Paranormal Dating Agency: Her Mane Men (Kindle Worlds Novella)

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Latin Goddess Press, Inc.. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Paranormal Dating Agency remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Latin Goddess Press, Inc., or their affiliates or licensors.

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  Her Mane Men

  By

  Ever Coming

  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

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter One

  Crazy.

  Just standing here, was crazy, but it wasn’t the first crazy in all of this.

  I had to be certifiably crazy to have agreed to meet with Gerri and her dating agency in the first place.

  Don’t you dare chicken out.

  I stared at my message from Roxanne, trying to decide how best to respond. I was fairly sure telling her to pipe down was not the best reply considering she was why I was here in the first place.

  My bestie, Roxanne, sent me a gift certificate and an appointment with the matchmaker already set up as my birthday gift, or I probably never would have set foot in Gerri’s office. I might be alone, but alone was better than being eaten by a serial killer-cannibal or whoever it is who is loserish enough to need a dating service. Sadly, I fell into that loserish-enough category.

  I’m not. I’m even wearing the stupid red dress you told me to wear.

  She’d been right, though. It had the magical ability to hug all my curves without making me look like I was wearing a bologna skin.

  Are you still at home deciding?

  That was the problem with best friends, even those a thousand miles away. They sometimes knew you too well. She wasn’t wrong in her assumption, it was pretty much how I rolled, but I knew that in this case she wasn’t going to let me out of things that easily.

  Roxanne always had been a pushy one, probably why I loved her so and why she called incessantly until I agreed to go to the dating service and then again until I promised to actually make it to the date I’d agreed to. My very pregnant friend insisted I would wind up as blissfully married as she if I’d only accept her gift. I finally agreed, but only after reminding her that for all we knew, she would’ve met her hubby anyway.

  Fine. She wouldn’t have, but that didn’t make me feel any more comfortable meeting up with a stranger after having the oddest “interview” I could imagine for a matchmaking service. Goodness, I ate homemade cookies and pretty much was asked nothing personal. We talked about her love of baking and her newest assistant because it was apparently a thing that she kept losing them to finding their true loves. She mentioned more than once that she had many clients who liked woman with my look, which I had a feeling was more about my size than the librarian chic I sported.

  That in and of itself should have had me running, or so my brain said. My loneliness, however, had me sitting put, nibbling on a cookie as she kept on talking. Truth was, if her services were based on looks, I wasn’t a good fit. I didn’t want a fetish dude who loved excessive curviness without looking beyond that. I was gorgeous, no matter what the fashion magazines said about double-digit-sized women. I wanted someone who’d be interested in what I had to offer and not what I looked like.

  I had just about convinced myself to leave when she clapped her hands with glee, telling me she had not one, but two guys worth my time, or, in her words, perfect for me: Curtis and Parker. They both had interesting jobs, Curtis in science and Parker in tech. Being a nerdling myself, I loved that and stayed put as she regaled me with their awesomeness. Then she showed me their pictures, and I caved.

  For all I said and truly believed about not wanting someone to pick me based on looks, I had to admit, that was what pushed me over the edge and into the realm of sure, I’ll give it a go. It wasn’t even their muscles and hot nerd qualities that had me all in a fluster, either. It was Parker’s eyes and Curtis’s smile that had me. Of course, Gerri told me she only showed me the pictures so I knew who they were when we met, so I wouldn’t be apprehensive blah blah blah, but we both knew what she was doing. That woman could be persuasive.

  I’m here.

  Although, from the length of time it had taken me to reply, I doubted she believed me.

  Is he hot? And if you’re there, why are you on your phone?

  Let me rephrase. I’m here-ish.

  Technically, I stood across the street from one of the fanciest restaurant in town, Leo’s, waiting for my first date. Parker had called within an hour of my leaving the interview, which was either the sweetest thing ever or completely creeperish. I hadn’t decided yet, but before I knew it. I was agreeing to a date the very next day. Made it easy for me to decide which of the guys to date first, because I wasn’t the kind of girl to date around. Not that my scruples got me far. They got me to the point where I was agreeing to use a dating service, of all things.

  Well un-ish it then.

  And there was the Roxanne I’d known most of my life. Her bossiness could be frustrating at times, but, in that moment, I needed it. I’d never admit it to her, but I had been minutes away from calling dinner off and feigning a headache. I could get my own dates. If I put myself out there, anyway, which was probably why Roxanne did this in the first place. I rarely did, and when those times did occur it was usually an accident.

  Yes, Mom.

  I could practically see her rolling her eyes. I missed her so. I was happy for her amazing new life, but why did it have to be on the other side of the country?

  Seriously, girl, have a good time and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

  I couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Roxy was the wild to my boring. Pretty much anything I thought was over the top, she’d done. Of course, this was my idea of over the top, so the bar was low.

  So, basically, no sky diving.

