Page 37 of Hale Yes (Highway to Hale #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Football and family

Nicolette

One thing I’ve learned about Texas, they have their own way of doing things. And that’s never truer than when looking at the seasons.

It’s September, and folks are starting to put out pumpkins, colored leaves, and all matter of “fall” related decor, but here’s the thing.

There is no fall here. It’s a myth. The temperature is hovering at a sweltering ninety-seven damn degrees, but Texans act like it’s a cool, breezy autumn afternoon with pretty leaves floating down around them.

Heck, I saw a girl wearing a knitted scarf with her tank top and shorts last week and what I can only assume was a pumpkin-spice latte in her hand.

I’ve been informed by several reputable sources—a.k.a.

Stefan, Lukas, and Shay—that my new state will have a couple hard freezes sometime between December and February, and this is what they refer to as “winter.”

Another thing about Texas? They love their football. I don’t dislike the sport. I watched Giants’ games with my dad sometimes when I was a kid, but I can’t say I’m a huge fan.

Nevertheless, I’m at the new Houston Dragons stadium on a Saturday because Helix invited me a couple weeks ago. That was way before our little lab rendezvous on Thursday.

Yeah. That. Also known as the best damn sexual encounter of my life.

I was concerned about going to work yesterday. In fact, I almost called in sick to avoid the awkwardness, but I thought that would be too obvious. All in all, we acted pretty normal on the day after, other than a couple shared glances that lasted a beat too long.

Thanks to Helix’s massive dick, I still felt some soreness between my legs, which I did my best to conceal.

But we worked in the microbiology lab yesterday, and their stools aren’t as well padded, so I tended to shift in my seat a lot.

I’m pretty sure Helix noticed because I caught him smiling as he looked through a microscope. The smug, sexy man.

After showing my identification at the stadium, I ride with a guard in an elevator that opens on the top floor, where the suites are located.

“This one right here, ma’am,” he says, gesturing to a silver door near the center with a dragon logo on the outside.

I tug the hem of my jersey down and stare at the door. Crap, I’m not sure if I should knock or what. The decision is made for me a moment later when the door swings open, revealing a smiling Helix.

“Hey, Nicolette. They messaged that you were on your way up,” he says quietly, his gaze eating me up as he takes in my outfit. “I like the boots.”

“Oh, um, thanks. Stefan and Lukas helped me pick out everything last night.” I wave my hand toward my fitted Dragons jersey, fringed denim shorts that show off my legs without being obscenely short, and black cowboy boots.

His smile fades a little, and he leans in slightly, enveloping me in his delicious scent. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t go to dinner with you last night. My brother’s home from London.”

“I know. It was totally fine.” I pat his arm in what should be a completely platonic gesture, but it makes the back of my neck hot when I have a flashback of his thick arms and strong hands holding me to the table while he…

“What are you thinking about, queenie?” he rumbles, snapping me out of my daydream to find him fighting a knowing smile that tells me he knows damn well what I’m thinking about.

“Just wondering if you’re going to make me stand out here all day,” I say, keeping my voice light.

With a laugh he steps back and lets me in. I have to consciously keep my mouth from gaping open like an uncultured boob when I take in the space. It’s phenomenal.

A full kitchen sits to the right as I walk in and it’s tiled in the Dragons’ team colors of black, silver, and purple. The countertops are lined with an array of food, buffet-style, and even the cabinet handles are shaped like dragons.

Beyond that is the lounge with a textured black concrete floor and several plush rugs beneath purple couches and chairs.

Low brushed silver tables provide a place for the occupants to set their drinks, and one curved wall is covered with television screens showing various games from across the nation.

“This is amazing,” I gush.

“I agree,” Helix says. “I’m glad the new league went all in and did things right. There’s more seating down there.”

He points to a set of stairs that leads down to a lower level with rows of luxurious reclining chairs. An enormous wall of windows provides an excellent view of the field that’s visible from both the lounge and the lower seating area.

“Nicolette!” I turn at the sound of a voice to find Phoenix striding toward us. Good grief! It’s a tad disconcerting to see two of the best-looking men on the planet in the same space.

“Hey, Phoenix,” I reply, accepting his quick hug. “Thanks for having me.”

“Of course. You’re part of our family now.” He steps back and looks me over. “Look at you being all Texan with your cowboy boots. I like it.”

