Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery Addison Moore (the reading strategies book .txt) 📖

Wow. Flo sure has a lot of energy. I would have been wiped out after that first go-round. I’m not too much of a fighter. I’m much more of a lover, as evidenced by the sugar cookie growing in my belly.

Everett strides up with his tie askew, and I straighten it for him with a laugh.

“Made your escape?” I tease.

“Lemon, those girls weren’t interested in dancing. Thankfully, a group of boys wandered over and I was able to ditch them. Cormack accosted Noah.” He glances back, and we spot poor Noah trying to get away from Cormack Featherby’s grabby—and judging by the length of her fingernails—stabby hands.

Once upon a time in high school, Noah and Everett fought over that spindly blonde socialite. She was dating Everett, and then Noah had the bad sense to steal her away from him. And, well, Noah and Everett haven’t gotten along too well ever since. Cormack, however, has turned into a full-blown stalker. She happens to be the self-professed president of the Noah Fox Fan Club and does her best to dig her claws in him at every turn. And judging by the way she’s wrapped her wrist around his tie, he’s not getting away anytime soon.

“Come on.” I pull Everett by his tie as I lead him to the dessert table with a wink. “Let’s eat our way into the new year.”

His brows twitch up and down. “Have I ever told you, you have the best ideas?”

“Only every night in the bedroom.” I give a cheeky smile.

Everett and I indulge in the breakfast-inspired sweet treat buffet I’ve provided, and we both moan our way through bite after bite of those extra soft and lofty waffles.

“Lemon.” Everett closes his eyes a moment. “I think I found the one food I could live off of. How about I help you whip up a batch of these tomorrow afternoon—right after we sleep in until noon?” He lands a maple-flavored kiss to my lips.

“Done. And have I told you how irresistible I find you in the kitchen? That’s saying a lot since I can’t get enough of you in just about any other room.”

A rumble of a laugh rattles through him as he pulls me close.

“I can’t wait for this new year to begin, Lemon. The construction on our new home, the baby—this is going to be the best year yet.”

Just last week for Christmas, Everett surprised me with plans for a mega house to be built over the two properties where we lived up until our respective homes burned to the ground last October. We were next-door neighbors, and lived directly across the street from Noah out on Country Cottage Road. Now, we rent the house that sits next to the one I lost, and we’re living together for the very first time. Even though we’ve been married for exactly a year now—the marriage was more or less a business transition in the beginning—we’ve only been living together for a month. Evie and Carlotta live with us, too, along with my sweet cats, Pancake and Waffles, a couple of ornery yet loveable Himalayan brothers.

The music changes to something slower, and Everett and I quickly gobble down our food.

“Come on, Lemon.” Everett tucks a kiss to my cheek. “I need to dance with my beautiful wife one last time before the year is up. I hear it brings good luck.”

“Ha!” I laugh at the thought. “You do realize I’m not exactly a rabbit’s foot. More like a corpse magnet.” It’s true. I’ve stumbled upon more than my fair share of dead bodies as of late. As soon as the homicide rate skyrocketed in Honey Hollow, it seemed I was right there to catalog them all, and each of those homicide victims just so happened to be noshing on one of my sweet treats. Suffice it to say, a person or two has accused me of nefarious marketing practices.

We step over a few feet as he wraps his arms around me and we begin to sway to the music. I lean my head on his chest and listen to the steady thump thump thump of his heart, and I give a dreamy sigh. My body just so happens to be turned at an angle to accommodate my bourgeoning belly, but Everett has his hand over it, and every now and again the baby rewards him with a kick. And every time the baby gives him five, he drops a kiss to the top of my head.

A pink hurricane zips over to the buffet and catches my attention as she makes a plate of my waffles, ten high at least. It’s Florenza Canelli, and boy, does she look furious. Can’t blame her. She seems to be having a rather explosive end to this old year. Hopefully, she won’t have any more blowouts with a single person in the year to come.

The music changes pace to something livelier just as the DJ takes over the mic and announces that it’s time to do the official New Year’s Eve countdown. The room swirls with bodies as everyone quickly finds their loved ones and friends.

Noah comes this way and I pull him in, wrapping my right arm around Everett’s waist and my left arm around Noah’s as we count back from ten together.

“Three, two, one!” we shout in unison.

“Happy New Year!” the room breaks out into cheers just as a series of four loud pops goes off, detonating so loud there’s no mistake as to what made that horrific sound.

Screams break out as people scatter, and both Noah and Everett shield me with their bodies.

Noah pulls back and draws his weapon as the room devolves into utter chaos.

Lying on the floor to our right with a bullet wound through her chest is Florenza Canelli. Her legs and arms are splayed, and she just so happens to have an entire waffle caught between her teeth.

Florenza Canelli won’t have to worry about having any more blowouts in the year to come.

Angel Face Flo