All Hale the Queen (Highway to Hale)

1. Ophelia

Ophelia

“Mooom, cut it out.”

I continue swiping at my oldest son’s beard with my napkin.

“You have a couple crumbs, honey.” He closes his eyes and blows out a long sigh, though he sits still and lets me work.

“There you go. All better. I do like you with a beard, Remington. Doesn’t your brother look handsome?

” I ask his brothers, who, at thirty-four, are two years younger than him.

Helix and Phoenix are twins and the duo is responsible for most of the gray hair in my short wavy bob.

“He’s positively dreeeamy,” Phoenix croons, clasping his hands beneath his chin.

Helix, fans his face with one hand and affects a feminine southern drawl as he pretends to swoon in his seat. “He’s so handsome I think I’m getting the vapors. Phoenix, get the smelling salts.”

Phoenix grabs a packet of Splenda and waves it beneath his twin’s nose.

Remi turns his brown eyes, a replica of my own, toward me and shakes his head. “Now I see why some animals eat their young.”

I can’t hold back my burst of laughter. I’m just so damn happy to have all my sons back in Houston now that Remi has returned from London to take over as CEO of Hale Cosmetics. My smile feels like it’s permanently etched on my face.

“I carried those two for almost nine months. No way was I going to eat them after finally getting them out.”

My youngest sons are still acting out their dramatic scene with Phoenix now waving his baby-blue napkin in front of Helix’s face like a fan. In the middle of a classy French restaurant. My stars, it’s always an adventure with these two, but I love it.

Remi shakes his head and shoots me a flat look. “You could have dropped them off at a fire station. No one would have blamed you, Mom.”

“And missed out on all this fun?” When Phoenix picks up his glass with a wicked glint in his eye, I decide I don’t want to know what his plan is for that water. “Boys!” I snap in my best cut the shit mom voice, and they immediately cease their antics, both of them chuckling as they straighten up.

“Sorry, Mom,” Phoenix says, placing his napkin back on his lap.

“I swear, sometimes I think you two are toddlers and not grown men,” I lament, shaking my head and trying to hide my amusement, which I pretty much fail at because my lips are twitching.

Helix chucks Remington on the arm. “Just kidding, Rem. You’re the best looking bastard to ever walk this earth.”

“All my boys are incredibly handsome and accomplished,” I say fondly, looking around the table at the loves of my life.

Where Remi has brown eyes, his brothers have the same blue irises as their father.

All of them have dark hair and are much taller than me.

In fact, they all outgrew me by the time they reached junior high school.

Phoenix, in a rare moment of seriousness, smiles at his older brother. “We’re really glad you’re back, Remi. You’re going to be an amazing CEO.”

“Here, here,” I cheer, lifting my wine glass. We all clink and take a sip. “How has your first day been so far?” I ask as the server begins setting our food in front of us.

“It’s been fine,” Remi replies, slicing into his chicken roulade to reveal spiraling layers of chicken, goat cheese, and spinach. “It’s basically the same job I’ve been doing running the European division, except on a worldwide scale.”

He says that so nonchalantly, like running an international, billion dollar cosmetics empire is no big deal. All three of my sons are brilliant, as are Helix and Phoenix’s spouses.

Helix and his wife, Nicolette, are both PhDs and are co-directors of the Hale laboratories. They are based out of Houston, but they also oversee every Hale lab in the world.

Phoenix is the marketing director, which fits his personality and strengths perfectly. His wife, Jordie, is a football mega-superstar in the WNFL.

I only wish my oldest son had someone to share his life with as well. Keeping my tone casual as I spear a bite of my lunch—herb-roasted chicken over a bed of mixed greens and topped with a velvety champagne cream dressing—I ask, “Any special woman in your life, Remington?”

He pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth and scowls before shooting a warning glare at the twins. Then he shakes his head as he opens his mouth and eats the chicken.

Helix and Phoenix have matching smirks on their faces that make me think I’ve missed something. Is there a lady in Remi’s life? God, I hope so. He’s been such a loner for years, but he’s also very private, so I don’t press.

