Bobbing For Bodies: MURDER IN THE MIX 2

by Moore, Addison

  I clear my throat as she tries to dive her mouth over his. “Anyway, they called this morning and asked if I’d cater the desserts for an awards ceremony they’re having next week at the Evergreen Manor.”

  “VIP awards,” she corrects. “And yes, Everett and I will be there with bells on. He’s already promised to be my official plus one.” She offers a strangulating hug to his arm, but Everett seems unmoved by her psychotic advances. “Oh, and, by the way, my boss is into pumpkin spice everything. Make it worth his while. You don’t want to see him unhappy.”

  “Duly noted and I guess I’ll see you there.”

  Everett gives an approving nod my way. “Everything looks great tonight. You did good, Lemon.”

  Lainey jumps beside me. “My sister always does good.”

  Noah tucks a kiss to my cheek. “That she does.” He picks up my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’ve got some good news for you.” Noah sheds that signature cocky grin, and my stomach bisects with heat. “You got the rental house. My realtor called and said you can pick up the keys as soon as you’re ready.”

  “I got the house!” I shout so loud the room breaks out into a cheer right along with me. I’m so excited, I wrap my entire body around Noah’s as he spins me gently, and I’m dizzy with happiness, dizzy from the way he makes me feel.

  He lands me back on my feet, and both Keelie and Lainey slap me five.

  Collette snickers. “That’s just dandy. It looks as if Lottie is off the market.” She bats her lashes up at Everett. “I’m ready to get off the market myself, big boy. You got any idea of who can fit the bill?” Collette gives his tie a light tug, and it’s all I can do not to groan in disapproval.

  “No”—he gently removes her hand from his tie—“I don’t.” He sheds his killer grin—it’s such a rare sighting that every girl in the room pauses to observe it. “But I do have some good news of my own that you might like.” He winks her way before turning his attention to Noah and me. “I’m moving myself. It looks like I’m heading to Honey Hollow.”

  “What?” both Collette and I cry in unison.

  “That’s right. Being here reminded me of how much I hate living in the city. And I happened to get a great deal on a house myself. I paid cash in full, and they didn’t argue. It’s mine now. I’m a full-fledged homeowner.”

  “Congratulations!” we all shout at the top of our lungs.

  The whooping dies down, and Noah gives his stepbrother a handshake. “So, where exactly will you be? I need to know what street to avoid.” A grin spreads wide over his face as we laugh it off.

  “Country Cottage Road.”

  “What?” Noah balks. “Really? I don’t remember seeing a house for sale in the neighborhood.”

  “It wasn’t. I liked the blue house we toured that day, and when Lottie didn’t want it, I made my move. Let’s just say the old owners were more than happy with how things worked out.”

  “We’re going to be neighbors!” I give Everett a spontaneous hug and note that Noah is slower to congratulate him this time.

  “Great.” Noah’s head bobs with an unconvincing nod. “Just great.”

  “It will be great.” Everett tips his head back as the two of them stare one another down for a moment.

  “It will be very great,” I say, pulling Noah in close. “We’re all turning a new leaf.”

  Collette wraps herself around Everett like a suckerfish. “To new leaves!”

  “To new leaves,” we chant back.

  Things will undoubtedly be different with our new living arrangements, but I’m determined to make it work. After all, I couldn’t imagine my life without either of them in it.

  A gray ball of fur hops up onto the brownie tray, and I gasp as my entire body solidifies.

  Noah leans in. “Everything okay?”

  “Everything is just fine.” My head turns toward him, but my eyes never stray from that bushy-tailed visitor.

  Everett steps over and points down to the brownie bar as if acknowledging what I see, and I give a little nod. He doesn’t hesitate picking up a dark fudge brownie and holding it over his open palm against the table. The tiny woodland spectral hops right over and does its best to nibble. I can’t help but coo at the sight and offer an approving nod as Everett and I share a warm smile.

  The party dwindles down, and Noah helps me close up shop long after everyone has gone home.

