Pecan Pie Predicament (Murder in the Mix #27) - Addison Moore Page 0,60
take a deep breath, my eyes never leaving his. “If this baby is yours, Noah, it’s going to have your name, I can promise you that. It’s the least I could do. You may have put me through some things, but I’ve put you through enough as well.” I take his hand and place it over my belly. “You’re a part of this, too.”
“This is the part where I would offer up a passionate kiss.” He blinks a smile. “But Everett was respectful while you were with me—outside of marrying you on the sly under the guise of his trust fund. And, until I can drum up a precarious trust fund of my own, I’m on the sidelines.”
“You’re never on the sidelines, Noah.”
He shakes his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were gunning for a kiss.”
Noah wraps an arm around my shoulder, and we turn on the TV and watch a mystery together as the fire crackles and pops.
“I’m sorry I accidentally took a hit out on you,” I say.
“No problem, Lot. I’ve been known to dodge a bullet or two.”
“I may have requested a poisoning. I wouldn’t leave your coffee unattended if I were you.”
“Good to know.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Speaking of which, I’ll talk to Brit soon and see what she knows.”
“Sounds good.”
But not if I get to her first.
Chapter 14
Fanatical Fitness is booming this, the morning after I accidentally put a hit out on Noah. I told Meg to keep an eye out for the mad Mad Hatter and to tell him to call it off. The last thing I want is to land Noah in the grave and me behind bars.
But I’ve put it out of my mind for now, or at least as much as I could. At the moment, I’m taking over an entire heaping platter of deep-fried butter pats, dusted with powdered sugar as a part of my scheme to pull all of the info I can out of Britney Fox.
Carlotta’s van is parked out in front of Fanatical Fitness, but it doesn’t look as if she has any takers at this early hour.
I head on into the gym, which is a backward mirror image of its next-door neighbor, Swift Cycle.
There’s a foyer once you enter with a registration table and the same bored looking teenager staring at her phone, a rack of workout clothes that claim to be half off, but according to the priced as marked items, they’re pretty much above and beyond what clothes like that should cost to begin with. To the right there is a cavernous room that is used for the aerobic workouts, and if I crane my neck just beyond that, there seems to be a few areas with equipment as well. The scent of cucumbers and melon permeates the air, and it all feels very much like a spa, only instead of pampering you, they torment your muscles until your entire body wants to cry uncle—or at least they did at Swift Cycle.
The workout room is packed with women, and I’m shocked to see just how many I recognize, starting with Meg, Lainey, Keelie, my mother, and Carlotta.
Britney and Reese hover around the front, flipping through a notebook and nodding incessantly. There’s a refreshment table along the back with a pitcher of ice water set on either side of it, and smack in the middle there’s a pumpkin dotting it as an homage to fall. None of the women in the room look as if they’ve broken a sweat just yet. For sure no one is sporting that melted candle appeal on their faces. You know, the one you get after a hearty workout with mascara and blush running down in nightmarish tracks and lips that look as if they’re slipping right off the face?
Yeah. I’m not so familiar with it either. The last time I broke a sweat, it was the other night when I was steeped in a donut eating competition with Noah and Everett. Noah won hands down, but only because he’s had years of practice at the force.
I head over and set my platter of goodies down onto the refreshment table as Keelie and my sisters trek over.
“What are these?” Keelie pops one into her mouth without waiting for an answer. “Oh my goodness!” She moans so hard and loud every woman in this place flocks on over.
“Why does this look like trouble?” Lainey pops one into her mouth as well, and her eyes roll