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

your first official Mother’s Day, Lottie. Last year you and Evie weren’t nearly as close as you are now, and now you’ve got this little dancing doll, too. All of you are invited to share in the festivities,” she says, looking to those around us. “Brunch will be served.”

Both Noah and Everett perk up at the prospect of food.

“Thanks, Mom,” I tell her. “And yes to both. I’ll gladly cater to the church and to your brunch. Hey, while you were at the church, did you by chance see Olive St. James? I was thinking of stopping by and chatting with her.”

“I sure did. But you won’t find Olive there. She mentioned she was leaving after her next client. She said it was a family member’s birthday and she was headed to some barbecue place in Leeds.”

“Which barbecue place?” I say as a spear of excitement rockets through me at the thought of sinking my teeth into a nice, juicy rib.

“Oh”—Mom squints to the ceiling while bobbing Lyla Nell up and down—“Smoky Bears?” She shakes her head. “No, that wasn’t it. Smothered and Buttered?”

Everett grunts, “I’m getting hungry just thinking about it.”

Noah nods. “This is one assignment we’re not missing out on.”

“Smoke in the Toke?” Mom shakes her head.

“Smoked and Smothered,” Charlie says, holding up her phone.

“That’s it!” Mom snaps her fingers and shouts.

Lyla Nell jerks then sucks in her bottom lip, and for a moment not a single soul breathes in fear that she might break out into an ear-piercing aria, but she breaks out into and ear-to-ear smile instead and treats us to those Fox-issued dimples.

A choir of coos breaks out at the sight of her.

Charlie steps over and slings her arm over my shoulder. “Well, sis, it looks like we’re about to have us some barbecue for dinner.”

I make a face at my sweet little sugar cookie. “Lyla Nell has had a pretty full day. I just don’t know if she’ll be able to handle all the stimuli of a loud restaurant at rush hour.”

Everett steps up beside me. “That’s what we’ve got Noah for. He’ll babysit while we have a hot date.”

Suze scoffs. “See that, Noah? I bet they fudged the paternity results for just such occasions.”

“That’s right, Suze.” I glance to the ceiling. “Everett and I figured Noah would be much cheaper than hiring a babysitter.”

A croaking noise comes from Suze as she shakes her head at Noah.

Evie hops over, winded from the workout Carlotta just led her into. “I’ll do it, Mom. I’ll watch the cute dimple-faced squirt. I’m thinking Dash’s video needs a cameo by a cute little show-stealer.”

“Don’t do it, kid.” Carlotta shakes her head. “There are two things you never want to let upstage you—babies and animals.”

Evie sucks in a quick breath. “Great idea! I’ll put Pancake and Waffles in the video, too. Dash is going to break every chart with this one.” She skips off while tapping at her phone.

“I guess we’re going to dinner.” I waggle my brows at Noah and Everett. “Smoked and Smothered, here we come.”

As Terri’s counselor, I bet Olive knows all of Terri’s deep, dark secrets. Let’s see if I can get her to spill a secret or two over a pulled pork sandwich.

And maybe, just maybe, with her help, I’ll be able to smoke out the killer.

Lottie

If there were a nicer end of Leeds, Smoked and Smothered would be located there.

But since there’s no such thing, here we are in the armpit of that drug king, mob boss, gentlemen’s club central town. But none of that seems to matter at the moment because the thick heavenly scent of smoky barbecue has infiltrated our senses. The entire lot of us staggers toward the rusted metal and wood structure, moaning as if we were reenacting the Dawn of the Dead.

It’s Everett, Noah, Carlotta, Charlie, and me. Everett drove us all down in his new-ish SUV. He picked it up a couple months back once Jimmy Canelli blew up his fancy sedan, and boy, does it ever deliver a luxurious ride. It seats eight and I have a sneaking suspicion that we’ll need every seat available for our brood. Once I get my hands on Everett again, I may not be able to stop.

Everett shakes his head. “Why haven’t we been here before?” he marvels as he stares up at the large blinking neon sign that bears the restaurant’s moniker, Smoked and Smothered, with a picture of a chubby pink pig winking down at us while wearing a cowboy hat.

Noah shakes his head as well. “How did we not get a whiff of this place from Red Satin?”

Red Satin is the dicey gentlemen’s club about three blocks north of here. My sister works there as the lion tamer slash dance instructor and we’ve racked more hours there investigating than I’d like to count. In fact, I’ve made a few bucks just walking through the place. It turns out, the lighting is poor and that works in just about any woman’s favor who dares to set foot into that den of depravity.

“This place is downwind of our usual haunts,” I point out. “But now that we know it’s here, it’d be sacrilegious not to stop in each time we’re in Leeds and reaffirm the fact we’re carnivores.”

“I’m spending my lunch hours here,” Noah says, opening the door to the establishment for us.

“I’ll be joining you,” Everett says.

Carlotta snorts. “Hear that, Lot? Foxy and Sexy finally found an acceptable replacement for you. Smoked meat.”

“I’m about to replace myself with it,” I tell her, and I mean it, too.

Both Carlotta and Charlie have donned little black dresses as if we were about to go clubbing, and I’ll admit, I felt a slight pang of some yet unidentified emotion when I saw them in their matching outfits. A pang of what I don’t know. But clearly I didn’t get the memo. I’m still in my jeans—maternity jeans no less, let’s not get carried away—and blue and white checkered blouse—but