The Feminine Mesquite: The Complete Series

by Sable Sylvan

  Herb had bought a mansion on the outskirts of town and renamed it Mesquite Manor after giving the house some much-needed renovations. Addy had first seen the house when she had flown in for the housewarming party…but that’s when Herb and Alice revealed they had been engaged for a few weeks! They also told the siblings of their plan for the sauce company in person and showed them their brand-new rooms. Each of the pairs of siblings was going to be sharing a set of rooms in a suite. While Herb and Alice had the master suite, the rest of the siblings were organized by age. That meant that the two second eldest siblings, Abby and Clove, were together, then the middle siblings, Addy and Sage, then Kai and Basil, and then, Sav and Mace. Of course, Sage, Basil, and Mace weren’t at the manor over winter break, which meant Addy, Kai, and Sav didn’t have to share their suites. Each suite had two bedrooms, one per person. There were also two bathrooms, one per bedroom. There were some closets and finally, there were large shared rooms between each set of bedrooms. What the siblings chose to do with it was up to them, but the only siblings that had set up their shared room so far were Abby and Clove. All the other Scovilles were still off in Europe because they were still in college but didn’t need to get away to work on their papers the way that Clove did. Abby was a senior in college, as was Clove. Addy and Sage were both juniors, while Kai and Basil were sophomores and finally, Sav and Mace were freshmen.

  Of course, school came first, so the only sister that got to stay home was Abigail ‘Abby O’ Olivia, who was a senior, working on her thesis. Herb’s three youngest brothers had had to stay in Europe for their winter breaks, which meant all four of his younger brothers were back at Scoville Manor, except for the second eldest sibling. Herb’s second in command, Clove, had come to their small quiet town of Fallowedirt, Texas to escape some drama. The Scovilles seemed to attract trouble wherever they went. There was drama that awaited Clove at his college in England and back at the Scoville Manor in Oslo, Norway. These Norwegian polar bear shifters were expected to put on appearances but if Clove wasn’t there to have to perform, he couldn’t be watched like an animal in a zoo, now could he?

  While Addy, Kai, and Sav had been helping out Allie and Herb at The Feminine Mesquite’s storefront and kitchen on Fallowedirt’s Main Street, sparks had flown between Abby and Clove. While Allie and Herb had a typical Cinderella story, as it turned out the two had actually met over a year earlier at a New Year’s Eve party in New York City, Abby and Clove proved that inner beauty could tame the most savage of beasts…or of shifters.

  On Christmas, there had been the biggest reveal of all. Abby and Clove were fated mates, and Clove proposed to Abby. There would be a double wedding, with Abby and Clove getting married alongside Alice and Herb at the end of the coming summer. Herb had also gotten each of the Quincy Sisters a special gift of their own. Herb’s gift to Addy was like something out of a fairy tale.

  Ever since Addy had been young, she’d dreamed of attending the prestigious Bonimolean University, the wealthy university for shifters located in the English countryside. However, for money reasons, she hadn’t applied to take a junior semester abroad there. It was something that was going to have to remain a dream…or so she thought. Herb had pulled some strings and gotten Addy a place at Bonimolean University for the spring semester, paid her tuition, and made sure she was set up to attend once the winter break was over. Clove, as Herb’s second in command, was to make sure that Addy was all set up.

  Now, Addy and Clove were flying first class to London. They had had to make a transfer in New York City, but instead of going down regular terminals, Addy and Clove were whisked away by a woman in a formal outfit.

  “Where are we going?” asked Addy.

  “We’re going to my grandfather’s private plane,” explained Clove. “We’re headed to London, and then the plane is going to Oslo.”

  “To Oslo?” asked Addy. “Whatever for?”

  “Well, my brother Sage has to meet with my grandfather,” said Clove. “Our luggage will be transferred over to the plane, too, but…you didn’t bring much, did you?”

