Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery Addison Moore (the reading strategies book .txt) đź“–
- Author: Addison Moore
Book online «Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery Addison Moore (the reading strategies book .txt) 📖». Author Addison Moore
“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,” he continues to grunt as his face turns three shades of red then quickly purple.
Carlotta kicks her legs in the air. “Let’s break this bad boy in the old-fashioned way!” She looks my way. “If the bedroom’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.”
“Eww!” Evie groans herself. “That’s freaking gross, Carlotta. He’s, like, old. And so are you.”
“Have a candy cane and calm down, Evie,” Carlotta snips back. “Besides, I’m betting your two daddies have a feast laid out for us inside. I’ve got to put something solid in my stomach first if I want to build my stamina.”
Noah opens the door for them, and Mayor Nash staggers forward, slamming Carlotta’s head on the doorframe so hard I could swear I heard a crack. She goes limp and the rest of us gasp.
“Kidding!” She perks back to life, but her eyes look as if they’re going in two different directions.
Once they’ve disappeared inside, Evie motions to Everett and Noah.
“Come on, one of you pick Mom up so we get to the food. I’ve got to build my stamina up, too. I still have to finish decorating my room.” She steps into the house and pulls out her phone. “I’ll take a picture. I want to get Mom’s face when she sees the big reveal.”
Carlotta yelps from inside. “Come on in, Lot Lot!” She scuttles to the door with both Pancake and Waffles in her arms. “You’re not going to believe your eyes!”
Mayor Nash appears behind them with a slice of pizza in his hand. “The food’s good, too!”
Everett steps back, his lips curling at the tips, and his excitement, though somewhat muted, is darn near palpable.
“You ready to do this, Lemon?”
“No,” Noah answers for me.
“What?” Everett snips with clear irritation, in a tone that he doesn’t invoke all that much. Come to think of it—I squint over at his face, and his lower lip looks a little swollen in the corner. Boy, they really did have a knock-down, drag-out fistfight.
“I’m sorry, Lot.” Noah looks decidedly ticked himself. “But I want to carry you in. You’re only married to Everett as a part of that technicality to get his trust fund to pay out—even though that was all proven to be a scam. Deep down, I know you’re just seeing where this goes with him.” He glares at his former stepbrother. “Everett, you get Lottie in ways that I may never have her again. She’s the last thing you see at night and the first thing you see in the morning. It would mean everything to me if I could carry her over that threshold. Besides, you’ve got a broken arm and she’s with child. God forbid you drop her. You’d never forgive yourself.”
A low-lying growl emits from the deepest part of Everett.
“Fine,” he grunts. “But it means nothing. It’s merely a form of transportation.” His lips cinch together. “Are you okay with this, Lemon?”
“At this point I’d ride on Toby’s back so long as I get to see what’s happening inside.”
Noah scoops me up into his warm, strong arms and his dimples press in deep as he whisks us through the front door.
“Oh my goodness!” I suck in a sharp breath. Yes, we are in a new rental house. Yes, the furniture is not the same as it was in my last house, but none of that seems to make a difference. “This is my home.” Tears come to my eyes as Noah sets me down. “Everything is different, and yet everything is the same.”
The scent of evergreen branches mingling with pizza and the hint of Chinese food permeates my senses, and it makes me want to cry. Christmas carols are strumming through the house, and it all feels so very homey and right.
“Look at the tree!” Evie dances over to the tall evergreen set nearby the roaring fire.
And sure enough, it’s the bakery-inspired tree from the auction. Each ornament has something to do with baking—tiny rolling pins, mixing bowls, muffin tins, and miniature measuring cups. There are even ornaments in the shape of tiny cupcakes, donuts, and frosted desserts of every variety hanging from the boughs. The tiny colorful lights make it feel like the exclamation point on this cheery brand new house of ours.
The fireplace is covered with white bricks, the floors have been refinished an earthy pale gray, and there’s a thick pale rug with a pattern of pastel climbing roses set in the living room. To the right, the dining room has an elongated dark wooden table, and dotted all around it are plush stone-colored velvet chairs. But the pièce de résistance is the gingerbread house sitting on a red velvet runner right over the middle of that beautiful gleaming table. I happen to recognize that gingerbread masterpiece because it happened to come from my very own bakery.
The living room opens up to the kitchen where I can see the appliances—
“You’ve upgraded the appliances?” My mouth squares out in horror. “You did not have to do that!”
Noah shrugs. “We wanted to. The landlord said it was fine. He deducted the expenses from the rent, so it worked out.”
“Wow,” I say as I sail into the kitchen. It’s a stainless steel wonderland as far as the appliances are concerned, and they’re all top-of-the-line—even nicer than they were next door. The cabinets are painted white, and the counters are a creamy warm shade of marble. The kitchen island is covered with a buffet that consists of six pizza boxes from Mangias and about a thousand takeout containers from the Wicked Wok.
I’m about to ask how we’re supposed to eat all of this when there’s a knock at the door.
And one by one my sisters file in with their plus ones, Forest and Hook. And much to my delight, baby Josie makes an appearance, too.
Lainey hands her off to me as she looks around. “Wow, Lottie, this looks just like your old place.”
Meg nods. “It’s darn right creepy.”
Before I can respond, Mom and Wiley
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