Raspberry Tart Terror (Murder in the Mix Book 30) Page 8
“We’ve got this, Lot,” he whispers with his lips right over my ear, and a shiver runs through me. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
I nod up at him as a flood of emotions hits me.
God forbid Everett ends up doing time for that little stunt with Flo’s body last month. If that’s the case, I’m going to need Noah more than he realizes. There’s no way I can do this alone. I can hardly take care of myself, let alone a helpless infant.
Serena gives another quick blow of her whistle, causing the baby to jump in my tummy—and I’m betting that just happened across the board.
I look up at Noah. “If she keeps that up, she’ll send every woman in this room into premature labor. The baby doesn’t like it.”
Noah lays both of his hands over my belly and the baby jabs at him, making his dimples go off in turn.
“Now”— Serena waves a clipboard at us—“according to my roster, every single one of you will be first-time parents. So on behalf of my co-leader and myself, we offer you a warm congratulations. If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to go around and introduce yourselves and fill us in on your birthing plan.”
A few couples give their names, occupations, and birthing plans before it lands on us.
“I’m Lottie Lemon.” I give a little wave. “I own the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery down on Main Street. And I plan on having a natural delivery as well,” I say as I hold a hand out to the two women who went before me. “And by natural, I mean in a bed with a team of doctors and nurses equipped with all the good drugs they’re willing to give me.” The room lights up with laughter. “And this”—I glance behind me—“is Detective Noah Fox, my boyfriend.” A breath hitches in my throat as I give Noah that deer in the headlights look. “I mean, he’s not quite with the force anymore.” I nod out at the crowd. Nor is he technically my boyfriend. Okay, fine. He is exactly that. “He’s on leave at the moment. There was a little hiccup with a body they found in his yard last month.” A few gasps circle the room. “And to be truthful, I actually have a husband. But he couldn’t be here tonight.”
The woman in a pink tracksuit next to me presses her hand to her chest with a look of relief on her face.
“So he’s not really your boyfriend then—he’s just a friend.” She laughs. “You almost made it sound as if you had a husband and a boyfriend.”
Another round of laughter circles the room.
“Well, actually”—I look out at the crowd of smiling faces—“he’s in the running to be the father. There’s a bit of a paternity debacle at the moment.” I grimace as the words stream from my lips. “But we’re all on friendly terms. No one has to worry about my husband bursting through those doors with a baseball bat or anything. He and Noah are actually quite close. They were stepbrothers once.” Another collective gasp circles the room. “And on that note”—I look to the woman next to me in the pink tracksuit—“why don’t you go next?”
After a few minutes, we’re all acquainted and Serena instructs our coaches to give us a back rub. The coaches get straight to rubbing, and the room fills with sounds of ecstasy.
Dear Lord, it really does feel like heaven.
“On second thought,” I whisper to Noah through a moan. “Maybe this wasn’t such a stupid idea.”
“The best part is, we can continue the endeavor once we get home.” He sniffs my neck as he says it, but I’m enjoying myself too much to reprimand him—or deny him the right to continue the endeavor once we hit the house.
Serena and Lainey come around and teach each of the coaches how to properly administer a rubdown in the event we were having some real deal hardcore contractions.
“You’re looking good,” Lainey offers her enthusiasm. “Noah, you’re really going to want to get in there when she’s in labor. Maybe make sure your hands stretch all the way down her back. You might want to try to rub her legs and feet, too. When I was in labor, I kept getting a charley horse right behind my thigh, and Forest spent hours between my legs.”
“Hours?” I muse. Funny how I chose to focus on that part of the conversation. I’m not touching the between the legs comment.
“That’s right.” She nods his way. “You’re going to have to build your endurance, too. Just make sure to give her a good rubdown every night. It’ll help her sleep better in the meantime. And who knows? You might get lucky yourself. This is Lottie we’re talking about.”
“Oh, stop it.” I give her a playful swat on the arm.
Serena and Lainey teach us a few simple breathing techniques to go along with that full body rubdown.
“Okay”—Serena blows her whistle once again until the din of conversations in the room quiets down—“I always close with what I like to call a trip to the bedroom. I’m guessing all of you have enjoyed a little bedroom time or you wouldn’t be here tonight.” A quick chortle circles the room. “I’d like to have a couple volunteer to come up and get comfy on this bed.”
“Oh, pick us!” I wave my hand as I smack Noah on the leg until he yanks me up to a standing position. “I’m just dying to lie on that thing,” I say as I waddle over with Noah in tow.
Serena has me lie down right over the spacious and cool crimson-colored comforter and it feels like bliss. My eyes close of their own volition. Another minute like this and I might just start snoring in a room full of people. Ask me if care.
“Who knows where this is going?” Serena asks with a note of excitement, and I lift an eyelid to get a better look at her. “That’s right. We’re going to give a few pointers on functional and practical positions while making love to your partner.”
“Whoa.” I try to get up, but my arms flail and my backside doesn’t lift an inch off the mattress.
“Noah”—Serena steps aside—“why don’t you lie next to her and demonstrate the side by side position.”
“But—” I begin to protest as Noah glides next to me.
