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

She shrugs my way. “Let the boys play,” she says. “We’ve got a game of our own to partake in.”

I nod her way. And something tells me she’s played breaking and entering roulette before.

Lottie

I ask Mayor Nash to drop us off at Lainey’s house and he does just that. I didn’t dare speak about the true nature of our chosen locale because I’d hate for there to be any political blowback for him.

He’s been the mayor of Honey Hollow for as long as I can remember and I’d hate for some goofy misstep of mine to cause his career any harm. And with me around, it’s a very real possibility—just ask Noah or Everett. Noah has only been reinstated for a month, and Everett, well, he hasn’t seen the inside of his chambers since late December. And, boy, how I miss the inside of his chambers.

Hey? I bet if I can have my mother watch Lyla Nell now and again, I can hand deliver some sweet treats to Everett’s private chambers when he gets back to work. The future looks delicious indeed.

Lyla Nell. I whimper just thinking about her. I can’t stand being away from her. And every time we’re separated, I’m merely counting down the minutes until we’re reunited.

My chest starts to tingle, and just like that, my blouse is instantly soaked.

I gasp as I look down at the horror.

“Oh great. I just sprang a leak,” I whisper, quickly working off the pricey silk blouse that must have set Noah back a fortune.

It’s dark on Maple Leaf Drive. The streetlamp down the street is so dim, it’s pretty much worthless. The night air is warm and scented with honeysuckle and fresh cut lawns. I arranged for Charlie, Carlotta, and me to leave our purses in the back of Mayor Nash’s car so that they wouldn’t encumber us. And let’s face it, that decreases the odds of Carlotta and Charlie sprinkling the contents of their purses all over the place like a trail of incriminating breadcrumbs.

“You sprang a what?” Charlie wrinkles her nose at me. “Carlotta, why is she stripping?” She shifts her gaze back my way and her eyes glow just the way mine do in dim lighting. “Did you tinkle? Good grief. You could have squatted in a bush instead of going in your pants. And by the way, you took off the wrong piece of clothing. Don’t tell me you don’t know how that works either.”

I shoot both her and Carlotta a look. “No, I didn’t tinkle,” I grouse at Charlie. “And now if you’ll both excuse me, I see a sprinkler running. I need to rinse this blouse off before it’s ruined.” I bend over at the foot of Lainey’s lawn and do just that.

“Laundry, Lot? Really?” Carlotta scoffs. “What is this? Amateur hour?” Carlotta scoffs as she pulls both Charlie and me away from Lainey’s house. “You know your sister has a couple of stethoscopes for ears.”

“You’re right,” I whisper. “She has eyes like a hawk as well. And with baby Josie still keeping her up at night, the odds are good she’s peering out the window at us right this very minute. Leave it to my leaky boobs to give us away.”

“Oh geez.” Charlie nearly hops right across the street before tiptoeing back over. “Go squeeze your udders in a bush, would you? I don’t want you getting any of that stuff on me. I don’t have kids for a reason.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” I tell her as we scamper toward the darker end of the street. “You’re not married.”

Charlie clucks her tongue my way. “Says the girl who was knocked up by two different men while she was single.”

I roll my eyes. “First, that would be impossible.” But not improbable on my part.

“And second, I was technically married to Everett.”

She nods. “Married to Everett while you let your boyfriend impregnate you? You’re a real moral pillar.”

“Oh stop,” I tell her. “I’m just trying to be a good big sister.”

“It’s too late for that,” Charlie growls while looking at Carlotta. “I had to raise myself and Carlotta out in Higgins Bottom.”

“I don’t doubt that.” A tiny yet sad laugh bubbles in my chest. “I’ve been raising Carlotta for the last two years myself.”

We share a dark laugh on our bio mother’s behalf.

“So, Higgins Bottom?” I whisper as we slink down the street and the breeze licks under my armpits. “Is that where you grew up in Arizona?”

Carlotta yanks Charlie back a notch and her eyes bug out at her youngest daughter as if threatening her with something fierce.

“Carlotta,” I say, pulling Charlie free. “Who cares if I know what town you’re from?”

“I care,” Carlotta spouts off before giving Charlie another dirty look. “And you should, too. If you give this little investigative sleuth an inch, she’ll take a nosy mile.”

I scoff. “It’s clear there’s something you don’t want me to know. Just fess up,” I tell them. “Carlotta is right, Charlie. I’ll just find out anyway.”

Charlie makes a face before nodding past me. “Isn’t this the house?” She motions up at a quaint single story with its eerily dark windows. “Blue house on the corner with lots of pots on the porch?”

“That’s it,” I say, taking it in. The street sign running perpendicular to the house catches my eye—Cranberry Lane. The sign running parallel reads Maple Leaf Drive, but that’s not the one that’s sending a shiver up my spine.

Clementine said she still lives on Cranberry Lane and that her husband jogged by Terri’s house. I guess they were close. And about a thousand thoughts sail through my mind about what could have happened between the two of them. But I put all of that out of my mind for now and get back to the task at hand.

Charlie, Carlotta, and I make our way up the cobbled walkway and to the expansive porch. And sure enough, there are enough pots lining the front to raise