Pecan Pie Predicament (Murder in the Mix #27) - Addison Moore Page 0,77
enough to put myself into a tryptophan-induced coma, but for some reason, I put away twice as much this year as I have in the past. I may have taken that whole eating for two thing a little too far. But let’s face it, the turkey was perfectly juicy, the mashed potatoes were so creamy and buttery, and that gravy? I may as well have stuck a straw in it. I had an entire gravy boat to myself. The cranberry cornbread stuffing was something I just might dream about for the rest of my life. And Becca made yams with marshmallows and a green bean casserole with extra bacon bits. I didn’t even know that was a thing, but from here on out, I’m going to have bacon on my holiday menu. There were candied carrots, a honey baked ham, and perfectly sweet and tart cranberry sauce, too—the kind right out of a can.
The dinner rolls were all made by yours truly. I brought the dough to the B&B this afternoon, and we baked them fresh on sight. I also brought three pumpkin cheesecakes, pumpkin pies, and my now infamous pecan pies, along with several cookie platters. And to serve along with all the desserts, I provided the pumpkin spice coffee as well.
Mayor Nash and Carlotta moan to one another while holding their stomachs. The rest of the guests seated at the table in my mother’s grand dining room start in on lively conversations as dinner wraps up.
Holiday music plays softly in the background, but as of this moment, the room is very much decorated for fall from the silk fall leaves trimming the mantle to the bevy of pumpkins, and three-foot long cornucopia dotting the table. Mom served dinner on her finest bone china, and her amber glass goblets and her newly acquired gold plated silverware. It was a dinner fit for kings, on a table set for kings, with the kings of our people—as far as I’m concerned—enjoying the feast.
“Well, Miranda”—Mayor Nash pats his stomach much like I am now—“you outdid yourself. And Lottie, those pies were amazing.”
“Thank you,” I say before glancing to Noah on my right. “How are you feeling?” I whisper as the rest of the table begins to rise and mingle around the room.
Noah looks handsome in his dark corduroys and brown cable-knit sweater. And that dark scruff on his face has filled out nicely.
He gives his belly a pat. “Better now that I’ve put away a meal.”
“First one in almost a week,” I say. “You went a little heroic with that fourth helping.”
Everett’s chest pumps with a silent laugh. “He was trying to impress you.”
Everett looks immaculate in his dark jacket and his pressed white dress shirt that brings out the I’m-ready-to-move-from-Noah’s look in his eyes. His facial scruff is so thick and soft, I reach over and give his cheek a little scratch just to feel it. The cast on his left arm comes off in just a couple of weeks, and he’s already counting down the days. He let Evie and me sign it and draw hearts all over it, but only because he keeps it hidden under his robe at the courthouse.
Evie snorts from across the table. “Yeah, Mom. Uncle Noah is trying to be extra nice to you because he knows what you’re capable of now.”
Carlotta nods. “That’s right, Lot. You’ve had Foxy here walking around on eggshells all week. I’ve seen it myself.”
Lainey leans in. “You guys are all still living together, right? That’s got to be fun.” She shudders as if it was anything but.
Noah shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”
Everett grunts, “Well, I do. We can’t move in across the street soon enough. I’d hire movers to get us in faster, but we’re still waiting on a majority of the furniture to arrive.”
I nod. “But shopping for all new furniture was so much fun.”
“Yup.” Carlotta lifts her glass my way. “Especially since Mr. Sexy was footing the bill. I can’t wait to get my new massage chair and my electric lift mattress.”
“Adjustable bedframe,” I correct. And good gravy did it set Everett back a mint. But that man took it all in stride.
Noah sighs. “I offered to pay.”
A dull laugh pumps from me. “You’ve done more than enough. You let us live with you rent-free for an entire month. And you gave up your bedroom.”
He growls as he looks to Everett. “Don’t remind me. In fact, I’m in the market for a new mattress myself.”