It reminded her of the night that she had told herself she’d try to forget, but something inside of her wouldn’t let her forget, not even for a second. Every rustling of her cocktail dress’s skirt reminded her of the rustling of their sheets. Every soft shadow on the sidewalk reminded her of the shadows he’d cast on her body.

  It didn’t help that in his suit, Mason looked ravishing. He was a bad boy, but he could pull off a suit like a fashion model. He wore it like a second skin. It could barely hide his muscular arms or his broad shoulders. He greeted every member of his family and her family as if everything was okay, even though his bear was roaring and weeping. After all, Mason had found his fated mate, but in the one person he knew he could never be with because she didn’t even want him. She’d ignored him since that night they’d made love, even though he’d tried to signal to her that he was there for her if she wanted to talk.

  One thing was for certain. Savina wanted zero drama regarding the wedding, so if that’s what his fated mate wanted, that’s what he could give her, even if she didn’t want him. That didn’t mean Mason would give up the hunt. In around a week, the wedding would happen, and after that, there was no telling whether or not Savina’s reaction to being his fated mate would change. All he could do was hope that it would and not ruin his shots by losing his cool. He was supposed to be the bad boy, but there was a difference between breaking all the rules and ruining his chances of being with his true love. If getting her meant being the good guy for a while, he could do that, for as long as he possibly could.

  That didn’t mean that Mason wasn’t struggling inside. Any daredevil would agree that the most grueling part of climbing a mountain, surfing a tsunami-sized wave, or flying a helicopter for a rescue mission wasn’t the physical element. It was the internal stress that threatened to make one’s hands lose grip of the side of a mountain, that could take one’s head out of the game and pull one under the waves, that could cause one’s hands to jerk and crash their aircraft. For a shifter, this was amplified and all the more dangerous. When Mason lost his cool, there was a possibility he could lose his humanity, shift then and there, turn into the beast that he had to deny being for a week that felt like an eternity.

  Alice and Herb’s car came around. They had the last guest that needed greeting, one of the most important guests of the night. A round woman, her shape accentuated by her smart blue pastel blazer and gray pearls around her neck, came out of the car. The pearls matched her salt-and-pepper hair and her satin kitten heels. Her sage green purse was sophisticated but practical, and of course, full of butterscotch candy. There was no mistaking this woman for anyone but the matriarch of the Quiggly family, the one and only Barbara Quiggly, known to the Quincy Sisters as merely, ‘Grandma Barb.’

  “Hey, Grandma Barb,” said Cayenne, rushing to give her favorite relative a hug. “I missed you so much this summer.”

  “I missed you, too,” said Barbara. “But it looks like you haven’t been too lonely this summer. This is your dear Basil, yes?”

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said Basil. He took Barbara’s hand and gave it a chaste kiss.

  “He was raised right,” said Barbara. “Although, I guess I ought not be so surprised! Looks like being around the Scovilles has changed you all quite a bit. Addison, in a cocktail dress? Why I never!”

  “I heard that, Grandma,” said Addison. “You should’ve seen these boys before we got our hands on them.”

  “Well, if anyone were going to tame four bear shifters, it would be you four,” said Barbara. “So that’s Sage, yes?”

  “A pleasure,” said Sage, coming up to Barbara and giving her hand a kiss as well.

  “Do they have someone my age?” asked Barbara. “They’re so polite!”

  “Yeah, when they’ve been whipped into shape,” said Abigail, her arms crossed, looking to Clove.

  “Abigail, my dear girl, I am so sorry I couldn’t make your graduation,” said Barbara. “I had the hip surgery. Come here and let me give you a hug!”

  “All right, Grandma, but do mind your hip,” said Abigail, delicately hugging her grandma. Her grandma returned the hug with a great big bear hug that took the breath out of Abigail.

  “If I don’t use it, why on earth did I pay for it?” teased Barbara. “Always so serious, Abigail. “And you, you must be Clove…I’ve heard a good deal about you, too. You may try to be the strong, silent type, but you better make sure you communicate when you have to. Whether you’re shifter or human, that is the key to a strong relationship.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Quiggly,” said Clove, performing a small bow for Barbara.

  “I’ve met Alice’s Herb, Abby’s Clove, Addy’s Sage, and Cayenne’s Basil,” said Barbara. “That leaves, of course…Savina and her Mason.”

  “My Mason?” asked Savina. “Oh no, Grandma…it’s not like that.”

  “Isn’t it?” asked Barbara, confused, looking between Savina and Mace. “Oh, yes, they’re not engaged yet.”

  “No, we’re not dating either,” said Savina. “We’re just suitemates.”

  “Suitemates? Is that like the uh, what do you call it, ‘friends with benefits’ I’ve heard about on the news?” asked Barbara.

  “No, Grandma,” said Alice. “You see, Herb and I have a very big…house and we divided it into suites. We sorted people based on age. Savina and Mason happen to share a suite.”

  “So they share a bedroom?” asked Barbara.

