Killer Cupcakes (MURDER IN THE MIX Book 14)

by Addison Moore

  “You are so handsome,” I say, giving him a scratch under the chin. “And smart. You are such a smart boy!”

  “Thank you, Lot. You always know how to make me feel better,” Noah teases as he ushers me in and takes the bottle from me. He lands them both on the table as I close the door behind me.

  Noah is quick to wrap his arms around me, those hooded lids of his hanging dangerously low.

  “Lottie Lemon.” My name comes out in a hoarse whisper, his breath scented with something minty.

  “Really?” A tiny giggle vibrates in my chest. “Because I thought it was Lottie Fox.”

  He moans hard as if he just took a bite of the most delicious meal. “I definitely like where this is going.”

  “Oh, we’ve landed. Surprise.”

  We share a warm laugh, but Noah’s features sober up quickly.

  “What do you want to do?” His voice is low and husky, and I don’t think I need to ask him the same question. That look he’s giving me says it all.

  I shrug up at him. “Maybe toast to us?”

  “To us.” His head inches back as if it were a victory.

  Noah whisks me into the kitchen and has the champagne poured into two fluted glasses all the way to the brim before I can take my next breath.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get me a little tipsy.”

  “If I were trying to get you tipsy, I would have poured it into a pilsner glass, but feel free to have seconds.” He gives a sly wink as he lifts his glass high and I do the same. “To my beautiful wife. May we find exactly what we’re looking for in each other and never regret a moment of our union all the days of our life.”

  “Hear, hear. Salute.” Surprisingly, I knock back half the glass and Noah is quick to refill it. “You are a devil.”

  “Let it be known I’m a celebratory one. Come on. I’ll build a fire.”

  Noah gets the fire roaring, and soon we’re snug on his sofa watching Toby curled up in a ball on his oversized dog bed. Noah lands an arm around me and pulls me in against his rock-hard body. The warm scent of his familiar cologne makes me feel right at home.

  “Lottie—” Noah starts and I press a finger to his soft, cushioned lips.

  “If you don’t mind, I want to go first.”

  He gives a sober nod before playfully biting down on my finger and landing a kiss to the tip.

  “Noah, when I found out you were married to Britney last winter, it sent me into a complete and utter tailspin. At first, I wanted to do exactly what Cormack is doing—disassociate and pretend it wasn’t happening. But then, my anger got the best of me and I flipped out. I ran into Everett’s arms for cover, which I confess was far too easy to do. He already had feelings for me.” I shake my head as the memories flood me. “But Noah, I never got over you. I couldn’t. I was ready to say yes if you asked me to marry you last February. And then, as quick as a blink, I tried to cut you out of my life. Of course, that didn’t work. But my point is, we went from zero to hero with nothing in between. I loved you and yet I hated what had happened to us. It’s an impossible feeling trying to process those emotions at the very same time.” I give his chest a light scratch over his shirt. “And now we’re caught in another extreme.”

  He winces as he wraps his other arm around me. “And that’s exactly why I think we should see my counselor.”

  “The one you’ve already worn down with both Britney and Cormack?”

  A laugh bounces in his chest. “Yes. And, in the event you were wondering, she is dying to meet you.”

  “She, huh?” I hike a brow at him. “Fine. I acquiesce.” Noah has been after me to do this for a while and I think it’s time. “If not now, when?”

  “If not now, when.” His gaze drops to my lips. “I’ve missed you, Lot.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, Noah.”

  He clears his throat and straightens just enough as he struggles to settle his gaze on the fire.

  “So, do you want to talk about the case?”

  I’d laugh at the idea, but I can’t seem to initiate the action.

  Instead, I shake my head and run my fingers through the sexy stubble peppering his cheek.

  “I’d much rather do this.” I pull Noah down to me, his eyes never leaving mine. I can see the questions brewing in his eyes, the uncertainty of how I might truly feel, and I give a little nod.

  No words.

  Tonight is about actions.

