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tighter than Everett just did.

Something is up. And I have a feeling the mob has nothing to do with it this time.

Carlotta and Everett are holding something back.

And I have never been more curious in my life.

Lottie

It’s April and it’s officially springtime in Honey Hollow. The sun is out, the air is warm, and both the flowers and the evergreens are releasing their fragrant scents to perfume every last inch of our cozy town.

Easter is right around the corner, and everywhere you look there’s a chocolate bunny for sale, Easter baskets with their neon plastic grass, egg decorating kits from simple to the elaborate, and cutouts of cute little bunnies.

Now that I have Lyla Nell, the holiday seems ten times as festive as it did before. I can’t wait to decorate eggs with her, bake cookies, and dress up for Sunday service in our frilliest dresses. From here on out, every holiday, every day will be that much more special because of her.

Currently, I’m standing right in the middle of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery giving Lyla Nell the official tour. I’ve brought her in before, but each time she was sound sleep, unaware of her surroundings, much less how much this place means to me. The walls are yellow, the furniture is mix and match pastel, and the entire shop is permeated with the scent of fresh baked, vanilla rich chocolate chip cookies.

I had Lily and Suze decorate the counters with bunnies, Easter grass, and string lights in the shape of colorful plastic eggs. This time of year I always have cookie baskets available for purchase, and no matter how many we set out, we always seem to sell out by the end of the day. Of course, I’ve included my current bestseller, chocolate chip cookies, but you’ll find iced sugar cookies in the shape of bunnies, elaborated decorated eggs and carrots, along with raspberry thumbprints, a few peanut butter cookies, macarons, lemon coolers, and snickerdoodles, too.

“See that passageway into the next room?” I say, holding her close to me in the fuzzy carrier I have her strapped to my chest. Her chest is warming mine as she looks in the direction I’m pointing. “That leads right to the Honey Pot Diner. My grandma Nell used to own it. She owned a lot of things and left the lion’s share to me in her will. I think she felt bad because she was forced to hide the fact we were family for so long. But I don’t hold it against her. She had made a promise to Carlotta that she wouldn’t rat out my true identity and was keeping her word. Anyway, do you see that large oak tree in the middle of the dining room over there? It’s fake if you can believe it. I know, it looks real, especially the way the branches shoot across the ceiling and come right this way over the ceiling of the bakery, too. My favorite part? I love the twinkle lights they’re wrapped in,” I say, pointing up and Lyla Nell’s gaze follows my finger. “We painted this place the color of butter, my favorite food group if you must know, but I’m open to suggestions if you have other ideas. We’re a team now, you and me. I just hope you grow up loving to bake as much as I do. I can’t wait to teach you everything I know. And if you’re extra good, I might just give you my secret recipes, too. Heck, I’ll give you those anyway.”

A laugh strums from me as I take in her dark hair and sweet large eyes, her lips glossed with drool as she blinks up at me, and don’t get me started on those cheeks. They’re filling in nicely, and I’ve been munching on them every chance I get. I can’t help it. I can’t stop kissing her nose, her toes, and her cute little belly. I’m obsessed with kissing my little girl about as much as I am dressing her up. In fact, I just put her in a frilly pink and white dress with cupcakes printed all over it and finished off the look with a giant pink bow. She has just enough hair to keep the clip from slipping out, so I fashioned a tiny ponytail that shoots straight up from the top of her head like a palm tree.

“Lottie Lemon”—Keelie calls from the register—“bring that baby here. You’re hogging all my Lyla Nell time. Lyla and I have a special bond because we share the same middle name.”

Lily scoffs as she finishes up with customers. “Face it, Keelie, you might be Lottie’s best friend, but she named her kid after me. Thanks, Lot. I knew you were secretly obsessed with me.”

I avert my eyes at that one. “You’ve figured me out, Lily. I hope Lyla Nell lives up to your standards,” I tease.

Everett and I thought we’d drive to the bakery this afternoon, the very next day after that unfortunate event that played out at the studio. Carlotta came home yesterday with a chicken leg in each hand touting her hard-won victory against the po-po. Evie thought it was hilarious. Me? I wasn’t exactly laughing.

I head over to Keelie and she quickly excavates Lyla Nell from the carrier, so I take it off and set it on the stool next to Everett. My official plus one looks like a handsome devil today—much like every day, with his powder blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a pair of jeans to go along with it. Since he’s been banned from the courthouse, he’s ditched the suits for flannels and casual dress shirts like this one. And the female population has taken note of his extra sexy wear. And I happen to be leading the pack.

Keelie bounces Lyla Nell, and my sweet babe rewards her with a husky gurgle.

Keelie Nell Fisher has been my best friend since preschool. Her blonde curls and perky giggles

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