  “No, it’s a real suite,” said Alice. “They each get a bedroom. There’s a shared room in the middle that can be used as anything.”

  “I use mine as an art studio,” said Cayenne, squeezing Basil’s hand.

  “Ah, I see,” said Barbara. “Do forgive my confusion, dearie. It’s just, you two do make such a handsome couple.” Barbara gave Savina what was meant to be a conspiratorial wink, but all it did was make Savina want to cry. She swallowed her tears before they could burst and she just gave her grandma a soft smile back before leaning in to give her a hug.

  Barbara gave Mason a quick hug too and they all headed inside to eat. Neither the Quiggly nor the Quincy nor the Scoville family knew about eating churrasco, so it was a new experience for all of them. Waiters, dressed in more conservative Viking inspired clothing than usual, walked around with what looked like Norse swords. They were skewers covered in meat, barbecued over a grill. They served cuts of meat onto plates, and people served themselves from the plates. As there were many people, the servers cut the meat directly onto platters. People served themselves using personal tongs.

  Naturally, as this restaurant was a showcase for The Feminine Mesquite, all four of their hot sauces were on the table, with t
wo used in the cooking of the meat. There was jalapeño chicken made with their ‘Secret Sauce’ as well as adobo cooked pork made with their ‘No Bullshizz Sauce.’ The rest of the meat was served without sauce so people could add their own. All the best cuts of beef were served, from filet mignon to classic Texas tri-tip. There was roasted habanero ‘Awesome Sauce’ and cayenne garlic ‘Fated Mate Sauce’ for anyone who wanted some extra heat, and for dessert, there was tres leches cake, made with caramelized condensed milk that was turned into a caramel syrup, whipped cream, and heavy whipping cream, unwhipped.

  “Thank you all so much for joining us tonight,” said Alice. “Herb and I would like to extend invitations to all of you for tomorrow’s hot sauce competition.”

  “That’s right,” said Herb. “Our eight younger siblings have joined forces to make four brand spankin’ new hot sauces, and the winning sauce will be featured at the Bright Star County Fair. However…Alice and I have one last twist to reveal.”

  “A twist?” asked Cayenne. “No frikkin’ way, not this late in the game!”

  “It’s nothing major,” said Alice. “But…we thought that, because this is a hot sauce competition and not a cooking competition, that it was only fair that the hot sauces all be used in the same dish. It wouldn’t be a Texas cook-off without chili, so back at the manor, the chefs are busy brewing your sauces into chili.”

  “So that’s why you required a gallon of sauce from each of us,” said Basil, crossing his arms. “I guess it’s a good thing for the other teams, given they can’t cook half as well as Kai and I can.” Cayenne extended her fist and Basil bumped it. Looking at them, it was hard for Savina to believe that they’d been at each other’s throats since the spring, until barely a couple months ago, but they were obviously on the same wavelength now.

  “All the chilis will be the same, except for the sauce,” said Herb. “We won’t be marking which chili contain which sauce, so please don’t go telling people what’s in each dish. We want this to be a fair blind testing. Naturally, if you have any allergies or dietary restrictions, talk to me or talk to Alice and we can make sure you can safely eat a given dish.”

  “We’ll be serving sweet tea, cornbread, fried chicken, and all the other Southern staples us Quincy and Quiggly folk enjoy,” said Alice. “We wanted to share a little bit of our culture with you, the Scovilles.”

  “And, to share our Norwegian culture with the Quincy and Quiggly families, we’ve also prepared a special smorgasbord, a cold buffet of things like imported smoked salmon,” said Herb.

  Alice and Herb went on to explain the various details of the next day’s shindig. The queasy feeling in Savina Quincy’s stomach got worse. The hot sauce competition was so silly. Why did it still matter to her? Regardless of whether or not she wanted it to matter to her, it did, and the thought of failing at the competition made Savina’s stomach spin. That spinning sensation kept Savina up late into the night…

  Savina was reading a comic book and listening to her music. That’s why she didn’t notice that Mason had opened her door and was walking over to her until his shadow was cast on her comic book. She looked up and nearly jumped off of her bed.

  “You scared me,” Savina scolded as she removed her headphones. She looked over Mason. His hair was wet, but it wasn’t dripping on her floor. The dye job hadn’t been ruined and there wasn’t dye on his fingers or his clothes. He was wearing a pair of black running pants and a tight white shirt. Through the shirt, which was slightly damp and somewhat transparent, she could see his mate mark. She looked away, back to the comic book. Why the heck did Mason have to look so darn sexy and turn her on, but at the same time, make her feel so guilty? He had to know what he was doing.

  “Sorry,” said Mason. “I saw your light on, and I worried.”

  “You worried?” asked Savina, folding her arms.

  “Yeah. Don’t you like getting your eight hours?” asked Mason, motioning to her bed. “Why aren’t you under the covers yet?”

  “What are you, my dad?” asked Savina.

  “Nope, just worried,” said Mason. “It’s not like you to stay up.”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of staying up lately,” said Savina. “I just usually mess around on my phone. That’s why my light isn’t usually on.”