  He pulls me into his strong arms as we step outside into the brisk autumn night and looks lovingly into my eyes. “It’s official. I belong to you.” He tucks a kiss to the nape of my neck. “We’re official,” he says, swaying back to get a better look at me.

  “We’re official?”

  “That’s right. I hope it doesn’t sound weird for you to call me your boyfriend. I already called my stepbrother and told him all about my new girlfriend.”

  “You did? Will I like her when I meet her?” I can’t help but tease him, and we share a warm laugh.

  “You can’t help but love her.” His features smooth out as he says the L word, and my heart drums wildly right into my ears.

  “You really called Everett?”

  He nods, affirming the fact.

  “You’re a sneak. I love that.” There’s that L word again, and I suppose it means something even minutely that we both used it back to back. Love. That word circles my mind. It begs to be redirected toward him, but I’m afraid I’ll scare him off if I do. And just like that, I shake the thought right out of my head. “You know what? I think I—”

  Noah gently muzzles me with a lingering, sugar sweet kiss before pulling back with sleepy eyes.

  “I want to say it first,” he whispers right over my lips. “I need you to hear me say it. I want it to sink into your bones.” He pulls back and gazes tenderly into my eyes. “I think I love you, Lottie Lemon. In fact, I know I do.”

  My lips part as I try my hardest to memorize this moment. “I love you, too, Noah. I do.”

  The moon shines a spotlight over us as if it were the final scene in some romantic black and white movie. But it’s not the final scene for Noah and me. The two of us have just begun.

  That crooked grin begins to bloom on his face once again, his eyes never leaving mine.

  Noah gently tucks a stray lock behind my ear. “I have a feeling I’ve just entered into the best season of my life. And I predict that with you by my side every season thereafter will be better and better.”

  “They never stop getting better?” I bite down over a smile.

  “With you in my life, that would be impossible. We’re a team, Lottie. And we’re building a solid foundation. No pretense, no secrets—filled with honesty and communication.”

  Noah lands his oven-hot mouth over mine, and we indulge in something richer, far more decadent and sweeter than anything I could whip up in the kitchen. Noah and I are building a solid foundation. No pretense, no secrets—filled with honesty and communication. But deep down, I know for a fact there is plenty of pretense involved. I am rife with secrets. I am not filled with honesty, not entirely—especially when it comes to my supernatural tendencies. And I will most certainly not communicate a single word about them. It’s bad enough I’ve spilled the supernatural beans to Everett.

  No, Noah Fox can never be apprised of that paranormal part of my life.

  And because of this, there will always be a thorny secret nestled between us, creating a barrier, a buffer that will forever stand between us.

  It’s a division, and everyone knows a house divided cannot stand.

  But Noah and I are different.

  Aren’t we?

  And I wonder.

  Pick up Pumpkin Spice Sacrifice (Murder in the Mix 3) next!

  And be sure to pick up the holiday book that inspired the MURDER IN THE MIX series Just Add Mistletoe!

  Preview of Pumpkin Spice Sacrifice (Murder in the Mix 3)

  Book Description

  My name is Lottie Lemon, and I see dead pets. Okay, so on occasion I see a dearly d
eparted human, too. And, unfortunately for me, that horrible scenario is playing out right this minute. Worse yet, that good-looking ghost just so happens to look just like my friend, Everett, and it refuses to leave his side. I’m petrified of losing Everett, so much so that I too refuse to leave his side, which of course doesn’t exactly bode well with my newly minted boyfriend, Noah Fox, who is just as comely as his surname suggests. After two horrific murders just took place in our small town of Honey Hollow, I’m ready to put the last few months behind me, but when I come across another gruesome discovery, my entire world comes crashing down on me once again.

  Chapter 1

  I see dead people.

