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

Friday night and we’re two old married women with kids. Bear’s home with the baby and he says little Bear is already down for the count.”

“And as soon as Lyla Nell gets her fill, she’ll be down for the count, too. That is, until Everett and I decide to get busy. She likes to wake up and tell us to knock it off.”

Keelie lets out a whoop of a laugh and Lyla Nell giggles, too, despite the fact she’s happily nursing away.

“I remember baby Bear trying to toss up an obstacle between his papa and me when he was that age. But that was one battle we were not going to let him win. I just grabbed my man wherever we were and we stole some lovin’ where we could get it. Once, we were at some shindig at the B&B and your mother was holding the baby. Bear and I snuck off to the linen closet and made up for lost time, posthaste. If I were you, I’d stop trying to track down your next suspect and track down Mr. Sexy. Then I’d track down your mama and hand off the diaper dweller for a good five minutes.” Her lips bunch to the side. “On second thought, this is Mr. Sexy we’re talking about. Better make it ten.”

“Pfft. Ten.” I shake my head as I quickly text Everett to see where he is. “Mr. Sexy likes to take his time, and believe me, he makes it worth my while.”

He texts right back. Still in Fallbrook, decided to stop in and say hello to my mother.

“Well, that idea will have to wait. He won’t be home for a while.”

“Hey?” Her eyes brighten. “Get your mom on the horn anyway, and you and I can go out rabble-rousing, painting the town red, and chasing all the cute boys while knocking back tequila like the good old days.”

“Keelie.” I can’t help but laugh. “We never did that.”

“No, but who says it’s too late to start?”

“The only boy I want to chase down is Nelson Stalwart. Do you know him?”

She whips out her phone. “No, but I have a feeling I’m going to meet him tonight. Look at this, he’s got an Insta Pictures account!”

“God bless social media—with the exception of when Evie decides to show everyone how high her booty can bounce. What do you see?”

She makes a face as she studies her screen. “He hasn’t posted in a few days, but it’s nothing but dogs here and pictures of himself at some bar. And by the looks of it, he goes to the same bar quite often.”

“Let me see.”

She points the phone my way, and sure enough, aside from a bevy of adorable German shepherds, there he is knocking back shot glasses of brown liquor.

“Hey,” I say, tapping my finger over one of the pictures. “I think I recognize that red tufted booth he’s sitting at. That’s Red Satin.”

“Ooh, they’ve got great nachos, Lottie. Who cares if the girls are shaking their bits and pieces onstage? We could head down there and have one of our famous nacho eating contests.”

“Keelie, we have never had one of those.”

“Well, it’s not too late to start. I’m calling your mom and letting her know there’s a nacho emergency.”

She does just that, and my mother is more than thrilled to babysit Lyla Nell at my place. We close up the shop, drop Lyla Nell and her new jolly dolly off, and Keelie and I are off to Leeds to indulge in all-you-can eat nachos and hopefully a suspect, too.

Red Satin Gentlemen’s Club holds the scent of something deep-fried, a powerful clash of men’s cologne, and money. The floors, the walls, and the furnishings are all the same crimson hue as its moniker suggests. The waitresses are scantily clad, and the girls onstage are covered with glitter and not much else. There’s a rowdy crew in here tonight, and I crane my neck into the dimly lit crowd to see if I can spot that familiar face I came hoping to see.

Keelie gasps and tugs at my arms. “Look over there!” She points to a rather expansive table just shy of the stage, and to my horror I see Carlotta, Naomi, Cormack, Greer Giles, and that cute little stinker of a specter—Binky.

“What in the heck?” I don’t waste another second trying to process this mess. Instead, I take Keelie by the hand and drag her down to ground zero with me. “What’s going on?”

Naomi and Cormack look up and instantly frown my way.

“Go away, Lee Lee.” Cormack flicks her fingers at me. “We’re having our very first girls’ night.”

Keelie scoffs. “Naomi? You could have at least given me a call.”

Her salty sister shakes out her dark tresses. “You never pick up anymore. It’s always the baby this, the baby that.”

Another dark-haired beauty comes running up to the scene and quickly lands next to Naomi. “Did I miss it?” It’s Lily. She looks spit-shined to prom-worthy perfection in her sparkling navy dress. She obviously went home to change before heading down here. Keelie and I didn’t bother with a wardrobe change, but seeing how dolled up Naomi and Cormack are as well, I’m wishing I would have put in a tenth of the effort. Carlotta is her scruffy self with the exception she’s wearing a little black dress.

“Go on, Lot.” Carlotta hitches her head toward the bar. “Scat. You’re not wanted here. Can’t you see we came to have a good time?”

“If you really wanted to have a good time, you would have headed to the Ladies Lounge down the street. It’s banana hammocks galore.”

Cormack rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows the nachos are what you come here for. But besides that, tonight we’re here to support one of our own.” She nods to the stage, and I turn to see a smattering of women shaking their booties in the same way Evie was in that dicey video. Lovely.

“Go on.” Carlotta motions me away with her