  “You haven’t been sleeping?” asked Mason.

  “It’s nothing,” said Savina.

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing,” said Mason.

  “Mason, do you really wanna do this?” asked Savina, closing the comic book and putting it on her desk before going back to sit on the bed. “After all, aren’t you a hypocrite?”

  “How so?” asked Mason.

  “You’re wearing jogging clothes at eleven at night,” said Savina.

  “First off, I was going for a run,” said Mason. “Secondly, it’s not eleven. It’s three. You need to hit the hay. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Savina. “I’ll try and get some sleep.”

  “You haven’t been sleeping, have you,” said Mason. It wasn’t a question.

  “It’s none of your business,” said Savina. “Just go so I can get changed and go to bed, okay? I’ll be at the hot sauce competition tomorrow. Just knock on my door if I’m still asleep when you get up.”

  “Okay,” said Mason. “But, Savina…”

  “Yeah?” asked Savina.

  “If you don’t talk about what’s going on in here,” said Mason, motioning to his head and then his heart. “Or in here, you won’t be able to fall asleep.”

  “I just had too much sugar tonight,” said Savina. “Bye, Mason.”

  “Bye, Savina,” said Mason, shutting the door behind him as he left.

  Savina went to get changed and found herself crying while she picked her pajamas out. She cried silently because the last thing she wanted was another surprise visit from Mason, especially while she was crying. What the heck was going on? What was inside of her that was keeping her up at night, and why the heck did that inside thing think that everything Savina was doing was wrong, wrong, wrong?

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Close to half of the Quincy-Scoville family had made it to the hot sauce competition held at Mesquite Manor. Alice and Herb had hired their cooks from The Matchstick Grill to help their household staff in preparing the chili and the other foods that would be served at the cookout. The Quincy Sisters and Scoville Brothers would’ve been put to work, but they were busy receiving their guests, which gave Savina an opportunity to get away from Mason and make small talk with relatives she hadn’t seen in quite a while…although every time she saw Mason out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw him look at her, too.

  Why did Mason care so much about her? The events of last night had made Savina feel even worse about what had happened between them when they’d had sex. It was obvious that Mason gave a darn about her. She’d crushed his heart, but it was to save the feelings of her sisters and his brothers. He had to realize that this wedding was bigger than the two of them. It was a Texas-sized affair that was already attracting the wrong kind of attention. That’s all Savina knew. She’d heard whisperings in the hallway from the staff, but they hadn’t spilled the beans on what was going on.

  The cook-out started at lunch. That way, judging and calculations of votes would be finished up by mid-afternoon, just in time for a fancy white tablecloth dinner hosted in the grand dining room. The line for the vats of chili was long, but there was lots of chili, enough for everyone. There had been one last twist. There was a fifth chili, and nobody knew who had entered it into the competition. Was it Grandma Barbara? Was it the Scoville parents? Nobody knew!

  Savina sipped at her lemon sweet tea while she watched the Quincys and the Scovilles eating and talking, smiling and laughing. The Quincys had dressed up, the Scovilles had dressed down, and even though they were from very different worlds, they were bonding over hot sauce and food, just like one Quincy and one Scoville had a long, long time ago.

 
; “Enjoying the view?” asked a familiar voice.

  Savina turned. There was Mason. He was wearing faded red Bermuda shorts with a white polo. It was fancy for Fallowedirt but casual for a member of the Oslo elite. Mason was walking up to her with two cups.

  “Double fisting?” asked Savina, motioning to the cups.

  “Nah, this is for you,” said Mason. He passed Savina a cup.

  Savina looked in the cup. It was full of sprinkles.

  “Huh?” asked Savina.

  “I know you like your sweet tea with sprinkles,” said Mason. “I got you some from the kitchen.”

  “Oh, gee, you noticed that?” asked Savina, turning and blushing.

  “Yeah, I did,” said Mason. “I also noticed, while in the kitchen, that there’s been a slight delay with the second batch of chili, so if we want some, we should get it now, before my kin get a second appetite.”

  “Before your kin do?” asked Savina. “Have you seen my kin?”

  “You suggesting that Alice and Herb should’ve had an eating contest instead?” asked Mason.

  “I have a feeling hot sauce pie wouldn’t be as great as chili,” said Savina. “Just a hunch, you know?” Savina poured the sprinkles into her sweet tea and layered the sprinkle cup underneath her tea cup. Even though the tea was cold, the sprinkles would eventually melt into the tea. She walked with Mason to the chili area. In about six minutes, they’d gotten a table and ten little cups of chili, with spoons and a pitcher of lemon iced tea and some lemonade, too. The cups were served by the staff into labeled paper bowls.

  “Should we go in order?” asked Savina.

  “Sounds good to me,” said Mason.

  “Okay, chili numero uno,” said Savina. She put the chili in her mouth and tasted it. The sauce was smoky, but it tasted like pure liquid smoke. It tasted bacony, and there was a heat, but it didn’t seem to be from chili peppers.