Baby Bundt Cake Confusion (Murder in the Mix Book 31) Unknown (good beach reads .txt) 📖

fine when she gives birth. She likes pain. Why do you think she lets Carlotta live with us?”

“Good point,” I mutter. In fact, I’m about to expound on that when my stomach decides to harden to a ball of concrete, and this time I grip it as a cry emits from me.

“Lemon?” Everett holds me up as my knees begin to buckle from the outrageous amount of pain ricocheting through me.

“Lottie?” Noah’s voice hikes with panic as he steps into my line of vision. “Are you okay?”

The pain increases exponentially and a hard groan rips from me, answering his question with a roar right to his face.

Everett and Noah whisk me off to Honey Hollow General Hospital before I have the chance to pack a baby bag, solve a double homicide, or shove an entire lemon Bundt cake into my face.

This baby isn’t waiting for its due date.

I have a feeling we’re about to meet our little sugar cookie today.

Lottie

“Breathe, Lottie, breathe!” Noah barks in my ear like a drill sergeant as I huff and puff, and mostly waddle my way into the mouth of Honey Hollow General Hospital. Everett procures a wheelchair and whisks me off to the third floor, where we enter the labor and delivery unit.

The lights are bright, it holds the strange scent of ketchup and bleach, and the sound of two women taking turns screaming their lungs off makes every muscle in my body freeze solid.

A kind nurse quickly sets me up in a room, and Everett helps me into a gown as the nurse attaches a bevy of probes to my blooming belly. Noah runs back into the room with a pair of fuzzy blue socks.

“I got these from the nurses’ station, Lot,” he says, quickly helping me put them on my feet because God knows there was no chance of me doing that myself.

“Thank you,” I say, sinking back into the pillow. “Now what?” I ask the nurse as she lays a warm blanket over me.

“Now you wait. Dr. Barnette should be here in an hour or two.”

“An hour or two?” I hike up on my elbows. “What do you mean? I could have the baby by then.”

“Oh”—she breaks out into a robust laugh—“I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon. You haven’t had a single contraction since I’ve hooked you up to the monitor. But don’t hesitate to buzz me if anything exciting happens. Like, if your contractions are suddenly five minutes apart, or your water breaks.” She takes off and that choir of screaming women goes off as clear as if they were howling in our ears.

My word, it sounds like a horror movie in the making.

“Those women should sue,” I say.

Everett winces. “I’ll admit, it’s hard to listen to. Don’t worry, Lemon. I won’t let that happen to you.”

I nod. “That’s because we have a plan. As soon as I feel my next twinge, you find the anesthesiologist.”

Noah frowns over at me. “I thought I was your drug runner.”

“You both are,” I say. “I can’t take any chances.”

One of the women ramps up her screams, and every hair on my body stands on end. And following her horrific aria is the sound of cheers, and then the sound of a tiny bleating lamb.

I suck in a quick breath as tears come to my eyes.

“She just had the baby!” I can’t help but coo.

Noah nods. “And she’s not screaming anymore. The baby’s taken over in that department.”

“It’s happening, Lemon. And soon we’ll be holding our baby in our arms.”

Another pain grips me and I nearly double over. Everett holds my hand while Noah rubs my feet as I breathe my way through it, and as soon as it subsides Everett pulls out his phone.

“I’m calling Priscilla.” He steps to the side.

Yes, Everett is on a first name basis with Dr. Barnette. And more to the point, Dr. Barnette is on a first name basis with Essex. But despite their carnal knowledge of one another, I don’t hold it against Dr. Barnette. Everett was quite the playboy before we met, and there’s nothing anyone can do to change that.

“She’s on her way,” he says, shoving his phone into his pocket.

Noah gives a wistful shake of the head. “It must be nice having friends in high places. Speaking of which, the sheriff said I could unofficially help with the case.”

“Noah, that’s great,” I say as a little laugh trickles from me. “When are they going to finish the review so you can be official once again?” How I hate that Everett is taking the fall for Florenza Canelli’s corpse catastrophe, but if Noah can get reinstated he absolutely should. I believe Everett will be vindicated, too—even though we’re all guilty as sin.

Noah’s dimples dig in. “He didn’t say when, but he did say we needed the process to play out. Don’t worry, Lot. I have a good feeling about this. I’ll be employed again in no time.”

“Good,” I say. “And so will you, Everett. Have you talked to Fiona?”

“Court date is in a month, and once that ball gets rolling we’ll know where we land. The judge given the case is a good friend of mine. Now let’s hope I can win some favor and elicit some doubt with the jury.”

“You will.” I press my lips tightly because I really don’t want to say what’s about to bubble up out of me. “Everett, have you seen any sign of the Canellis?”

Jimmy Canelli put a blatant hit out on Everett, and I’m terrified I’m going to find my husband on the ground with a bullet wound one day.

Everett and Noah exchange a dark glance, but before they can say anything, the door swings open and in strides Dr. Barnette.

Dr. Barnette is a stunning brunette with a picket fence smile and sparkling blue eyes. She’s about as no-nonsense as you can get and has been brutally honest with the three of us—regarding the paternity of this child. She said it would be tough on