  Noah gently lands a kiss over my lips—a kiss from my husband’s mouth to mine. Noah sighs into the kiss as if it were hard-won, a long time coming, something he’s waited for his entire life. This kiss says I love you, I’m sorry, and I will never put you through that again. And I drink down his apology right to my weary bones.

  It’s as if these heated kisses have the ability to rewind time, to return us to the very place I believed we were at all those months ago.

  Noah pulls me onto his lap, his mouth never breaking from mine.

  The crackle of the fire and the beat of our hearts drumming wildly are the only sounds we hear.

  Noah and I are lost in our affection for one another and it is pure bliss.

  A part of me had always suspected Noah and I could get back to where we once were. What I wasn’t expecting was to surpass it by a mile.

  Noah and I don’t have to worry about playing house. Like so many other things, this marriage was thrust upon us when we least expected it. And now here we are, exactly where I once wanted so desperately to be.

  Do I still want this with Noah?

  Something tells me, I’m about to find out within the next few months.

  Chapter 7

  Since October is a month known to host all the thrills and chills that any good horror movie can provide, my mother has increased the Haunted Honey Hollow tours of her B&B from once a week to once a day.

  Yes, she is making money hand over fist. And, as an added perk, she’s sending the tour buses my way right after, as she’s prone to do. But, in truth, I wish she wouldn’t. The excursion to my bakery that she’s dubbed as The Last Thing They Ate Tour is essentially a free add-on that her customers get as a perk—and the one who really benefits financially is me. But, as it stands, I can’t keep up with the demand.

  “Lottie”—Lily moans as we watch the last of the tourists leave the register—“we have every oven fired up and baking up a new batch of cupcakes, and it’s been like that nonstop all day. You do realize we sell other treats, right?”

  “I realize it, and you realize it, but our customers don’t seem to realize it. I have a surplus of everything else and not a cupcake left on the shelves.”

  “True.” She slings a dishtowel over her shoulder as we look out at the bakery. The walls are painted a butter yellow and the furniture is a mish-mosh of mix and match pieces, each painted a different shade of pastel. With the twinkle lights glowing over the ceiling it’s a perfectly dreamy scene.

  Lily shrugs. “How did last night go? It looked pretty tense at your table.”

  Keelie saunters over. “Don’t start without me!”

  I swear, either she has remarkable hearing and she’s being horrifically underutilized as a national spy or she’s got some sexual homing beacon built in that alerts her to all racy conversations in a ten-mile radius.

  I balk at Lily, “Tense at my table? My table wasn’t sharing their food by way of aeronautics. And thanks for that unexpected bite of your spicy meatball. I hadn’t had it before. It was quite delicious—even if I did have to pick it out of my blouse. How did things end with Alex?”

  She shrugs as if she were indifferent. “He came over and helped me shower. And then he made me breakfast this morning before he left, scrambled eggs and bacon.” She wrinkles her nose with delight. “Just FYI, he looks awfully good wearing nothing else but bacon.”

  Keelie groans, “This cannot end well.”

  “I agree with Keelie. It’s a shocker Naomi lets you live,” I say just as the door chimes and both my s
isters, Lainey and Meg, walk in along with our mother.

  “Oh, Lottie!” Mom trots over in her kitten heels. She’s wrapped in a gorgeous cranberry-colored sweater and matching scarf. And both my sisters look extra cozy in pea coats, orange for Lainey and navy for Meg. If there’s one thing about fall, it’s that it brings out the fashion best in just about anyone. “It’s terrible.” Mom practically collapses on the counter. “People really do believe I was involved with Pastor Gaines’ murder.”

  “Well, you did have the murder weapon on you. Not that it’s been confirmed that Ethel dealt the lethal blow. And you threatened to kill him.”

  Keelie nudges me in the ribs. “Who’s Ethel?”

  “My gun. Mom found it in the ground safe in my office and used it to off her boyfriend.”

  Mom gasps, “You are insufferable.” She looks to Lily. “Coffee, please, strong and black. I’ll need an IV drip just to make it through this day.”

  Meg smacks her lips into a smile. “So how’s it feel to be Mrs. Noah Fox?”