  It was the one thing I knew she opposed, although I bet if her hubby asked her to, she would. She would do anything for him, and vice versa. Their relationship was sickeningly sweet. I would never admit it to her, but I was all kinds of jealous. Not of her man—he was made for her to be sure— but of what they shared. I wanted that. I just didn’t believe a dating service would be the means to that end.

  Yeah, that’s about it. Love ya.

  You, too.

  I stashed my phone in my clutch before inhaling deeply, crossing the street, and approaching the front door where I was instantly greeted by a doorman. This was so not the same kind of place as the diner I frequented.

  “Your party is waiting for you, ma’am.” You know because once you hit thirty you’re old. I bit my tongue, knowing he was going for polite and not insulting. Besides, I had more important things on my mind.

  “My party?” I asked as I followed him like a lemming. It felt rude not to, given he was doing his job, even though for all I knew he was taking me to a wedding, or, given the quietness of the place, more likely a funeral or an accountants’ convention. Sadly, I had been to both recently.
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  He stopped short, turning slightly to face me, “You are Ms. Madeline Solaris.” It was less of a question and more of a Seriously, you’re questioning me?

  “I am.” I lowered my head in embarrassment, which was all kinds of ridiculous given the circumstances.

  “Then, your party is this way.”

  I scampered behind him as we wove our way through the little dining room, where a few couples already enjoyed their meals. I’d never been here before, preferring my restaurants to include prices on their menus, but, taking in the ambiance, I could see the appeal. The room was very homelike, if your home had Tiffany lamps, beautiful art, and a restaurant that probably cost a fortune. Somehow, it still managed to feel cozy and relaxed. I could see the appeal, especially with so few tables. There was something to be said for being able to hear your dinner companion. Maybe. I hoped.

  “Right this way, ma’am,” he called to me, as I inadvertently stopped to gawk at a stunning photograph of the leaves in full color during autumn, my favorite time of year.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled as he opened a door and walked inside.

  As I followed I was expecting to see a secondary dining room but was instead greeted by a private dining room with exactly one table, the man I recognized to be Parker rising from his seat as we made our way over.

  “Your party, ma’am. Louis will be by to let you know the evening specials in a moment.” And, with that, he left, giving us not so much as a backward glance.

  “I’m Madeline.” I started to give him my hand, before chickening out and leaving it at my side. His picture had done him zero justice. He stood there, dressed more casually than the place dictated, which was a relief since my dress was nice enough but much more retro than high-end.

  “Parker.” He pulled out a seat, which I took, my nerves getting the better of me as my knee began to bounce under the table.

  “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  My head snapped up as the man I recognized to be Curtis strolled into the room. What the freck had I just walked into?

  Chapter Two

  “You were supposed to wait until she got settled in and comfortable.” Parker spoke over my head as if that made his words inaudible to me. Normally, I’d be pissed off and giving my two cents if someone treated me as if I wasn’t there, but, as it was, I could barely breathe. I was in a room, with two over-the-top sexy guys on a what? A date. That should be freaking me the heck out, but for some reason, it was doing the opposite. It was intriguing me, even though it shouldn’t.

  “Why are you both here?” I all but whispered? “I should go.” I made no attempt to leave, my words a façade to even myself. I felt like I was in a tailspin of confused and intrigued and safe, which was the dumbest of the lot. How could I feel safe in a room with two men I didn’t know who somehow found me via a dating service. Goodness, we were in an isolated room at that. If this were a movie, I’d have been yelling at the screen, telling me to get the freck outta there, yet, my butt was glued to the seat, zero warning signs going off in my head.

  “Please wait us out.” Curtis sat in the seat across from me at the third table setting, the one I hadn’t noticed as I entered the room. “If you want to go after that, we’ll even call you a cab.” He sounded so sincere. I had no idea what their end game was, but I could do that. Listen.

  “We’re in a public place with exceptional food,” Parker added as he, too, took his seat. We were evenly spread around a smallish round table that could comfortably fit four, which worked out well because I could easily get out of the way if they made a move I was uncomfortable with, which I had a strong feeling they would not. Ever. What was it about these two?

  “Parker, you asked me out. You. Not you and Curtis.” My bravado was a big old fail. I came across hurt instead of mad. I wasn’t even really hurt. I was—I had no idea what I was but it was unsettling. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? What are you guys, anyway, part of some religious cult?” Even as the words escaped my mouth, I heard the ridiculousness of them. Some cults collected wives, sure, but not by going through a well-reputed dating agency and eating in exclusive dining establishments. At least not according to any docudramas I’d seen, and I was addicted to those suckers.

  “Madeline—” Parker began.

  “Maddie,” I offered. Only my boss and the doctor’s office called me Madeline. It was a fine enough name, but felt too impersonal for whatever this discussion was turning out to be.

