Page 2 of Serenity & the Hermit
"That would be amazing. The more the merrier." I pull my wallet from my purse, but she waves me off.
“No charge for the first taste,” she says with a smile, so instead, I hand her a business card with the name of the studio on it.
"Here's my card with all the class info and my number. Come to which ever one you and your friends like."
"Sounds perfect! Thank you, ah..."
"Serenity," I say, holding out my hand to shake hers. "Serenity by name, serene by nature. And thankyou.I’m about to get the energy hit of mylife."
Giggling, she pushes the tray laden with my food toward me. “Well, it’s been lovely meeting you, Serenity. Come by any time. I’d love it if we could be friends.”
A massive grin curves my mouth. “I’d really love that too, Yvette. Thank you.”
NELSON
Shifting my truck into park, I pull on the handbrake and glance over at the post office with a grunt. It's always so damn busy in there and I hate busy. Busy means people, and people and I don't mix. If I had it my way, I'd never have to be around another human besides family again. It’s not even like anything terrible happened to make me like that either, I simply don’t enjoy hustle and bustle when I can have peace and quiet instead. But when you pull a shotgun on the delivery guy by mistake one time, it turns out they become unwilling to deliver to your mountain cabin. Now I have to come into town at least once every couple of weeks to get my mail. It puts me in a bad mood.
Opening the door, my well-worn boot hits the road, and as my head rises above the roof of my truck, a mother gasps and pulls her child as far away from me as possible. I make eye contact with her and curl my lip. Not because I want to scare her—well, maybe I do a little—but because I hate that just because I'm huge and a little rough around the edges I get treated like a monster. If they bothered to give me even a tiny chance, they'd find out I'm actually a pretty decent guy. No wonder I don't come into town much.
I do my best to mind my own business as I wait in line once I'm inside. By the time I reach the counter, they already have my mail prepared, held together tightly with a red rubber band.
“Here you go Mr... V... Val... Valentine,” the clerk stammers out.
He sets the mail on top of a small parcel and pushes it all toward me, his eyes locked on mine like he's petrified I’ll do something terrible if he looks away. What am I to this guy? A velociraptor or something? I don't even think I've met this kid before. But hey, my reputation obviously precedes me.
“Thanks,” I grunt, scooping up my mail then abruptly turning around, ignoring the whispers and stares from this small selection of the citizens of Whisper Valley. There's supposed to be this thing called small town hospitality, but I guess they skipped that when it came to tolerating me. Every other Valentine in town though? They absolutely love them. But then, there's a lot of alcohol flowing whenever they're around since they run the local bar.
Pushing through the door back into the street, I flick through my mail, separating the bills from the junk while also wondering what the hell is in the package I've got under my arm. It's pretty hefty, and there's a scent coming from it that seems kind of sweet and floral. Weird.
I shove the mail I intend to keep in my back pocket and place the junk between my teeth as I shift my attention to the box. But I don't get to the examining part before a soft wall of flesh collides with my hard one and causes the whole lot to go clattering to the ground. I'm pretty sure I hear something breaking there.
“What the hell?,” I grumble, spitting tiny bits of junk mail from my tongue since I seem to have managed to bite off a chunk of pamphlet.
“Oh God. I'm so sorry,” the brunette gasps, crouching to the ground and scooping up the fallen mail. She shakes the box and grimaces as she hands it back to me. “I hope it's supposed to sound like that.”
I growl because it is not supposed to sound like that at all—not that I know what it is. I just know that it didn't sound like that before.
“Why weren't you watching where you were going?” I snap.
Pale blue eyes look up at me from behind too-long bangs, and suddenly my chest goes tight. I can barely breathe.What the…
“I'm really sorry,” she says again. “I’ll pay for any damage I caused. I've just … I've got a lot on my mind, and I suppose I was off with the fairies.”
“Well, try staying with the humans in future.” I step to the side, intent on getting back to my truck, but the air sucking woman with long, silky dark hair and sinful curves feels the need to follow me.
“Why would I do that?” she says. “This world is full of rules and responsibilities but in here” —she taps her head—“anything is possible.”
I glance at her across the hood of my beat-up truck. “Guess I'll take your word for it,” I say, tossing the package in my truck before getting in after it and taking off, adjusting the uncomfortable ache between my legs as I do.
SERENITY
Despite the post office being busy, it doesn’t take too long before I’m at the counter collecting my package. I thank the timidly smiling desk clerk then turn away, looking for the sender so I can take a guess at what’s inside. That’s when I see it.
“Ahhh,” I start, turning back before he can call the next customer up. “This isn’t mine.”
“What?” He pushes his glasses back up his nose with one finger.
“This package. It isn’t mine.” I place it back on the counter and point to the addressee. “This is for a Nelson Valentine.” At first, I think that name is simply lovely and romantic sounding, then I notice the way the clerk pales and swallows hard before he shakes his head.
