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

had to, I wanted to. It’s Mother’s Day, and I need to make sure everything is special for Lemon from start to finish. Thankfully, Lemon is still sleeping when I get out of bed. I head for the kitchen, and Evie is right there by my side helping me whip up a breakfast for the ages—eggs, bacon, biscuits, gravy, pancakes, and waffles, too. Evie thought the pancakes and waffles would be a nice touch and suggested we say that portion of the meal was from the cats.

Evie brews the coffee and I squeeze the OJ with a little help from the juicer. I head out back to retrieve the red roses I had hidden below the rear porch yesterday in an effort to keep them from Lemon.

Once I hit the kitchen again, I find Noah looking ready for the day with a dozen red roses himself. His cheek hardly flickers my way when he sees me.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” I say as I freshen the water in the vase I’m holding.

Evie hops over. “Uncle Noah says he’s zonked. And by the way, I saw you both at prom. Congratulations. I didn’t go to the after party. And I forgot to set my alarm to watch the sunrise at Honey Lake.” She rolls her eyes. “Who are we kidding? I was zonked myself. I wasn’t about to waste my sweet sleep to shiver on the shores of a glorified swamp. I’d better go get the tray table for Mom. I’ll be right back.” She dances off and I set the flowers down before studying Noah a moment.

“Unless you can hear Lyla Nell clear across the street, you don’t have a right to be zonked. What’s going on with you?”

Noah tips his head back a notch, his eyes flitting to the kitchen window. It’s not that ticked look on his face that tells me the story, it’s his silence.

“Jimmy gave you the litmus test, didn’t he?”

Noah’s eyes cut to mine, and his chest expands as if he’s weighing his options.

“What about you, Baxter? You’re still alive. I know for a fact that hit is still on. Did you go running back to the Morettis?”

I’m not about to fill Noah in on the fact I was forced to switch lanes and drifted dangerously into Lazzari territory.

“Something like that,” I tell him.

He studies me a moment before giving a single nod.

“And?” His eyes don’t bother straying from mine. “Did you get your litmus test yet?”

I close my eyes a moment as that text Luke Lazzari sent last night comes to mind.

I have twenty-four hours to complete my mission.

Do or die.

Start washing a briefcase full of money or suffer the consequences.

Dying is certainly an option.

Evie runs through my mind, Lyla Nell, and Lemon. I see their faces on a loop.

Evie comes back in with the tray table before I can answer, and the three of us head into the bedroom with it, flowers in hand, as Evie leads us into a spontaneous rendition of “Happy Mother’s Day” set to “Happy Birthday”.

Lyla Nell is already up and squirming with laughter and Noah scoops her into his arms.

But Lemon is struggling to open her eyes as she gives a lazy smile, doing her best to sit up in bed.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “Wow, look at all this! She takes in the flowers and the breakfast as she presses her hand to her chest. “I love you all so much.”

We quickly return the sentiment as she takes a careful sip from her coffee.

“I’m the luckiest mom alive,” she says, pulling Evie close and landing a kiss to her cheek.

Lyla Nell lets out a yelp as if agreeing, and we all share a quick laugh.

Lemon reaches up and gently grasps Lyla Nell’s foot before looking at me. “Oh, Everett, she hates sleep. She might even hate us.”

“She might just hate me,” I tease.

Noah frowns my way. “Lyla Nell doesn’t hate anyone. But she does seem hungry.”

He hands her to Lemon, who quickly complies with Lyla Nell’s breakfast order, just as her phone goes off. She inspects it and moans.

“Perfect,” she says. “The bakery needs help delivering the goodies for the Mother’s Day brunch to the B&B.”

“I’ll do it,” I volunteer.

“Would you?” She bites down on a pained smile. “Thank you so much. But then hurry back because we still need to get to church. They’re giving us the results of last night’s vote. I can’t wait to see how things shook out.”

“I will. I’ll be as quick as I can.” I dot a kiss to Lemon and Lyla Nell, then Evie. A part of me wonders if those will be the last pure kisses before I step over to the dark side of the law. I’m still not sure I’ve got it in me.

I take off with that briefcase full of money burning a hole right through my soul and land my shiny SUV right in front of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery.

I sit in front of that establishment far longer than necessary contemplating, thinking, scheming, cursing myself in general when I spot Sergio Sorrentino across the street opening up Mangias for the day. Sergio who was accused of cooking the books.

Sergio…

My eyes drift to that briefcase as the birth of an idea begins to percolate in my mind.

Lottie

The Rendezvous Luxury Resort and Razzle Dazzle Day Spa glows like a hot pink peony under the warmth of a springtime sun, and I can’t help but make a face as I step in through the front doors and take in the hot pink glory glaring back at me.

What I wouldn’t do to yank Cormack’s fifty percent ownership from underneath her and give this place right back to my mother where it belongs. I miss the warm wood tones, the warmth in general that this place used to exude. Instead, I’m met with hot pink floors. To my right there’s an oversized gilded mirror that not only holds my reflection, but holds an image of little Lea holding up