  Okay, so more often than not, I see dead pets, and, believe you me, they are not a good omen for their previous owner—which is where I usually spot the fuzzy little phantasms. They seem to appear just before something horrific is about to befall the aforementioned previous owner, and up until just a few months ago, that never involved a fatality. However, after Merilee Simonson, my old landlord, and Hunter Fisher, my old good friend, both met with an untimely demise, I’m beginning to see a homicidal trend brewing here. And trust me, I’m the last person on the planet who wants to see a homicidal trend percolating in the cauldron of life—especially after I was the number one suspect in Merilee’s death. Not that there are many dead bodies lying around in our tiny corner of Vermont. Honey Hollow is known more for its fall splendor, which we’re smack-dab in the middle of. And it’s as homey and cozy as its name suggests.

  But, at the moment, I’m not looking at a long-deceased precious creature. I’m looking at a warm-blooded, very much alive and full of mischief, Himalayan, who happens to belong to yours truly. Pancake was gifted to me over a year ago by my best friend’s grandmother, Nell. She had a hard time deciding between two cute kitties and brought them both home, citing she would keep the one I didn’t choose. Of course, I couldn’t resist. I took one look at those big silver-blue eyes and fell instantly and madly in love. I named my sweet angel—a far too generous moniker, considering I’m staring down at a pile of down feathers floating in a five-foot vicinity—Pancake and Nell named hers Waffles.

  “Pancake Lemon, I am going to gift you a middle name, so I can scold you properly. If you keep this up, I’ll be forced to give you two—or three.”

  He glances up at me, bored from the sofa. That butter yellow fur looks almost silver with the sunlight streaking across his back. His nose and the tip of his tail have a bit of a coffee-colored stain to them that just adds to how handsome he really is.

  “Oh, stop it, Lottie.” Lainey breezes in with an oversized box in her arms marked bedroom. Lainey is my older sister, and even though the Lemons adopted me when I was just days old, Lainey and I still manage to share the same caramel waves and light hazel eyes. “Pancake wasn’t responsible for the feathered carnage. I may have done that. The darn pillow snagged on a loose nail on the railing. Everett is fixing the culprit right now.”

  No sooner does she breeze right past me than the sound of a hammer dealing out a couple of hearty blows echoes through my new rental. Pancake looks to the door with pure boredom before closing his eyes for his evening nap.

  “Sorry, buddy.” I give his head a quick scratch. “I should have known you weren’t capable. It would take far too much energy to make the place look like you got into a fight with a canary—and won.”

  Keelie grunts her way inside, hoisting in the last of the dining room chairs, her blonde curls bouncing with every charged step. Keelie Turner is as perky and adorable as her name suggests.

  “I see how it goes.” She scoffs my way. “We do all the work while you snuggle up with the cat.” She blows Pancake a kiss. “How about we trade places, Lot? I’m zonked.” Keelie and I have been fast friends ever since pre-school. Nell is her grandmother, and so she’s always felt like a bit of an aunt to both Pancake and Waffles.

  Nell Sawyer owns half of Honey Hollow. She owns the Honey Pot Diner, where Keelie works. And she happens to own the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, where I’m more than happily employed. It’s been my dream for as far back as I can remember to have a bakery of my own, and the fact Nell has given me complete charge of the place makes me feel pretty damn lucky.

  Noah strides in and gifts me a crooked grin, his biceps bulging to mouthwatering degrees as he sets a box marked just stuff down onto the dining room table. Noah Corbin Fox is a private investigator that recently moved to Honey Hollow, and I happened to run into him at his office. I may have thought he was a loan officer and tried my best to wrangle some finances from him for the bakery. As it turns out, Noah ended up gifting the bakery the appliances it needed with the money left from his father’s estate. Apparently, his father was a swindler, and Noah wanted nothing to do with the money.

  He strides my way and wraps his strong arms around my waist. His lids hood low on cue. “Hey, beautiful.” Noah dots my lips with a kiss, and every last part of me melts like chocolate sitting over a double boiler hungry with heat. Noah has expressive green eyes and a naughty crooked grin that makes any and every female in a five-mile radius do a lust-filled double take. He also has a face that looks as if God spent a millennium chiseling it to perfection, and when he smiles at me, I feel as if we’re the only two people in the world. Of course, he has both brain and brawn going for him, hot and heavy. There is no contesting the fact that Noah Fox is all man. He’s brilliant, and reliable, and will most definitely make the perfect husband one day.

