Things just officially got weird.
Lottie
“So I was right,” I fume as I set down a platter of my raspberry tarts on the counter for Noah, Evie, and Carlotta to enjoy.
It’s snowing gently outside the window of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery and the afternoon rush just died down. I just pulled out a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies from the oven and the entire bakery—and most likely all of Main Street—holds the warm sugary scent.
The bakery is light and bright with butter yellow walls and pastel mix and match furniture. There’s a walkway through a shared wall to the Honey Pot Diner next door. My Grandma Nell once owned both the bakery and the Honey Pot, and now they’re both owned by me.
But the crowning jewel of both establishments is the life-sized resin oak tree that sits in the middle of the Honey Pot. Its branches stretch over the ceiling and right over the ceiling of the café portion of my bakery. Each branch is wrapped in twinkle lights and it makes the place look magical.
Noah just finished telling Evie, Carlotta, and me about his visit to Ashford. I had asked how it went with Everett, and he more or less told me, but I know Noah Fox well enough to realize that something wasn’t sitting right with him. And so I poked and I prodded until he spilled the Ivy Fairbanks’ beans.
I growl over at him, “I’ve always known she’s had the hots for you.”
“So what are you going to do, Uncle Noah?” Evie asks as she blindly snaps up a raspberry tart without taking her eyes off her phone.
“What do you mean, what’s he going to do?” I scoff over at her before quickly landing a few of Noah’s favorite chocolate chip cookies on his plate as well. “Noah, you’re not dating Ivy, are you?” My voice hikes in a panic without my permission.
Noah waggles his brows. “Am I sensing a hint of jealousy, Lottie Lemon?”
“I’ll help you make her jealous.” Lily Swanson, a sassy brunette, is my chief employee here at the bakery. She flings a kitchen towel over her shoulder before giving me a wink. “I’m kidding, Lottie. You can relax. In fact, now that we’ve slowed to a crawl around here, I think I’ll go finish decorating for Valentine’s Day. The last thing I want is to get on your bad side and find myself with a poison tart in my mouth.” She scoops a box of decorations off the floor and heads to the front window to finish festooning it with foil hearts and cutouts of Cupid.
“I hate to break it to you, Lot Lot”—Carlotta chuckles—“but technically, Foxy can date whomever he wants. You’re leashed to Mr. Sexy, remember?”
Evie pretends to gag. “Please forgo from referring to my dad in any disgusting manner. Nobody wants to hear about how sexy their dad is.”
“But it’s true, kiddo.” Carlotta gives a wistful tick of the head. “It’s going to be a dark day for the women of this world once they give him life behind bars. But on a bright note, all those criminal chasers will be pouncing on the fresh meat. Some women can’t resist a handsome prisoner. There’s just something about those conjugal visits that keeps them coming back for more.”
“Eww.” Evie tosses a piece of her tart at Carlotta, and I’m certainly not going to reprimand her for it.
“Nobody is having a conjugal visit with Everett. He’s not spending the rest of his life behind bars,” I hiss over at Carlotta.
“Don’t despair”—she waves me down— “there’s still a chance he can. And once Sexy dons the prison blues, you’ll have an official in-mate of your own, Lot Lot. You’re gonna appreciate that visitation lovin’.”
I make a face her way. “Why do I get the feeling you’re speaking from experience?”
Noah’s chest bucks with a laugh. “I think you’ve just been outed, Carlotta.”
She waves him off. “I don’t kiss and tell.” She winks over at me. “Not in front of the children at least. Tonight, when you and Foxy curl up by the fire, I’ll regale you with an erotic tale to help set the mood.”
“We don’t need a mood set.” I shoot her a look for even suggesting it. “I’m not hopping into bed with Noah just because Everett is currently indisposed.”
“Oh yeah?” Evie lifts a brow, her eyes still very much glued to her screen. “Then why did I see Uncle Noah sneaking out of your bedroom at six this morning?”
“Noah?” I gasp. “Did you spend the night in my bedroom?”
“I fell asleep after I read to the baby.” His dimples dig in deep. “And I wanted to make sure you had someone there in the event you needed anything.”
“Aw,” I coo. “Thank you. I think.” A foot knocks me in the ribs and I buck. “Ooh, the baby just thanked you, too.”
“That’s because it’s mine.” A greedy grin takes over his face as he says it.
Evie lets out a sharp gasp before I can say another word.
“What is it?” I do my best to crane my neck at whatever it is that has her fully immersed on her phone.
“No freaking way!” Evie howls just as my mother waltzes in with a little yellow bag in her hand. She has a red and pink plaid blazer peeking out from under her winter coat and her cherry red lipstick looks freshly applied. My mother has looked impeccably put together for
