Pecan Pie Predicament (Murder in the Mix #27) - Addison Moore Page 0,7
one that rocked her rump for the crowd along with Hannah a few minutes ago. And I’ve seen her busting her booty at the booth all morning, too.
Hannah pulls her in. “Judge Baxter, I’d love for you to meet my business partner, Maizy Burton.”
Why do I suddenly feel like the invisible woman?
“Hi, Maizy.” I give a little wave her way despite the lack of a proper introduction. “I’m Judge Baxter’s wife, Lottie Lemon.” Not that it seems to matter much to Hannah. “I run the bakery across the street.”
Maizy gives a hard moan. “I’ve been dying to sink my teeth into one of your sweet treats. Every time someone walks by with one of your delicious desserts, I have to stop and drool. And pecan pie happens to be my favorite. You can bet I’ll be picking up a slice as soon as things die down.” She looks to her partner in bootylicious crime. “And don’t worry, Hannah. I’ll get one for you, too.” She laughs. “Hannah is a notorious mooch.” She shoots Hannah a sharp look that says so much more than her words ever could.
“Don’t I know it.” Autumn raises the smoothie in her hand as if toasting her friend, and we all share a little laugh, only Hannah doesn’t seem to find a thing funny about it. Her eyes remain pinned over Autumn’s with an intensity two friends don’t typically share, at least not while they’re getting along.
Autumn takes a breath. “Well, there’s food to be eaten. I’d better get going.” She looks my way. “I’ll be in touch.” She takes off, and the tension seems to ease a bit.
Maizy gives Hannah a sharp look. “You couldn’t be nice to her for three solid seconds? Do you know what exposure like that could do for a business like ours?”
Everett and I take a step away, and I steal a sip of his pink smoothie.
“My stars up in heaven, it tastes like paradise in a cup!” I wrinkle my nose at the sexy god before me. “I mean, it’d be better if it had a pickle in it.”
His chest rumbles with a silent laugh as he pulls me in. “I’ll make sure you get a pickle soon enough.”
“Oh hon, don’t shortchange yourself. You’ve got a cucumber on your hands. One of those vulgar ones that’s far too big for their britches.”
His lips expand a notch with the underpinnings of a dangerous, albeit short-lived, smile.
“Where are we staying tonight?” he asks.
“We could sleep at the B&B?”
“We could, but there won’t be much sleeping.”
My mouth falls open with delight at the perverted proposition just as a whirlwind of women bustle past us. Two women to be exact, and I happen to recognize the taller of the two, the blonde with a wisp of hair covering her left eye.
It’s Britney Fox, Noah’s ex-wife. She’s vacuumed a pair of black yoga pants to her lower half and paired it with a hot pink shirt that reads Swift Cycle Gyms, where spinning is winning. Britney and I have grown to be friends over the past year I’ve known her, but suffice it to say, when she barreled into town demanding her husband back, things got off to a rocky start for the two of us, and things got even rockier for Noah and me.
The brunette next to her is about my height, five-five, and has her own requisite ponytail that coils into a perfect curl. She has a few pink streaks in her hair, and it looks so cute I wouldn’t be surprised if every girl in Honey Hollow was walking around with them tomorrow. Her full lips are puckered up in a pout, and if I didn’t know better, she looks ready to rip someone’s head off. She, too, has seemingly painted on a pair of yoga pants, but her hot pink T-shirt has an entirely different clever saying. It reads Fanatical Fitness, if it’s easy—you’re not doing it right!
Fanatical Fitness is a gym that just opened up next door to Swift Cycle last August. But I haven’t seen any fitness fanatics trampling down their doors, hoping to make life hard on themselves. I get that whole no pain, no gain thing, but I’m not sure I’d want to highlight the “pain” as a part of my business model if I were her.
“Hannah,” Britney snaps. “It’s bad enough you’ve hijacked our paying customers and hoodwinked them into joining your front lawn lunacy. But now you’re going after our nutritional business, too?”