this holiday season. Least of all not Evie. I can’t believe she wants to steal away with a bunch of friends like that, and she’s spending far too much time with those two knuckleheads if you ask me.”
“Go easy on her. We probably would have done the same thing at her age.”
His eyes squeeze tightly a moment. “I did.” His hand drifts to my belly. “How are you feeling?”
I bite down on my lip to keep from telling him about the soccer session the baby just had with Noah.
“I’m feeling like I can go for a cruller drizzled with buffalo sauce. Please tell me that’s not the worst culinary combination you’ve heard of because a part of me is entertaining the idea of selling buffalo crullers next.”
His eyes widen a notch. “I’d hold off on adding new menu items until after the baby is born.”
I pull him close and take in that spiced cologne of his and that strange sweet afterbite hits me once again.
“Did you change colognes?”
He ticks his head back a notch. “Nope. I’m a one-hit wonder in that department. Why? Is it making you sick? I can stop.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just—” A snowball whizzes past us, narrowly missing Everett’s head, and before we know it, an entire arsenal of the white rock-solid balls go flying.
We step out past the evergreen blazing with thousands of twinkle lights just as Everett is pegged with a snowball to the back of the head.
“Someone is going to die,” he grouses as we turn to find Noah standing there with an ear-to-ear grin. “Take cover, Lemon,” Everett says as he begins to gather his ammunition.
I spot Carlotta and my mother huddled under Nelson, laughing at the chaos breaking out around us. And I dash over as the three of us watch Everett beam Noah right in the chest with what looks to be a two hundred mile per hour fastball.
Carlotta belts out a laugh. “That was a heart-stopper, all right. I bet we see frozen nuclear missiles strong enough to blow someone’s skull apart.”
“Oh.” Mom waves Carlotta off. “Those boys are just having a little fun. It’s snow play is all it is.” Mom gasps as she looks to her left. “There’s that Elodie Frost again trying to get friendly with my man. Some women just can’t take a hint.” She speeds that way, pausing momentarily to gather up some snow and tossing it at the two of them. Soon, Elodie, Wiley, and an entire gaggle of people I don’t recognize have the snow flying—albeit in a far more friendlier fashion than Noah and Everett.
No, these two men are definitely out for blood. Noah pegs Everett hard in the side, causing Everett to double over for a second. Then Everett exacts his revenge, assaulting Noah with one vicious icy ball after the next until Noah’s body is bucking as it takes blow after blow. And once Everett slows down, Noah gets a few good ones in, too.
Carlotta nudges me with her arm. “Something tells me that’s a pattern that will go on to repeat itself for the rest of time.”
“Let’s hope a couple of innocent snowballs remain their weapon of choice.”
Something tells me they won’t.
The night dies down, and soon Everett and I are navigating our way through that pamphlet Dr. Barnette gave us this afternoon. And I am loving every inch of Everett’s newly healed arm, of Everett himself. And Everett loves me right back.
Our weapon of choice is kisses, and we fire them off as freely as we can.
Gloria Abner’s killer had a weapon of choice, too.
A gun. And the more I think about it, the more I realize that gun must have been traced to an owner by now.
Something tells me Detective Noah Fox is holding out on me.
And I’ll make sure whatever that man is keeping under wraps is about to be revealed to me.
I’ve got my ways.
My weapon of choice?
Donuts.
Chapter 10
The bakery is glowing with twinkle lights as the afternoon grows darker by the second.
A storm is moving this way and should be here by tonight, and as much as everyone seems to be dreading it, I can’t help but feel downright cozy at the thought of it. I can’t wait to curl up by the fire with my family and sweet cats. My life may not seem ideal to the judgmental bystanders—of which several have congregated right here in my bakery this afternoon—but to me, it’s as perfect as can be.
Last night, after Everett