Instead, I turn to Phoenix. “Do you think Reece would like to take a little road trip with me for Spring Break? I hear there’s an amazing drive-through safari up near Dallas.”

He chuckles. “It’s only September, Mom, but yes. I think she would love that. I’ll talk to Jordie to make sure she doesn’t already have plans.”

“I know with your busy schedules, you have to plan things way in advance, so I wanted to call dibs before someone else does,” I say with a laugh.

Phoenix’s daughter, Reece, is almost seven years old and currently my only grandchild.

I adore her with my whole heart. Jordie isn’t her biological mother, but she adopted her right after she and Phoenix got married earlier this year. They make a beautiful family.

Thinking of my upcoming second grandbaby, I turn my attention to Helix. “How is Nicolette feeling? Everything going okay with her pregnancy?”

“Fantastic,” he replies, cutting his seared salmon with a fork. “She hates the smell of fish right now, so I can only eat it when she’s not with me.”

“I was the same way with turkey when I was pregnant with you and Phoenix. It was the weirdest thing because I could eat chicken, but the smell and taste of turkey made me nauseated. Thanksgiving was a nightmare that year.”

“Oh, she told me to ask you if you wanted to go to one of her OB appointments with her. I’ve been going to all of them, but she thought you might enjoy hearing the baby’s heartbeat.”

Setting down my fork, I press my hand over my heart and try to blink back tears. “I would absolutely love that. Tell her to let me know when.”

Nicolette was not blessed with a good mother, but she and I hit it off immediately.

Well, after a brief period of awkwardness surrounding the way we met in a restaurant restroom.

I still giggle every time I think of that encounter.

It makes my heart happy that my daughter-in-law feels more like a real daughter to me.

Jordie does as well. She grew up without a mother in her life at all and was raised by her two fathers, who are wonderful men.

Phoenix had been a single father for four years before Jordie came into the picture, and now I couldn’t imagine life without her in it.

She’s vibrant, talented, and an adoring mother to little Reece.

Once we’re done with our lunch, my boys and I stand.

“Mom, did you drive?” Remi asks.

“No, I knew we’d probably have wine, so I took an Uber.”

Lines appear on his forehead. “I really wish you’d let me get you a permanent driver.”

I wave my hand at him. “Pssh. That would be a waste. I enjoy driving myself, so there’s no need to hire someone to just sit around.”

Remi blows out a breath like I’m the most unreasonable person to ever exist. “No, it’s much better for you to get in a car with a complete stranger.” His sarcasm is obvious, but I ignore it.

“I agree. Especially since their drivers are vetted,” I reply pointedly.

My son rubs his forehead. “I’ll have Antonio drive you home today, and I’ll just catch a ride back to the office with Phoenix and Helix.”

“Remi, it’s really—”

“Please, Mom,” he interrupts, his brown eyes worrisome and compelling. “It would make me feel better.”

“I agree with Remi,” Helix adds, and his twin nods. “Why ride with a stranger if you don’t have to?”

They all appear to be stressing about this, and I’m happy my sons care enough to worry about me, so I relent.

“Okay, fine. If Antonio doesn’t mind.” Three wide smiles greet me, and my heart melts. I’d do pretty much anything to make my sons happy.

As we walk toward the front of the restaurant, Remi tucks my arm in his elbow while Phoenix walks to my left with a hand between my shoulder blades.

Helix closely brings up the rear, and I feel like I’m surrounded by my own Secret Service detail.

The eyes of the other diners shift our way.

I can’t say I blame them. Three over-six-foot men in finely tailored suits are bound to attract attention, especially from the ladies in the restaurant.

“Ooh, that guy is checking you out, Mamacita,” Phoenix whispers, bobbing his eyebrows at me.

I glance to the left and quickly jerk my eyes away from the man who’s openly staring at me.

“J.P. Jenkins? Hard pass,” I say in a low voice.