  Sage. Addy hadn’t thought of Sage in a while. He was handsome, like all the Scoville polars, but not exactly her type. He was what her English professors would call a ‘rake,’ a ‘rakehell,’ a ‘hellion,’ a debauched, decadent libertine. It was hard to believe that the European bad boy, who was always seen wearing black jeans, spiked belts, and with a streak of dye through his hair, was qualified to attend the prestigious Bonimolean University. The quiet, bookish Addy had never really talked to him. She had listened as he bragged about the various music festivals he had gone to and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. At least she’d only have to tolerate a single plane ride with him before they all went their separate ways.

  “Just the carry-on,” admitted Addy. “Your brother said to pack light.”

  “Because you’ll be outfitted in London,” said Clove. “Right. Makes sense.”

  “Are the outfits necessary?” asked Addy.

  “Yes,” said Clove. “Believe it or not, people do judge others on appearance. Trust me. The family stylist will have you looking like you belong at Bonimolean.”

  Clove and Addy were brought to a large, luxurious golf cart, black and chrome, and driven out to the tarmac. The private plane wasn’t as big as a regular plane, but the interior was sumptuous. Addy had never been in a private plane before. The Scoville plane was decked out. There were large arm chairs with seat belts around a big table, as well as a big TV and a couch. Of course, there were flight attendants. One was a very attractive young man, the other, a young woman. There was something about them that read ‘shifter’ to Addy, but she didn’t ask if her suspicions were correct, as that would’ve been considered to be quite rude. You didn’t have to be a Scoville to know that.

  Addy and Clove sat down at the table, and the male flight attendant came over.

  “Is there anything I can get you?” asked the flight attendant.

  “I’m good, Olaf, but…is this your first time flying?” Clove asked Addy.

  “No, I’m not just a country bumpkin,” said Addy.

  “Do you get sick or anything?” asked Clove.

  “Uh…I’ve never flown over the Atlantic, actually,” said Addy.

  “Tell you what, I’ll bring you some anti-sea sickness pills anyway,” said the flight attendant. “I use them, too, and I practically live on this plane.”

  “Thanks,” said Addy.

  The female flight attendant came out with two baskets. She passed one to Clove and one to Addy.

  “What’s this?” asked Addy.

  “A cashmere wrap and a pair of slippers for your flight,” explained the flight attendant. “Just in case you wanted something a little more comfortable.”

  “And these slippers are my size?” asked Addy.

  “But of course,” said the flight attendant. “Master Herb did inform us as to what size you would want…and we also have extras in different sizes in the supply cabin if you should need a different size.”

  “Woah, the Scovilles do think of everything,” said Addy. “Thanks!”

  By the time Addy had slipped into the charcoal gray slippers, the male flight attendant was back with the meds and a can of European ginger ale. However, what Addy saw next almost made her do a spit take.

  Tall. Blond, with a black streak through his hair. Black V-neck, black belt with black spikes, worn charcoal designer jeans, and black basketball sneakers. He had on a pair of silver aviator sunglasses and walked with a swagger that made it seem as if he had half a mind to go to the cockpit and fly the plane himself. Addy knew to expect him but hadn’t been prepared to see him again. It had been months since they’d seen each other last, at the engagement party, where she had caught him sneaking peeks at her when she had been sneaking peeks at him. As spacious as the private plane was, it suddenly felt altogether too small.

  It was Sage, Sage Scoville, the future gamma of the Scoville Polar Clan. He may have been a gamma, but
he was walking like an alpha. He walked straight over to the table and stood across from Addy.

  “Well hello, Miss Addison,” said Sage, removing his sunglasses and revealing blue eyes that almost seemed to flash from within. He gave her a killer grin as he extended his hand.

  “Sage,” said Addy curtly, shaking Sage’s hand before she turned to take her sweater off. She hadn’t expected to need to take it off, but…

  No sane person would refuse high-quality cashmere on a plane ride

  Her sweater was lumpier and itchier than the cashmere blanket cardigan

  Suddenly, Addy was feeling very, very hot, and needed to wear something more breathable…and would probably need another can of ginger ale!