  “It feels perfectly romantic. Noah and I had a nice time last night after the food fight at Mangias. There was champagne involved.”

  Lainey sucks in a quick breath. “Did you do the deed?”

  “Yeah, Lot.” Meg leans in. “Did you consummate the union?”

  My cheeks fill with heat as I give Mom a sideways glance.

  “No,” I all but whisper. “But we came close.”

  Lainey waves me off. “I don’t see what you’re waiting for. You were with Everett willy-nilly whenever the mood struck. Don’t make me remind you of that ballroom fiasco. Everyone else was dancing, and the two of you found a closet to do the vertical mambo.”

  Meg smears a smile over her face. “That’s my big sister. Keeping it classy.”

  Keelie leans in. “More like trashy.” She’s quick to offer me a congratulatory slap on the back. “What’s stopping you from diving in with Noah? I mean, you are married.”

  “Yes, technically. But now Everett’s involved.”

  Lily grunts, “If you’re that into technicalities, wasn’t Noah involved when you were hot and heavy with Essex?”

  “Would you stop calling him that?”

  She blinks a greedy grin my way. “No can do. I’ve earned the right.”

  “Whatever. I don’t want to talk about my love life anymore. If Noah and I do decide to take the next step in our marriage, the last place I’ll be announcing it is right here in the bakery.”

  “Good thinking,” Mom bounces back, cup in hand. “Let’s talk about the case.”

  “Noah and Everett tracked down a woman by the name of Madeline Underwood. She’s going to be at a charity function tomorrow night put on by the Fallbrook Country Club. It’s a western themed event called Denim and Diamonds, and it’s being held at the Featherby estate.”

  “Ooh.” Mom does a little shimmy. “A fancy event like that is bound to bring out all the well-behaved country club boys. Do you mind if your sweet mother tags along?”

  “Only if she promises not to amass a testosterone-laden harem.”

  Lainey raises a hand. “I’m in, too.”

  Keelie does the same. “You couldn’t keep me away. I love me an overpriced gift basket.”

  Lily holds up her phone. “Alex just confirmed he’d be my date.”

  “That means Naomi isn’t allowed.” I glance to Keelie. “I can’t get kicked out of this one.”

  “I’ll be there.” Meg shrugs. “I already know most of the women.”

  “Are you still teaching yoga at the country club?” Of course! Why didn’t I think of Meg?

  “Twice a week. But that name doesn’t ring a bell. She probably doesn’t go by Madeline, though. They’re all Muffy or Buffy or Puffy.”

  “Okay, you can all come, but remember it’s a western theme and we really want to fit in.”

  “Fit in.” My mother salutes me. “And if I play my cards right, I just might find me a new stud to ride.”

  My sisters and I groan hard on cue.

  Words you never want to hear coming from your mother’s mouth.

  I’m already regretting this.

  Chapter 8

  As it turns out, the Featherby estate is so sprawling it could easily be compared to England—as in the entire British Isles. The monolithic stone structure is nestled on acres of verdant rolling hills, complete with an Olympic-sized swimming pool, Cyprus hedge maze, six different rose gardens, and a museum with bona fide Picassos and Monets peppering its walls.

  Of course, I garnered all that information from one of the informational pamphlets at the gate.

  Once Noah and I turn his truck over to the valet and mosey on toward the back as the sign suggests, it becomes clear they won’t actually be letting me nose around their extravagant palace.

  Noah takes a moment to steal a kiss. I’ll admit, it felt next level driving out here with him, like a tried-and-true married couple. Everett said he’d meet us at the event because he wanted to have a drink with his sister after he got off work. Both Everett’s sister and mother live out here in Fallbrook. But I think it was an excuse to have me spend more time with Noah. He’s been a saint that way.

  “You look amazing,” Noah muses for the umpteen time as his eyes do that broken elevator thing up and down my body. “You should consider looking into a rhinestone apron for the bakery. It’s a good look on you.”

  “Funny,” I say. I’m head to toe in bedazzled denim. I hopped over to the Scarlet Sage Boutique after work and she set me up with the best western duds she could drum up.

