Page 142 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I

Now she’s looking at me with wide eyes.

“I don’t want you to lie to him,” I whisper.

“Is that Lark?” he asks.

She groans. “We’ll talk, honey.”

I raise my eyebrows, taking notice of how lovingly she referred to Mason as honey. Their relationship has progressed fast. But maybe not. I think they’ve been in love with each other since long before I arrived. They’ve also been in a relationship—only he was her boss. Being romantically linked is merely an evolution of their bond.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“It’s nothing life-threatening,” Lake says.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Finally, she springs to her feet and cracks the door. “Mason. It’s girl stuff, hon’. We’ll fill you in when we’re ready.”

“Is it Herc?” he tries to whisper.

My neck is bent, and I’m staring at the water, refusing to look over at Lake as she whispers, “Honey-bun, please give us space. It’s girl stuff. Not girl-girl-guy stuff.”

He chuckles tenderly. “Okay, rabbit.”

Rabbit?

They kiss softly before she closes the door again. I bet her legs just went weak and her head is spinning. I remember that feeling. My tears start up again.

“It’s Paisley, right?” Lake whispers.

I nod jerkily.

“Paisley, you have to pull it together so we can figure this out. Really, it’s not as bad as you think. At least not for me.”

But I know who it is bad for, and he’s in the other room.

Lake and I are staring into each other’s eyes. A slow and sympathetic smile spreads across her lips. “Are you feeling better? Warmer?”

I wiggle my toes and press my fingertips together. “Yeah. I am.”

“Good.” Her tone is tender. “Then let’s get you dressed. I’ll make us some tea, and then you’ll tell me everything. Can you do that?”

I inhale deeply enough to fill my lungs. At the end of the exhale, I whisper, “Yes.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

The Aftermath

Hercules Valentine

Standing in front of the bar, after serving Nero and Eden, Paisley’s college roommate, glasses of my finest rum, I answer a call from Mason.

The first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “Herc, what did you do to Lark?”

Trapped in seconds of not knowing how to answer, I take stock of my surroundings. This is my favorite space in the penthouse. The U-shaped sectional is masculine dark-red leather. Beyond the windows and past the lit swimming pool that cycles through changing colors, the view captures a slice of the park and mostly skyscrapers. None of the phallic buildings are the same height or shape. Nor do they rise high enough to reach me. Normally, I like that feeling. Tonight, I don’t.

I turn away from the scene and face the reflection in the mirror attached the wall.

I caught Paisley in the act.What the hell was she looking for?