Wicked Whoopie Pies Addison Moore (the false prince series TXT) 📖

I toss my hands up. “I’m sorry, Charlie, but that’s not happening.”

Her demeanor shifts on a dime and she’s glaring at me as if I just stole her lunch.

“Fine, have it your way. I’m going to bed.” She takes off for the hall and heads into the restroom before jetting into the next room over—mine.

“Whoa,” I say, following her. “What the heck is happening here?” I step into the room only to find her shirt off and her thumbs hitching her jeans down a notch. Before I can process any of it, she’s in her underwear, then slipping between my sheets.

“I’m too tired to head to the B&B.” She stretches her arms above her head and I glance away as the sheet falls loose. “And by the way, your ex? Cormack? I’d pull a restraining order on her if I were you.”

“Great advice. In fact, I’ll look to see if I can get a two-for-one deal. As in, I’ll be taking one out on you, too.” I flick my fingers at her. “Come on. Out. Now. It’s been a long day and the only one sleeping in that bed tonight will be me. I’m too tired to play games.”

She growls, and for a second I think she’s actually baring her teeth at me.

“Have it your way.” She flings the covers off and exposes me to far more flesh than I feel comfortable looking at.

“I’ll call for a ride,” I tell her. “Go ahead and get dressed. We can forget this ever happened.”

She pulls out a phone from God knows where and starts snapping pictures of herself as she grips my headboard.

“What the hell?”

“Relax,” she bites back. “I’m just taking a few shots for posterity. What are you going to do? Arrest me?”

“Yes, maybe.” But I have a feeling she’d use my handcuffs against me, so I opt not to pull them out. Instead, I pull out my own phone and get a car down here stat to give her a lift to the B&B. It’s a nice night. She could walk, it’s not that far, but seeing how she’s prone to losing her clothes, she’d probably get arrested for public nudity.

Charlie puts herself together—mostly, and heads out front where a woman in a minivan not too different from Lottie’s is waiting for her.

“Night, Noah.” Charlie blows me a kiss. “I had lots of fun. We should do it again sometime.”

She hops into the van and it mercifully zips off.

Toby bounds out of the house and sniffs around the lawn, readying to do his nightly business just as I spot a glowing angel traipsing out of the house from across the street. It’s Lottie in a pink nightgown as she makes her way to me.

“Where did Charlie go?” Her voice is in a panic. “Everett’s in the shower. I’m hoping to God she didn’t sneak in the bathroom.”

“No, she snuck into the bedroom. Mine.”

Lottie winces. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for her. If you start, you might be doing it for a very long time.” I pull her in. “Go get some rest. I know Lyla Nell isn’t giving you any sleep.”

She makes a face. “You didn’t by chance program her that way?”

“I might have if given the chance.” I wink. “But only to make Everett reminisce fondly of his restful nights as a bachelor.”

“I think we both know Everett’s nights as a bachelor were anything but restful.”

We share a warm laugh and I land a kiss to her cheek. “Get to bed. Mine is still an option, by the way. If I remember correctly, Everett can take a good three hours in the bathroom. We’ve got time.”

“Very funny.” She gives the scruff on my cheeks a quick scratch. “Thank you for being too smart to fall for any of my nutty sister’s tricks. It looks as if we both have quirky relatives.”

I wish her a good night and watch as she heads across the street and into the house—into that bed Everett is waiting to dive into with her, and I can’t help but frown.

It should be me. If the roles were reversed, Charlie would have gotten lucky with him.

My phone bleats in my pocket and I fish it out. It’s a text from my own nutty family member, my father.

Jimmy says it’s time to pay up the rest of what I owe him. I need your help. He’s gonna kill me, Noah. You’re my only hope.

I take a deep lungful of night air and shake my head.

Something tells me dealing with my nutty relatives will be a heck of a lot more dangerous than hers.

Jimmy Canelli wants money, a pile of it, or my father gets it.

I have a feeling I’ll be the only one that gets it in the end.

Lottie

I know what you’ve done.

That note Terri showed me just minutes before she died rotates through my mind on a loop.

What had Terri done?

And who was sending that quasi-threatening note?

It’s creepy. It makes me wonder what the rest of the notes she received said. She mentioned she had a drawer full of them at home. I told Noah all about it and he said he’d look into getting a search warrant, asap.

The Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery is flooded with patrons this afternoon and our whoopie pies are flying right off the shelves as if they were magically inclined to do so. The scent of fresh baked chocolate cake—or chocolate whoopies—has been wafting all the way down Main Street and the customers have been hypnotically streaming through the door. Even a few of the local shop owners have stopped by to pick up a dozen or so for their patrons. And they all made a point to tell me that I don’t play fair when it comes to luring in the customers.

Mom stopped by to get her Lyla Nell fix and has been chatting away with her while enjoying a stack of whoopie pies herself.

“Oh, Lottie.” She moans through a bite while Lyla Nell tries her best to grab it.