Page 28 of Macaron Massacre
Everett comes over and glides his arms around my waist. “You ready for that shower?”
Noah glares his way before taking off with Ivy.
“I’m ready,” I say, watching as Gloria bellows out her innocence, the fact she’s being framed, and she may have shouted something about suing all of Ashford County. That’s the last thing that would surprise me.
Everett takes us to his mother’s estate, his boyhood home, which could ironically house an entire army of boys and girls. The Baxter residence looks as if the Waldorf Astoria and a Southern manor had a baby, something grand and monstrous in size.
We head on in, and Everett holds out his arms. “We’ve got the whole place to ourselves, Lemon.” His voice echoes unnaturally.
“That’s like saying we’ve got the entire state of Florida to ourselves.”
Everett ushers us up to the city, otherwise known as his old bedroom, and I follow him into the bathroom, to a shower that’s the size of my living room.
“Geez, you can fit the entire Fallbrook cheerleading team in here.”
“You got that right.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re speaking from experience?”
Everett strips off his T-shirt, and his lips curve with deviant intent.
I suck in a quick breath. “That was right after Cormack broke your heart. Of course, that’s when the harem processional began.”
He nods, his brows pinching in the middle as he helps remove my dusty, less than sanitary clothes. “It ends with you.”
My mouth falls open as he pulls me to him, skin on skin.
“It ends with me.” It comes out more of a question, but Everett collapses his mouth over mine in an effort to begin something new.
Maybe Gloria will be found guilty.
Maybe the case is over.
Maybe Nell will help me understand my tumultuous heart before she’s blipped off to the other side once again.
Maybe, just maybe, Everett and I are starting our forever.
But Noah’s face pops to mind and begs me to reconsider.
Chapter 11
Thursday evening, after facing an entire herd of homicide-hungry tourists who snapped up every macaron in Honey Hollow, Everett picked me up and landed us smack-dab in the middle of the Ashford Convention Center where a packed house sits waiting to listen to Michelle Ireland boss us around on how to live our best lives.
Everett is clad in black, and his tie is a metallic blue that sets off his eyes. I’m just about to compliment him on exactly that when a trio of familiar faces emerges from behind him.
A groan works its way up my throat. “It looks like we weren’t the only ones who managed to score last-minute tickets.”
Everett turns, and we watch as Noah, Britney, and Cormack make their way over.
“Well, look who it is”—I say, lifting my chin at the treasonous trio—“it’s Detective Fox and the Blonde Brigade.”
Everett’s chest bounces as he looks to his old stepbrother. “Looking to expand the harem? There is a sea of single ladies here tonight. Lemon isn’t one of them.”
Cormack nearly sucks in a lung as she yanks forth my left hand. “Why no, she isn’t! Would you look at this sparkler?” Her jaw unhinges as she looks to Everett. “Essex, this is your grandmother’s wedding ring!” She drops my hand like it’s a dead fish. “Why you little Lolita, you wily little thing. I had my eye on that very same piece when I first met the Baxters, and here it’s on your finger. I think I’m going to start calling you Lucky.” She gives a wink accompanied by a high-pitched rhythmic laugh that’s reminiscent of a dolphin braying.
Britney scowls at my ring finger as if it offended her. “A person like you shouldn’t be wearing a cube of ice that big.”
I inch back. “A person like me?”