“Don’t worry, Lot. We’ll wing it.” He wedges himself close to me and both Serena and Lainey work to put us together in a plausible spooning position.
Come to think of it, I think we were doing just this last night. With our clothes on, of course. I hope.
“This is so not what I envisioned,” I whisper to him.
“That’s funny”—Noah mutters—“this is exactly what I envisioned.”
Serena and Lainey work to land us in a few other comprising positions—with me in his lap facing one way then the other. The next thing I know, I’m on all fours while Noah bumps his business against my rear, much to the delight of the crowd. But before I can blush properly, my legs are hoisted over Noah’s shoulders while he plays crouching tiger, hidden fifth appendage with my nether regions.
I can’t even see Noah at this point, but judging from the laughter bubbling around me, he’s doing something funny down south. And, oh my word, I think he just bit my inner thigh.
“Noah.” I laugh as I scoot up on my elbows.
“All right”—Serena taps him on the shoulder and Noah stands once again—“last position of the night.” She and Lainey have Noah stand close to the edge of the bed while they hoist my legs straight up his body with my feet popping up around his ears while I lie flat on my back.
I’m actually quite familiar with this position because it happens to be one Everett and I have utilized more than once. I’m not sure why, but there’s just something comfortable about lying back while Everett does a majority of the work. It’s only fair. Once the baby is born, my guess is, I’ll do a majority of the work—in the traditional sense, of course.
“Okay”—Serena pushes Noah’s body into mine—“this is a good one because your partner can really get in there like the good old days.” She gyrates Noah’s hips into my backside until soon enough he takes on a rhythm of his own.
“Look at the eye contact you can have,” Lainey chimes in. “If you like the lights on, this one is for you!”
Noah keeps up with his rutting movements, and to be honest, it sort of feels li
ke a massage all on its own. My eyes close as I let out an involuntary moan. Noah has always been pretty good at thrusting.
A set of footsteps stomp their way in this direction, and no sooner do I hear Lainey gasp than my lids fly open and I see Essex Everett Baxter blink to life in a wool coat over jeans. His hair looks dewy from the shower, his beard is neatly trimmed back to mere scruff, and his bright blue eyes siren out like a couple of warning lights.
“What the hell is going on?” He takes a moment to glower at Noah. “Never mind.” His lips flicker my way. “I think I can take it from here.” Everett gives Noah a shove and my legs end up latching over his body instead, and I swear on all that is holy, about six different women just expelled an audible sigh.
I quickly work my way back to my feet and wrap my arms around him tightly.
“Everett!” Tears spring to my eyes. “Is it really you?”
“It’s really me, Lemon.” He lands his lips to mine and we share a rather heated kiss for all to see. But the people around us, the room, and all of Honey Hollow disappear for a moment.
Serena shouts for the class to enjoy the coffee and cookies before dismissing everyone and Everett pulls back with a sigh.
“Looks as if I’ve missed it after all.”
I gaze up at his brilliant blue eyes, I can’t drink him down fast enough. I cannot get enough of this man in my presence.
“Hey”—Noah steps over as we look his way—“how the heck did you pull this miracle off? I take it you didn’t escape.”
“I did escape, but I did it legally.” Everett’s features harden. “I couldn’t stand the thought of missing out on tonight. I called Fiona and told her to push this boulder out of the way. Call in favors, do whatever the heck dirty work needed to be done. Just like that, bail was set, and I called my sister and she helped me settle it.” He looks my way. “I didn’t want to burden you with it. I wanted to surprise you. Little did I know I’d be the one surprised once I entered this room.” He glowers over at Noah. “What the heck were you thinking?”
“It was a demonstration,” Noah shoots back.
“And in his defense”—I cower a little—“I volunteered. But I had no idea for what. I just saw that luscious bed and knew I had to crawl onto it. I’m exhausted.”
“Let’s get you home.” Everett lands a sweet kiss to my forehead.
And we do just that.
Everett and I eat dinner with Noah and Evie before we hit the sack, and boy do Everett and I ever hit the sack. It turns out, Everett is pretty good at thrusting himself.
It is magic.
It is beyond bliss.
It’s so heated, the paint just about melts off the wall.
Everett plies me with hungry, primal kisses that lead to far hungrier, far more primal places on that decidedly heavenly mattress of ours. My twin needs, Everett and the desire to lay my enormous body down, are finally met. Our passion explodes in a flurry of sparks, dangerous enough to burn all of Honey Hollow to the ground.
We go round after round, long into the night, until about two a.m. when there’s an abrupt knock on the door.
Everett and I pull ourselves together just enough to find Evie on the other side holding a phone out.
“It’s not mine,” she says. “I just found this in my purse. It belongs to Verity Prescott.”
Everett
Verity Prescott’s phone.
“Are we positive she’s a homicide victim?” I ask Noah as we stand outside of the rental Lemon and I are living in.
It’s the middle of the afternoon and Bear Fisher arrived a half hour ago with his crew to start clearing the land over what used to be Lemon’s old rental and my old place. I bought both places and moved heaven and earth to get the proper permits to conjoin the land and build a single family dwelling over both properties. A home for Lemon and me, Evie and our new child. And let’s be honest, Carlotta, too.