  “Maddie, when I asked you, I thought Gerri had told you we were a combo deal and then—”

  Crap on a cracker, she did tell me. Well tell me-ish, anyway. She said she had two perfect men for me. I assumed, like any rational human being might assume, she meant in a row, but she meant at the same time. Roxanne was so getting a call, no matter how late it was. What kind of an agency was she running? And, more importantly, why wasn’t I running?

  “And then I told him he was a fool and to call you back.” Curtis chuckled before taking a long drink from his water and, darn it, my eyes were glued to his lips as he did so. Roxanne was right about at least one thing. I needed a date, and bad, if some possible creeper drinking his water had me so frazzled in a good way.

  “Your wine?” A waiter startled me, now standing beside Parker with a proffered bottle of wine, one I assumed they’d ordered before my arrival. He looked nervous, as if he were catching us in the middle of something, which I guess he kind of was.

  Maybe this was entirely a dream. If so, I best take advantage of it, but all signs pointed to it not being one, so, instead, I squeezed my thighs together and vowed not to look at either of their lips again until I figured this mess out.

  “Just leave it on the table with the opener, Louis.” Parker waved him off, much to Louis’s relief from the look of things. Did they come here often with women? Was I just a flavor of the week? Suck. Maybe this was all about the kink. I was not going to be a fetish girl. Nope. Not gonna happen.

  “Yes, sir.” He scampered off as Parker opened the wine, offering us both some before pouring his own. Drinking wasn’t the best of options given the uncertainty of the situation, but none of the options looked both good and rational, so I brought the glass to my lips to take a sip, which turned into half the glass.

  As I put it down, both their eyes fixated on my lips. At least it wasn’t just me. I sighed leaning back into my chair before confessing, “She sort of kind of did tell me, but I misunderstood. I thought she had two men for me to pick between, not two men into weird kinky shit.”

  Although that option wasn’t completely off the table anymore, much to my chagrin, or was it excitement. What was wrong with me?

  “That’s not how it is.”

  “Not at all.” Curtis finished Parker’s thought.

  The two of them were so different looking, yet similar. They both sported the hot nerd look, their muscles visible beneath their shirts, and held an air of sexuality that even I, Little Miss Never Dates, was wanting in on. But, where Parker’s hair was dark and his eyes green, Curtis was a ginger with a smexy beard and blue eyes. Both super yummy, not that my mind should go there.

  “Are you telling me you aren’t into kinky three-way sex, and that you just both like to hang out with the same woman over lively conversation and fine cuisine?” And why did the thought of that being true disappoint? I mean, sure, I liked a good meal as much as the next gal, but my mind had already started playing reels of porn featuring the three of us. I’d blame it on the wine, but it started before then, even if I’d been denying it to myself or attempting to, anyway.

  “You’re doing this all wrong,” Curtis scolded. He seemed to be the more serious of the two, which I never would’ve guessed with how formal Parker had been on our call.

  “Fine, you do it.”

  “Parker and I are a pair.”

  My eyes nearly fell out of my head. A pair. Here I was thinking of getting sweaty with them both, and they were already together. As if to strengthen the reality of their statement
, the reached across the table and held hands. If they were a couple, why were they….

  “Holy shit, you’re looking for a baby mama. Nope, my babies will be for me, not other couples, thank you very much.” And with that, I finished my wine, ’cause, fuck it, I’m not a walking incubator. Matchmaking service. It was supposed to be a matchmaking service, not a surrogacy ring. Was that even legal in our state?

  “And I was the one doing it wrong,” Parker scoffed as I forced myself up from the table. How had this evening gone from anticipation, to weirdville, to filled with potential, to my being a handmaiden in half an hour?

  Parker’s hand landed on my bare shoulder, and I stopped in my tracks, no longer trying to find my way to the door, his touch holding me in place not by force but by comfort and, shit to Cleveland, desire.

  “No, Maddie, we aren’t looking for a surrogate or to have a fun weekend in bed and done. We’re looking for a third. An equal.”

  “Wait, you’re saying you want a third person in your couple, like a trouple? Is that a thing?” His words made no sense, yet they did. Could they really be looking for a third, not for babies, but for more? Wasn’t that only in books or on bad reality television?

  “A triad, and, yeah, it’s a thing.”

  “How would that even work?” And why was I even considering trying to date two men who were dating each other? And that caused the porn reel to change to watching the two of them. Damn, my imagination was hot. I found myself inadvertently leaning into Parker and snapped away, showing my concession to hearing this out by finding my seat again and drinking my water in hopes of cooling myself down.

  “You’re not running.” I swore I felt his lips brush the top of my head before he, too, returned to his chair.

  “See, she’s not running, Parker. I told you Gerri wouldn’t steer us wrong.”

  “She’s not running because she’s in shock.” There was a slight lilt in his voice, and I was pretty sure he was teasing, a conjecture he sealed with his wink to me.