“You’re so pretty, Mom. You should really date more.”

“Thank you for saying that, sweetheart, but J.P. isn’t for me. He’s boring as hell. He sat beside me at a charity dinner one night, and I almost fell asleep in my soup.” I shake my head. “Since then he’s asked me out several times, but I always politely decline.”

I may be in my fifties, but I do my best to take care of myself. Elaborate skin care routine? Check. Pilates or yoga several times a week? Also check. I’m petite and have very few wrinkles, though I gain more gray hairs by the hour, it seems.

My eyes move around the room. I’ve dated sporadically in the past, and I’m not opposed to doing so again, but none of the men in this restaurant catch my interest.

Remi checks his phone. “Antonio was running some personal errands, but he just texted that he’s about to pull up.”

We exit the restaurant onto the busy downtown Houston sidewalk in time to see a large black SUV pull up to the curb. Remi’s driver exits and rounds the vehicle, and my eyes almost pop out of my head.

I haven’t seen Antonio Walsh in a couple years, but heavens to Betsy! The man has aged like a fine wine. His dark-brown hair and beard are just as full as they were before, but now there are strands of gray interspersed throughout, giving him a much more distinguished appearance.

My gaze drops down his body, finding him just as muscular as he’s always been. His frame is so large, he blocks out the afternoon sun, and I’m pretty sure he could squash a watermelon with his thick thighs.

I’ve always thought of Antonio simply as Remi’s driver and security person, but now?

Now this big man has my attention in a completely new context.

He’s wearing a suit that has to be custom-made to fit the breadth of his shoulders and chest, and I’m pretty sure Urban Dictionary would label him as a “zaddy.”

Antonio greets my sons before turning his attention to me. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Hale.”

I blush like I’m some kind of damn teenager instead of a fully mature woman with grown children.

“Oh, please. Call me Ophelia,” I say, and did my voice sound a little breathy? I take his outstretched hand, finding mine dwarfed by his much larger one.

“All right, Ophelia,” he replies, a hint of a smile peeking out from that dark beard. I do my best not to swoon at the way his Irish accent rolls my name off his tongue.

His green eyes seem glued to mine, and I find myself staring right back. Until Remi’s voice breaks the spell, and I pull my hand away, my skin instantly chilled, despite the warm September afternoon. I briefly wonder how rough those hands would feel against other parts of my body.

“I’m riding back to the office with my brothers. Do you mind driving Mom home?” my son asks, and I mentally shake myself. What in the world was I thinking, having thoughts like that about Antonio?

“Of course. Do you still live in the same place?”

Clearing my throat, I nod politely. “Yes, the same place.” When he goes to open the back door for me, I stop him with a hand on his forearm. “I’ll ride up front, if that’s okay.”

“Certainly, Ms… Ophelia.”

My laugh sounds entirely too flirty. “Just Ophelia.” I glance at my sons, but they didn’t seem to notice my coy tone.

“Bye, Mom. Thank you for lunch,” Remi says a bit grudgingly since I’d outargued him for the bill. He gives me a hug, followed by Helix doing the same.

Phoenix, overexuberant as always, wraps his arms around my middle and lifts my feet from the ground. “Love you, Mom. I’ll call you tonight.” Then he plants a smacking kiss on my cheek before setting me back down on the sidewalk. Phoenix has always been my most affectionate child.

A minute later, I’m in the passenger seat of the SUV beside a man that I’m suddenly very attracted to.

What in the world is going on with me? Is this some kind of menopause symptom…

this magnetism I’m feeling toward Antonio?

Maybe I need to speak with my doctor about hormone therapy.

Or perhaps she could just hose me down like an overly frisky dog.

I’m not sure, but I need to get my crap together before I embarrass myself. Antonio is completely off limits. First of all, he works for Remington, and second, he’s got to be at least seven or eight years younger than me.

But there’s an undeniable pull between us. At least on my part.

Calm down, Ophelia Oakley-Hale. There’s no way Antonio would ever be interested in you.