Page 179 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
Hercules’s eyes are glassy as he gazes at me with pure adoration. “Let me see that?” He holds out his hand.
My heart tap dances as I give him the list and his fingers graze mine.
Then I curl my legs, making myself comfortable, and I study his amazing profile as he reads my duties.
I feel like tucking strands of his hair behind his ear. But instead, I ask, “Did you buy Rain a ring?”
He doesn’t take his eyes off the list. “No ring.”
I restrain a smile. That’s good to know.
Hercules looks at me, and all I feel is love. “This is no big deal, Paisley. Someone can be paid to do all of this.”
I freeze momentarily. “Pay someone?”
“Yeah,” he says as if it’s no big thing.
“I don’t think Lake would like that.”
“She just wants it done, babe.”
We look at each other, stunned, both recognizing his Freudian slip.
He clears his throat and positions himself on the edge of the sofa. “I know someone. She plans all of my mother’s events.”
“But this is not an event. These are bridesmaid’s duties.”
“She does whatever I pay her to do. As a matter of fact—” He takes his phone out of his pants pocket and dials a number. He winks at me as he puts his device against his ear. It must be ringing as we stare at each other.
I want him. Gosh, I want him. Was it wise to agree to work with him?
He licks his lips.
Damn.
“Hi, Connie. It’s Hercules Valentine.” He looks past me and out the window at a view that’s far more unremarkable than the one he owns. “I’m well. Very well.” He glances at me and winks, then his focus is back out the window. “Listen, I need you to plan a coed bachelorette and bachelor party. Also a”—he squints as he reads the list—“a bridal shower, rehearsal dinner, and coordinate gowns, tuxedos…” He pauses then smiles at me when he says, “Yes, the whole shebang.”
I’m beaming at him. Love. That’s all I feel is pure love, appreciation, and admiration.
Goodness gracious. I’m in trouble.
Suddenly, he’s frowning. “I’m the best man. And I’m…” His eye contact deepens as he looks at me. “Great friends with the maid of honor.” Smirking, he winks at me.
My heart pounds.
“Immediately,” he says.
He pauses again. “You’ll need to rinse and repeat for another wedding.” His frown is back as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “No. Another friend’s. I’m only calling about friends, Connie. That’s it.”
Heat spreads across my face as he scowls at the coffee table.
“We don’t know the dates yet. But I’ll put you in contact with the couples. Just send me the bills.” He nods sharply as if Connie could see him. “Thank you.”
The call ends, and Hercules puts his phone and the list on top of my coffee table.
“Now. You’re all mine,” he says.
Hot and bothered and heart beating out of my chest, I stare at him like a deer in headlights.
