Page 23 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)

His brow wrinkles. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re very incisive, Nicolette. That idea you brought to me last week about the men’s skin care line was genius.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know why I’ve never thought of that before. We’re completely missing the opportunity to market to half the population.”

A sense of elation fills my chest at his praise. “Thank you. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, but Aquarius wasn’t receptive to the idea at all.”

Helix makes a scoffing sound. “Their loss. Like you pointed out, men’s skin is different from women’s, so a dedicated line for guys is definitely a niche we can fill.

” He shrugs. “Guys need clean faces and moisturized skin too. I actually use our women’s line, but I make myself a batch in the lab without the added girly scents. ”

“I’ve been focused more on actual skin care, but adding some masculine scents would be a great idea.”

He smiles at me, and Jesus, he’s absurdly attractive.

“We brainstorm well together. Do you have any ideas for our new fragrances for next year?” When I hesitate, his smile falters, and his blue eyes bore into mine with hypnotic force. “What’s that look?”

“I do have an idea, but it’s… different.”

He never breaks eye contact. “Different is good.”

Bolstered, I ask, “What if we added something that evokes pleasant feelings?”

“You mean like pheromones?”

I wave my hand at him. “No, those have been done to death, and that’s more to attract another person. I was thinking more like an additive that gives the actual wearer a sense of contentment. Makes them happy to be in their own skin, not just because they smell good but because they feel good.”

Helix’s eyes defocus for a second while he contemplates what I’ve said. “Like that calm, content feeling you get from an oxytocin release?”

“Exactly!” I tell him, smacking his bicep, which is much firmer than I would have expected. The good doctor apparently doesn’t skip out on arm day at the gym.

His head bobs up and down a few times, and I can practically hear his brain whirring.

“I like that. But oxy is difficult to administer in its organic form. It has to be spritzed directly up the nose, and even then, only a small amount will cross the blood-brain barrier. Not enough to actually make much difference. There was a study I read about somewhere… maybe from Ireland?”

“Scotland,” I correct. “And you’re right. It would have to be something absorbed directly into the skin, something that would work through the bloodstream instead of needing to reach the cerebrospinal fluid, which is where you usually find neurotransmitters.”

His excitement leaves with the slight droop of his shoulders. “So it’s impossible.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Not necessarily. I’ve been working on synthesizing something that resembles oxytocin but is effective in the bloodstream.”

Helix’s eyes widen in amazement as he guides me to a forest-green bench, and we sit on the slatted surface. “You’re shitting me.”

With a giggle, I assure him, “I’m not. It actually works pretty well. On me anyway. I haven’t tried it on any test subjects, but I can show you the formula and the mechanism if you’re interested.”

His smile is everything. “You’d share it with me? Like we could actually use it for our new fragrance line?”

“Of course. Why would I develop something I didn’t want to go to market?” I nibble the corner of my lip. “There’s one small problem. It works well on its own, but it doesn’t smell very good. When I try to add scents to it, it loses its effectiveness.”

He leans against the back of the bench and stares out at the pond. “Huh. I’d have to see the formula, but maybe if we put our two brains together, we could come up with a solution.” His face jerks to mine. “That is, if you want my help. I didn’t mean to assume.”

“I’d love to collaborate our minds,” I tell him, leaving out my innermost thought—I wouldn’t mind collaborating some other body parts as well.

Good lord, I need help.

Slapping his thighs, Helix grins. “Great. This calls for a celebration. Have we walked enough to deserve dessert since we turned down the banana pudding?”

I quirk one eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

He glances behind us. “There’re a couple food trucks back there. I know the gelato place is really good.”

Though the sun is dipping and not full force, it’s still August in Texas, and a cool treat would hit the spot. “That actually sounds great.”

He pulls up the gelato truck’s website on his phone, and we peruse the flavors.

“The pina colada one sounds good to me,” I decide.

Pushing to his feet, he says, “You relax, and I’ll go get it.”

When he’s gone, I slump down on the bench and cross my legs at the ankles. A breeze drifts through the oak trees, and I close my eyes, allowing it to cool my warm skin.

Just when I get completely relaxed, my phone rings with a FaceTime notification… from my mother. I jerk upright. What if something happened to Pop?

“Ma?” I answer swiftly, waiting to see her face appear. When it does, I’m surprised to see Angelica sitting beside her. They’re both smiling, but that doesn’t put me at ease. “What’s wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong?” she purrs, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. “Can’t a mother just call her daughter?”

Seeing as how I moved to Houston over a month ago and she hasn’t called me a single time, I’m inclined to say no. But I don’t say that out loud.

“Sure. I was just worried. Is Pop okay?”

Ma tilts her head and smiles. “Of course he is. We just wanted to call and invite you to a party.”

“My and Rory’s engagement party,” Angelica adds.

“Oh. How… nice,” I reply, confused at this invitation.

“I told your father you probably wouldn’t be able to come, but he said we should still call to invite you,” Ma replies, her lips tight, and suddenly, I get it. They don’t really want me there, but Pop insisted I be invited.

Something stubborn rises up in me, and I add a mental spit-shine to my spine. “I’d love to come. When is it?”

It’s almost imperceptible, but I see the disapproval in their eyes, and now I’m even more determined to go. Don’t ask me why. Maybe it’s my way of saying fuck you to the both of them. They’re being forced to invite me, and I’m damn well going to accept.

“Welllll,” Angelica draws out with mock-sweetness, “I’d love to see you, but the party is couples only. Would you be able to find a date by next weekend?”

“N-next weekend?” I stammer. Shit.

“It’s fine if you can’t come,” Ma pitches in quickly, pretending to be disappointed, though I can see the glee shimmering in her eyes. “I’m sure you’re busy with your work stuff and haven’t had time to make friends.”

Angelica snickers. “Or a boyfriend. Can you even imagine Nicolette with a boyfriend, Ma?” They both laugh like we’re in the middle of an Eddie Murphy standup routine.

My shiny spine dulls in a split second, and I can feel my confidence retreating into itself until it disappears with a pop.

“We’d love to come,” a deep voice says from behind me, and my eyes widen. I recognize that voice. It’s my boss.

He leans down over my shoulder and works his face into the frame of the camera with mine, grinning with a winning white smile. “Hi, I’m Helix, Nicolette’s boyfriend. Is the party on Friday or Saturday?”

Every single one of my mom and sister’s flabbers have been gasted, if their gaping mouths are any indication.

Then Helix hands me a small cup and kisses my cheek. “Here’s your gelato, honey.”

Boyfriend? Honey?

What the actual fuck is going on here?