  My jeans are a notch too tight and my shirt feels stiff, but every stitch of denim I’ve donned is encrusted and bejeweled with every color crystal under the sun. I’ve split my hair in pigtails and tied a pink ribbon in each one to complete the country bumpkin look.

  Noah, however, didn’t dress the part. He’s wearing his jeans and a twill jacket with a baby blue dress shirt underneath and has his holster and gun on him as he does at all times. I’ll admit, I feel miles safer when he’s around, whether or not he’s packing heat.

  We crest the side of the monstrous structure Cormack once affectionately called home and we’re each handed a glass of champagne by a rather dapper looking waiter, complete in a tuxedo.

  I scan the crowd, and to my horror I note every last person here is looking rather dapper. The men are either in suits or dressed much like Noah, and the women are wearing floor-length gowns in solid colors, primarily red and black, and their hair is swept up elegantly and there isn’t a pigtail in sight.

  “Oh my God, Noah!” I give his arm a quick yank. “I look like a spectacle. How could you let me leave the house like this?”

  His dimples press in deep. “You look beautiful, Lot.” He takes a moment to smolder at me and my insides pinch with heat. “Besides, nothing says denim and diamonds quite like you tonight.”

  “Way to make me feel better. Hold this”—I shove my champagne glass his way—“I’m losing the pigtails.”

  “Not on your life. I can work with those,” a deep voice booms from behind and I turn around to see Everett striding up in his dark inky suit, his lips curving their way to a dangerous smile just before he winces. “Ooh, sorry. I forgot we’re taking a break.” He pulls me in for a quick embrace. “And anytime you need a break from this clown, you know where to find me.”

  “Funny.” Noah nods his way. “So where’s your date? Or are you traveling solo these days?”

  “Lemon is my date.” His brows edge in like birds in flight. “But she happens to be slumming with you.”

  “Funny,” I say as I steal a moment to get my bearings and look out at the event. A trio of violinists plays in the distance and the air is perfumed with the scent of the rose gardens surrounding us. The grounds are covered in elongated tables covered in elegant white linen table clothes, and every inch is brimming with baskets and gadgets and gift cards, and a few thick, homey quilts wrapped with ribbon. It’s all set on a lush green lawn,
and it’s a feast for the eyes that goes on for miles. The tall space heaters sprinkled about are silver, slender beasts, and even they look far more elegant than me. There’s a refreshment bar to the right and strewn up above the area are twinkle lights already brightening the quickly dimming light.

  I spot a few familiar faces by one of the auction tables.

  Meg has a denim jacket thrown over a simple black dress, and I can’t help but make a face. By design I should have more fashion sense than Meg. She wears gold lame and spandex on the regular for Pete’s sake.

  Hook Redwood, her official plus one, is dutifully by her side looking the requisite amount of dapper. And I spot Lainey and Forest just past them. Lainey has her hair up in a chignon and she’s donned a blush pink dress that looks suspiciously like one of the bridesmaids’ dresses from her wedding. Lainey fell so in love with them I wouldn’t put it past her to have purchased one for herself. Her husband, Forest, looks decent, too.

  Great. I’m the only clown around. And just when I’m about to make this known, I spot my mother in a ten-gallon hat encrusted with gold glitter and jewels, and I cringe at the crystal catastrophe I’ve inadvertently caused. Her denim shirt is knotted up under her chest and thankfully she’d donned a T-shirt underneath. I’m betting my mother’s belly button, much like my own, isn’t ready for primetime. She’s donned a pair of white pedal pushers with what looks to be a brown fringe of some sort running down the side seams.

  She spots me and waves us over.

  “Lottie!” Mom lunges at me with a hug and her hat collides with my pigtails. “I can’t thank you enough for the invite. Who knew this was just what I needed to get my mind off things?” She primps her hair with her hand. “Do I have lipstick on my teeth?” She bears an eerie crimson grin my way.

  “No, you’re fine. And if by ‘things’ you’re referring to the homicide investigation you’re starring in, then you should probably tone down your enthusiasm, and maybe your hat.”