I laugh and lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I wasn’t sure what to wear, so my neighbors went shopping with me. They assured me this was standard attire for Texas football.”

“It’s perfect, and to be honest, I’m a little jealous of those denim shorts.”

Helix casts a flat stare at his twin. “Really, Phe? You’re going to talk about jorts again?”

“Hell yes, I am. Why do people look down on men wearing them?” His replica lifts his chin defiantly. “I think we should normalize jorts for men.”

Helix shakes his head at this pronouncement, but his lips tug up at the corners. “Thank god we’re not in the fashion industry, bro. You would single-handedly bring down the entire family business with your choices.”

“Seriously though, I don’t understand why women can wear denim shorts and men can’t. It’s borderline discriminatory.”

I can’t help but laugh at this nut. “You should really be some kind of ambassador for human rights, Phoenix.”

He looks pleased, but Helix groans. “Fuck’s sake, don’t encourage him.”

“What are we talking about?”

I glance up at the new voice, and good lord have mercy . There’s another Hale brother. While the twins have dark-brown hair and blue eyes, this one—Remington, I presume—sports jet-black locks and brown eyes that are just this side of broody.

“Phoenix is complaining about the inequality surrounding the wearing of jorts,” Helix informs him.

“Again?” the newcomer sighs before turning his attention to me, a flash of interest adding flecks of gold to his dark eyes. “And who might you be?”

Helix’s displeasure is evident in his cool voice. “She might be off-limits. This is Dr. Nicolette Bell, the lab manager for Hale Cosmetics.”

You didn’t think I was very off-limits two nights ago when you had me bent over a lab table , I want to tease, but I keep that to myself and hold out a hand to Remington.

“Please, call me Nicolette.”

He takes my hand and pumps it twice. “I’m Remington Hale, but you can call me Remi.”

“Or asshole,” Helix mutters.

“She wouldn’t be the first one,” Remi jokes. “Nicolette, it's a pleasure to meet you and to have you at our company. I’ve heard only good things about you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

The oldest brother gives me a once-over with his brown eyes, so quick I almost miss it. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer? Cocktail? Wine?”

“No wine,” Helix and I say in unison before we crack up. He loops an arm around my shoulders and explains, “Nicolette tends to fall asleep after more than one glass of vino.”

The other two brothers regard his apparent familiarity, and they share a look that conveys a thousand words. Shit, they know. Helix seems to notice as well and separates himself by a step, letting his arm fall to his side.

The three of them are striking together. Dressed in Dragons’ gear and shorts—not jorts—they’re all big men, though Remi is about an inch taller than his brothers, while Helix is a bit broader through the shoulders and chest than the other two. I’d venture to guess he has the dirtiest mouth as well.

You have the hottest cunt I’ve ever felt, baby.

The memory of Helix’s words from two nights ago hits me directly in the vag, and I shift from one foot to the other.

“Do you need me to show you where the restroom is?” he asks, obviously noting my discomfort, and I take the opportunity for a little space.

“Yes, the restroom. Definitely.”

I need that greedy little clit to quiver against my tongue as I lick you to paradise.

Crap, I need to banish Helix’s filthy words from my mind and stop this train of thought before it leaves the station. We agreed it would only be one night. One very hot night that would forever be etched into my brain, but still.

I enter the lavish restroom and take a calming breath before doing my business and washing my hands. I thought finally having Helix would sate my needs, but it only seems to have cultivated them. Exponentially.

“All good?” he asks when I emerge, and I nod. “Let’s get a drink.”

There’s a small bar in the kitchen with an actual bartender on duty, and he greets us with a friendly smile. “What can I get you folks?”

“I’ll have a bloody mary. Spicy,” I request.

Helix nods. “I’ll have the same.”

A couple minutes later we both have our drinks in tall purple-tinted glasses with seasoned salt around the rim. “What are these?” I ask, inspecting two long green things poking up out of my glass.

“Pickled green beans,” he replies. “They’re really good.”

“Hmmm.” I slide one out, intrigued, and suck the juice off before it can drip on my shirt. When I notice the flare of Helix’s nostrils as his eyes drop to my mouth, I shamelessly give the bean another very slow suck before biting off the tip.

The flavor is crisp, tangy, and a little bit spicy, but I barely have time to notice before a deep voice—that voice he used Thursday while giving me orders that had nothing to do with work—says, “Careful, queenie.”

You will come when and where I tell you to come.