  By turning, Addy could hide her blushing cheeks. She lifted the lumpy hand-me-down sweater up and realized that Clove and Sage had gone quiet…but then she felt someone’s hands on her. The grip was strong, moving her shirt over her body.

  “Don’t move,” whispered a familiar voice. “Trust me.” The breath was hot against her neck and made her neck hairs stand up on end.

  No way. Had Sage frikkin’ Scoville really just tried to pull up her shirt?

  Addy turned and resisted slapping Sage right in the face.

  “What in tarnation do you think you’re doing?” asked Addy. When she got angry, her Southern came out.

  “Your shirt was riding up,” said Clove, facing away from Addy, his cheeks bright pink. “He was pulling it back down before, err…well, you did that.” Clove pointed to where he thought Addy’s chest was, making a circular motion.

  Addy looked down. She hadn’t put her sweater back down when she’d turned. She’d forgotten what she frikkin’ hated about this sweater in particular. It always seemed to pull up her shirts whenever she wore it, which meant she was constantly readjusting herself to ensure that her shirt didn’t ride up…and as she had taken it off in the airplane, the shirt had ridden up, moving from coach to first class, revealing Addy’s ‘flight attendants,’ her two extra ‘carry-on’ bags, which were standing at attention in the cold of the cabin.

  That’s right. The only thing hiding Addison’s breasts from Sage (as Clove had been honorable enough to look away from her) was her bra, a bra that, of course, was picked for comfort, not style. It had worn elastic green bands and faded green lace lining surrounding the pale lilac fabric which had a penguin pattern on it.

  “This is what I’m doing,” said Sage, looking Addy in the eyes and reaching up to pull her shirt down, without looking down at her chest. It was the hardest thing Sage had ever done. His polar roared, and again, his eyes seemed to glow from within. The bear was telling Sage to go in for the kiss, but…

  Addy pulled away from Sage.

  “Well, give a girl some warning next time,” said Addy, turning and taking the sweater off while holding her shirt down with her other hand. Even with a hand keeping the shirt down in the front, the shirt rode up in the back, exposing the top of Addy’s underwear which sent a shiver down Sage’s spine that rivaled the chills felt during his Arctic hunts.

  Addy took her sweater off and slipped on the cashmere cardigan before putting on her headphones, plugging in her phone, and opening her eReader. She was so frikkin’ mortified. How the heck had she just exposed her boobs to Sage, and why did she have a feeling that he liked what he saw?

  This was going to be a long flight and an even longer semester.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  London: it was the city that so many cultural icons that Addison Quincy admired had either lived in, written about or both. This city was her oyster for three whole days, three days of exploring every nook and cranny, every bookshop and antique shop, that the foggy city had to offer. Addy and her sister’s boyfriend, Clove Scoville, had arrived in London three days before they had to meet with the Scoville family’s stylist. After all, now that Addy’s eldest sister, Alice, was marrying the eldest Scoville Brother, Herb Scoville, alpha of the Scoville clan, the Quincy Sisters had become part of the Scoville family. Over winter vacation, Addy’s second oldest sister, Abigail, had fallen for the second eldest Scoville Brother, Clove Scoville. On Christmas, Clove had proposed to Abigail, and Herb had given each of the Quincy Sisters a special gift. The gift that Herb gave Addison, the middle Quincy Sister, was a semester at the prestigious Bonimolean University, the college of choice for Europe’s elite shifter families. Bonimolean University had enjoyed the patronage of the Norwegian Scoville Polar Clan for centuries and was glad to do the Scovilles a favor.

  The only thing that Addison had to worry about was…well, it wasn’t important. Bonimolean University was big. There was no frikkin’ way she’d run into him if she didn’t want to.

  After days of visiting museums and galleries with her sister’s boyfriend, it was time for a visit to the Scoville family stylist. Now that Addison was practically shifter royalty, given that her two eldest sisters were engaged to two of the most eligible shifters in Europe, she had to look the part, and that meant a visit to the posh Carnaby Street.

  Clove and Addison got out of their cab and Clove led them to what looked like an abandoned storefront, boarded up, with yellowed newspaper pages covering the windows.

