Page 84 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
“No need to apologize. By the way, I liked what you said in the meeting today.”
I quickly lift my head. “You did?”
“Yes. And you taught me a thing or two.”
I perk up. “Like what?” I really want to know the answer to my question. The thought of teaching Hercules Valentine anything excites me in unusual ways.
“My brother’s been pushing his flying-car idea for months. I’ve been shooting him down. But I've been wrong.” He leans just a little bit closer to me as though he has a secret that he wants only me to hear. “I know that now, thanks to you.”
The bartender sets my drink in front of Hercules. “Here you are,” she says, looking at him like she wants to maul him with her tongue.
He promptly takes a tiny square napkin off the top of a stack of them and puts it in front of me. Then he carefully sets the drink on top of it. More than our eyes are connecting, our souls merge.
“Enjoy, Lark,” he says in a velvety voice.
I smirk, energized with a confidence I’ve never before been able to find when I was around Hercules. “Thanks, I will.” My tone is just as syrupy as his.
Now his smile is big, bright, and only for me. “So, Lark, you’re from Washington State, right?
A little saliva goes down the wrong pipe, and I cough my head off. “Sorry,” I repeat as I try to stop embarrassing myself.
“I was curious about you, so I read your file. I hope you don't mind.”
“No, not at all.” I say in a tight voice. I clear my throat some more.
Hercules raises a finger. “Bartender, can I get some water?”
Fist to my lips, I can’t stop another fit of coughing.
The bartender starts to place the glass of ice water in front of Hercules, but he directs her to put it in front of me. I’ve never felt so special as I take a drink.So, this is how it is being out and about with Hercules when he’s sober.
I guzzle until I’m sure there will be no more coughing.
“Are you good?” he asks as I lower the glass.
I want to mug his lips with a kiss, but I nod instead. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.”
We stare at each other. My breathing has sped up, and it feels as though we’re the only ones in the room.
“So,” I say just as he begins to speak. We chuckle. “You first.”
“Ladies first.” He’s smirking, and I close my mouth to stop myself from drooling.
“I didn’t expect you to be here tonight.” I have nothing better to say—I just wanted to speak before he started asking questions I didn’t want to answer. And now he’s looking at me as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m happy he’s here or not. “I mean, I like that you came. I just didn’t expect it.”
His eyes narrow a pinch. “You like that I’m here?”
I nod. My neck is warm, and I can feel beads of sweat rise to the surface of my skin.
His face comes closer. “So, who would’ve known that Lake Clark is a well-known artist.” He pulls the sides of his gorgeous mouth down. “She’s kind of famous, actually.”
I chuckle—not at the notion that Lake is a famous artist but because I’ve never seen Hercules so relaxed, so casual. “I know. Almost every piece is sold.”
Yet again, his eyes smolder as his gaze drops down to my collarbone but no lower. “I thought capturing you with ones and zeros was brilliant.”
“Yeah,” I say, simpering. “Me too.”