  My lips twitch with a smile of their own. Noah and I have only just begun our journey together, considering we met in September and it’s just now November, but I’d say yes in an impulsive second if he popped the question. He’s insanely gorgeous and sincere to a fault. And his best trait by far is that he’s extremely protective of my safety. I may or may not have gotten involved with an open homicide investigation that he was working on a few weeks back and almost got myself killed in the process, but that’s all in the past.

  “I can’t thank you enough for helping.” I brush a careful kiss over his lips and linger. I’d much rather be doing exactly this than hauling a mountain of boxes into my new living room.

  Someone clears their throat from the door, and we look over to find Essex Everett Baxter, the honorable judge who happened to side in my favor when my landlords hauled me to small claims court back in September. Everett was just filling in that day. He usually sees much meatier cases, which involve full-blown juries and require harsh sentencings that lead to lengthy prison stays. It sounds terribly exciting—as long as I’m on the right side of the law—and one day I fully intend to pick his brain about it. Everett and Noah used to be stepbrothers back in high school when Everett’s mother was married to Noah’s swindler of a father. And as fate would have it, some of the money that was given to me for the bakery just so happened to be swindled from her. I didn’t know it at the time, and Everett apparently gave his green light to the endeavor.

  Everett is younger than you might expect for a judge. He’s thirty-two, and Noah is thirty-one to my twenty-six. We all went to dinner at the Honey Pot last night after we did an initial haul of boxes and clothing. Turns out, Everett’s closet is just as full as mine. But that doesn’t say a lot, considering the fact the wardrobe of a baker is pretty basic. After dinner, we talked at length about our lives. I told Everett about my adoption—Noah already knew that part, but I kept mum on the New York debacle that occurred during and post my college years at Columbia.

  Last month, when Noah mentioned that a couple of homes were for rent on his street, Everett came with us to check them out. He liked the one next door so much he bought it. Noah lives across the street, adjacent to my cute little white clapboard house with its white picket fence porch and cheery red door. It’s so homey, I feel like I’ve lived here for years, and already I don’t ever want to move.

  “That’s it.” Everett lands the last box onto the dining room table. He nods over to Keelie and Lainey who both just plopped onto the sof
a next to Pancake. “Thanks for everything, guys. You didn’t have to help me move, too. Helping Lemon would have been more than enough.” His lips pull back with a temporal grin. Everett doesn’t smile much, has little to say, and seems to be made up of pure testosterone. His hair is dark, his eyes are a glacial blue, and he wears a suit just about every day of the week—with the exception of this one. Apparently, women have been falling all over him for eons, and now that I’ve had a chance to witness the debauchery firsthand, I can honestly say it’s not a pretty sight. One day I fully expect to see a knock-down, drag-out brawl in his honor. Everett admitted that he’s not the relationship type, and he has an entire string of exes to prove it. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

  “Oh no, you don’t!” I pull both Everett and Noah along as I herd everyone into the kitchen. I wanted to sleep here last night, but Lainey wouldn’t hear of me staying in an empty house with nothing more than an air mattress and my sweet cat. Lainey was nice enough to let me live with her for the last few months after the Simonson sisters gave me the boot. “We’re going to make a toast,” I say, pulling the champagne flutes from a box and setting them over the creamy marble island that’s been vying for a coveted position in my heart ever since I laid eyes on it. And, believe me, this baby has gotten it.

  Keelie opens the fridge and groans. “You’re missing a key ingredient, Lottie. No champs.”

  “Sorry,” I say, reaching for the fruit-flavored seltzer water and distributing it evenly into five glasses. “I’ll make it up to you next time.” I give a sly wink to Noah because I plan on making it up to him far sooner than that.

  Lainey helps disperse the flutes, and soon we’re lifting our arms.

  “To new beginnings with wonderful neighbors.” I raise my glass and tip my head toward Noah and Everett.