Page 33 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)

Tears rim her lower eyelids but she doesn’t allow them to fall.

“I held him every evening for those two weeks. Through the unstoppable crying and the shakes, I held him. I thought he was getting better because he and I found a bit of a rhythm. He started falling asleep when I cuddled him instead of crying constantly.”

I can’t think of a damn thing to say, so I simply squeeze her hand again.

Nicolette’s nostrils flare. “Zoey made quite the spectacle of herself at the funeral, wailing and falling out on the floor. She was obviously high again, and it disgusted me. Noah’s death was a hundred percent her fault.”

“Did that provide a wakeup call for your parents?”

Her short laugh was sardonic. “You would think so, right? But no. I had made a pact with myself not to speak to them about Angelica’s drug issues, but I did eavesdrop at the wake. My mother was going on and on about how she was glad Angelica wasn’t into that kind of stuff.”

I want to slam my hand on the table and yell in frustration, but I keep my voice low. “Fucking clueless.”

“Completely. What did give them a wakeup call was when Zoey overdosed a couple months later. Angelica was with her and panicked, calling our dad instead of emergency services. He got there and saw all the drugs and paraphernalia. And the dead body of his niece. That’s what really kicked him in the pants. ”

“It’s not like he didn’t already know,” I say. “He’s not a stupid man; he was just in denial, and it’s sad that it took two deaths for him to come to his senses.”

“He called and apologized for not believing me. Told me they were putting Angelica into a drug rehab facility immediately. I told him good luck.”

I’m completely blown away by this woman.

In my mind, she acted like a bit of a doormat when it came to her family.

Not that I was judging. Family dynamics are complicated, and no one has the right to cast judgment on what a person does to maintain their peace.

After all, she was under her mother’s thumb for the first sixteen years of her life, and she didn’t have much choice.

But Nicolette graduated from high school early, turned seventeen shortly after, and then left the state by herself to go to college.

At seventeen fucking years old. Then she rocked her way through undergrad in only three years with perfect grades—at Harvard, no less—and then got accepted into an exclusive program where she worked on her medical degree and PhD concurrently.

Completed that in an astonishing six years and was accepted into a competitive dermatology residency.

Yes, I’ve studied her résumé at length. Shut up. It was for work.

I’m realizing Dr. Nicolette Bell is anything but a doormat. I know now that she used apathy toward her family as a coping mechanism because she had been programmed to believe she was an afterthought. Despite the first half of her life, she rose and grew into the strongest woman I’ve ever known.

And I think I have a bit of a crush on her.

Not just her body but also her mind and her heart. She was still a teenager when she went to a hospital to hold a screaming premature infant every night because he didn’t have anyone else.

There are depths and layers to Nicolette that I never could have imagined, and I blurt, “I’m so proud of you.”

Confusion marks her forehead with two lines above her glasses. “Um, okay. Thank you. What did I do?”

I’m not sure what to say, so I go with, “For sharing your story with me. I know that was difficult.” Then I release her hand because these sandwiches require both. “Eat your dinner.”

“Yes, boss,” she replies with a smartass salute.

“So I’m guessing the rehab was successful for Angelica? She looked healthy when I met her.”

Nicolette wavers her head from side to side. “Yes and no. She was good for a while. Went to dental hygiene school and got a job. Then a year later, she got fired for stealing a tank of nitrous oxide from the dentist’s office. Of course, I learned all this from another cousin. Austin… you met him.”

“Yeah, he was a nice guy.” I inhale the rest of my sandwich. “Your parents didn’t talk about it with you?”

She takes a bite and chews before saying, “Nope. Never brought it up. They sent her off to rehab again. I would talk to Pop about once a week, and he acted like nothing was going on. He’s the ostrich in this story, remember?”

“He was probably still embarrassed his teenager saw very clearly what was happening all those years ago, while he was a grown man who ignored the problem and got mad at you for trying to help.”

“I think so too.” Nicolette’s lips twitch. “You should think about a career in psychiatry. You’re pretty insightful.”

I pretend to shudder. “Talking to actual people all day, every day? No thanks. I prefer my lab work.”

She regards me with a scrutinizing gaze that makes my shirt feel too tight. “Not a fan of people?”