  “Are you sure we’re at the right place?” asked Addy. “It looks kinda…abandoned.”

  “Trust me. I’ve been here a thousand times,” said Clove before pressing a shiny brass doorbell.

  “A thousand?” asked Addy, a hand on her hip.

  “Hyperbole. You Americans are great at that, aren’t you?” asked Clove.

  The door opened.

  “Clove,” said the slim woman with nut brown hair. She was wearing heels that nearly made her taller than Clove. She brought Clove in and gave him a peck on each cheek.

  “Sabine,” said Clove. “A pleasure, as always. And this is…”

  “Addison,” said Sabine, crossing her arms and looking over Addy.

  Addy felt like a piece of meat.

  “Can I help you with something?” asked Addy.

  “I’m Sabine, Sabine Durand,” said Sabine, extending a hand. Her bracelets jingled.

  Addy shook her hand.

  “Addison Quincy,” said Addy.

  “Come in, let’s walk and talk,” said Sabine.

  Addy stepped in first, and Clove followed, closing the door.

  The interior of the store was just as shabby looking as the front…but Sabine led them along a hall that led to a door that had light coming out of the edges.

  “Right this way,” said Sabine.

  She opened the door, and Addison and Clove entered. When Addison saw the room, she had to put a hand over her mouth.

  The room was resplendent with a soft, plush white carpet. The cabinets were made of white wood and frosted white plastic. There were racks and racks of clothing.

  An assistant, who looked shifter to Addison, was wearing all black.

  “Can I get you some coffee, tea?” asked the assistant.

  “Tea’s fine,” said Addison.

  “Coffee,” said Clove.

  “Please, do take a seat,” said Sabine, motioning to a large white couch. She sat down on the gray velvet armchair across from the couch.

  “Thank you for making time to see us on such short notice,” said Clove.

  “Are you kidding? After all the Scovilles have done for us?” asked Sabine.

  “‘Us’?” asked Addison.

  “My mother, Lauren Durand, works for the Scovilles,” said Sabine. “They sent me to fashion school in Paris when I came of age, and before that, I was sent to the same private schools as Herb and the rest of the Scovilles.”

  “Lauren, Lauren…wait, the same Lauren that works at Mesquite Manor?” asked Addison.

  “You know her?” asked Sabine, lighting up.

  “Of course,” said Addison. “Did she tell you how hard she tanned Clove’s hide over break?”

  “Not yet, but I’ll have to ask her about it,” said Sabine. “Well, Addison, have you ever worked
with a stylist before?”

  “Nope,” admitted Addison. “I’m a little worried that nothing here is going to look good on me.”

  “Trust me, you’ll fit in at Bonimolean,” said Sabine. “You think that Herb and the guys pick their own clothes out? No frikkin’ way. You should’ve seen them before I gave them their makeovers. I’ve even worked with your sister, Alice. She and Herb flew out last fall for a weekend.”

  “So, do I have to wear fancy dresses?” asked Addison. “I don’t care about clothes.”

  “If you don’t care about clothes, then why does it matter what you wear?” asked Sabine.

  “You got me there,” said Addison. “I don’t want anything high maintenance, I guess.”

  “You’re the kind of girl that showers, puts her hair in a ponytail, and goes to class, right?” asked Sabine.

  “Exactly,” said Addison.

  “You want things that are practical, but you still want to be taken seriously and fit in,” said Sabine. “A mix and match wardrobe, where you can pull out random items and have a good-looking outfit, is ideal for you…and of course, you need some extra things for dealing with the English weather, and for events.”

  “Events?” asked Addison. “I’m not here to party.”

  “Trust me, things will be…expected of you,” said Sabine. “You represent your sister and your family. You are the only Quincy Sister in Europe right now. There are expectations.”

  “More like unexpectations,” said Addy. “What sort of events do I need clothing for?”

  “You need a good selection of outfits so you can have something on hand for every situation,” said Sabine. “And any time you wear one, just put it in your laundry, and it’ll get swapped out for another appropriate outfit.”