“Yes.” Noah looks incensed that I even had to ask. “Toxicology just got back to Ivy an hour ago. Verity had high levels of botulism in her system. As soon as Ivy got the news, she had the bakery swept to make sure it didn’t come from Lottie. And we know it didn’t. I told Ivy I had the phone, and she wants me to bring it down to the station. She doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that it ended up in Evie’s purse.” He gives the back of his neck a quick scratch. “She pointed out that Evie was the star of Verity’s final Insta Pictures upload. And well, she pointed out that Evie suddenly has two million followers.”
“Two million?” I glance back to the house in horror.
“And counting. Yesterday afternoon, she was at one point five. It’s growing exponentially. Verity mentioned in her post she would be passing the baton to Evie one day.”
I blow out a hard breath. “Yes, I saw it.” I shake my head at the house once again. “I vowed I’d keep her safe, and yet I can’t seem to do that. And now I’ve got this trial hanging over my head like a guillotine.”
“We’re going to get you out of this.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know that.” He nods my way. “I don’t know how, but I’m pushing this boulder out of the way for you. I promise you that, Everett. You’re not frying for something I did.”
“I wish I had your confidence. But I’m not as worried as you might think. I’m willing to throw every dime I have on my legal team to get me through this trial. But I need a silver bullet. Something that will cast doubt in that jury’s mind.” A silent laugh bounces through me. “And yet, the prosecution has got my face on the security footage. My damn face.”
Noah nods over to the construction crew working the ground.
“What’s Bear’s ETA with the place?”
“Six months.” I sigh.
“I’d tack on a year.” He starts to take off. “I’ll get the phone to Ivy and catch up to you later. Don’t you dare leave Lottie’s side.”
I’m about to tell him I won’t when the door opens to my rental and Evie bullets out with Lemon and Carlotta stagnating on the porch.
“Dad! Uncle Noah!” Evie laughs as her eyes light up with enthusiasm. “I just got a private message on my Insta Pictures account, and you’ll never guess who it’s from.”
Noah juts his head forward. “Some cute guy from third period?”
That would have been my guess, too.
“Nope.” Her blue eyes flash my way. “The ghost of Verity Prescott.”
Lottie
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, Mom,” Evie says as we head downtown in my minivan with Everett at the helm of the steering wheel. “You’re just not the type who believes in ghosts.”
“Oh my word,” I say as I get momentarily sidetracked by the army of people clogging up Main Street.
There’s not a parking spot left in sight, and there are a legion of women all lined up along the right side of the street, braving the elements as they wait their turn to enter into the Head over Heels Bookshop.
“We’ll park in the back,” Everett says as we change directions, and I take a moment to turn to look at my feisty daughter.
“I do believe in ghosts, Evie. More than you know. But I also believe that whoever sent you that message wasn’t Verity Prescott, and that they’re very much alive.”
It’s true. Evie got a rather sinister message—sinister simply by its presence—that read How are you enjoying your new kingdom? You are officially now the queen of the Insta Pictures scene. But with great power comes great responsibility. I’ve attached a few of my cheat sheets to help guide you in what to do next. But whatever you do, don’t share them with anyone else. They’re for your eyes only. You’re on your way to the top of the world. This could open many doors for you. Walk this path carefully. I’d hate to see you get mixed up with the wrong crowd of people. Remember to keep this a secret. And be on alert for more messages in the days to come. Have the time of your life! As evidenced by mine, you never know when it could all come crashing to an end.
Ominous, I know.
Everett, Noah, and I poured over those downloads that they sent Evie, and it was nothing more than a few suggestions on what to post each day of the month. It wasn’t anything charged, or even all that innovative. It was just a list of ubiquitous things like post something black and white on Wednesdays, take a selfie next to a body of water on the weekend, so we let her keep the files.
Everett parks behind my bakery, and Evie hops right out of the van.
“I’ll see you both at the bookstore!” she calls out with a wave. “And don’t worry about me. Glam Glam and Carlotta are there. Carlotta has already sent me like three different pictures of the women mobbing her.”
“We’re coming with you,” Everett says, turning the van off in haste. “Just give us a second.”
“You move like an old couple,” she shouts as she starts to take off. “Besides, I’ve got content to post!”
“We’re not old,” I call out, but it’s too late, she’s already down the street. “So much for keeping her safe,” I say, trying to untangle my huge belly from the seatbelt.
Everett comes around and helps lift me out of the van.
“I hate that someone is essentially stalking Evie,” I pant.
“We don’t know that it’s a stalker.” He lands a kiss to my lips as he says it.
“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” I grunt as we make our way through the snow and into the back of the warm bakery. “I hate that they’re telling her to keep their presence a secret. It’s beyond creepy. And I’m going to work overtime to put an end to it. We have enough on our plate. We don’t need to add some maniac after our daughter to the mix.”
“I hear you,” he says, taking a fresh brownie wedge from a cookie sheet. “Noah’s at the station, dropping off Verity’s phone, which is also something that highly concerns me. Someone stuffed that phone into Evie’s purse the night of the murder. They’ve been planning on using her from the beginning.”