“Meh. I prefer to keep my circle small.”

“And am I in your circle?”

Her cheeks pinken the prettiest shade of rose, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean to ask that.

“You are most definitely in my circle, queenie.” And lately, you’ve been directly in the center of it , though I don’t divulge that part to her.

We share a smile, and then Nicolette reverts to the previous subject. “As far as I know, Angelica hasn’t used since that stint, though she does have her other issues.”

“Like what?”

Nicolette’s tone is weary as she rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

“Oh, where do I start? She moved back home with my parents so she could save money. She can’t hold down a job for any amount of time because she keeps changing careers.

” A giggle escapes her, and she leans forward.

I find myself doing the same. “At one point she decided she wanted to be a restaurant manager. Now, mind you, she has absolutely no experience in the hospitality industry, so they told her she had to start out as a server.”

I shake my head and chuckle, imagining Angelica Bell serving food. “Bet that went over like a pole-vaulting walrus.”

“Yep, she didn’t last two weeks. Let’s see…

she applied to be a secretary at a Baptist Church but didn’t make it past the interview because she said shit in front of the pastor.

Then there was the photography phase. Pop even paid for her to take classes.

She started booking outdoor sessions to get started until she had the money to open her own studio. ”

I’m becoming amused by her Angelica career saga. “How did that one end?”

Her grin is just this side of smirky. “Out of the ten sessions she booked, she only showed up for five because it was too hot or she was tired. Then there was the one with the newborn. Angelica canceled in the middle because the baby was misbehaving.”

I’d just taken a drink of water and had to jerk my napkin to my mouth to keep from spewing it all over Nicolette. “The baby was misbehaving?” I ask incredulously.

“She was only a month old and started crying. Angelica said she couldn’t work like that and flounced out, like she was a world-famous artist or something. Of course she was raked over the coals in the reviews on her website, so she quit.”

I drag my hand down my face. “How are you two even related?”

Nicolette’s lips flatten. “Trust me, I ask myself that all the time.”

“You really didn’t have to walk me all the way to my car. Yours is on the first level.”

I huff out a scoffing sound. “If you think I’m going to let you walk through a dark parking garage by yourself, you don’t know me very well.”

We stop beside her car, and Nicolette looks up at me. “Thanks for listening to me. Sorry it wasn’t a very pretty story.”

“Not everything is going to be all sunshine and roses. Thank you for sharing with me.”

I don’t usually feel awkward with her, but tonight I do. It’s not because of anything she told me at the coffee shop; it’s because I’m dying to kiss her again. So I shove my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her.

“Are we still having dinner on Friday night or are you sick of me by now?”

My shoulders relax at her teasing. “You think I’d miss out on the great restaurant quest across Houston? The Cattle Company Steakhouse, right?”

“If that’s cool with you.”

“I’ve never eaten there, so I look forward to it.”

“Guess I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” she says, lifting her chin to look into my eyes.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

Nicolette turns and presses her thumb against the button on her car handle to unlock it, and I suddenly don’t want to let her go. So I say, “Nicolette?”

She swivels back to me. “Yes?”

“How often do you do the baby cuddling thing?”

“Usually once a week on Wednesdays, though they’ll occasionally call me in if another volunteer can’t show up.” She looks down at her shoes for a second. “I know Noah is gone, but there are so many other babies out there in need. That’s why I still do it.”

Her heart overwhelms me.

“Would it be okay if I went with you?” I ask. “I’d like to volunteer too.”

Nicolette’s lips turn up into a smile of pure sunshine. “I would love that.” Then her smile fades. “Just warning you though, sometimes they scream the entire time. It’s not an easy thing to do.”

I pull my lip through my bottom teeth. “Sometimes the most important things are the hardest.”

She surprises me when she steps forward and binds her arms around my waist. I return the embrace and rest my cheek against the top of her head. When the side of her face presses to my chest, I wonder if she can hear the acceleration of my heart.

She’s wearing the flat loafers she always wears to work, so she has to look up at me when she finally raises her head. “Thank you, Helix. I needed that.”

As I stand with my hands in my pockets and watch her drive away, I quietly say, “So did I.”