Page 34 of Peach Cobbler Confessions
“Judge Baxter?” I dot his nose with my fingertip. “You look as if you’re just dying to break out into a big ol’ grin.”
“How can I not when I have a beautiful woman in my lap.”
My cheeks heat. “You’re making me blush.” I give the scruff on his face a quick scratch. “And I’m not just any woman. I’m your wife.” I hold out that sparkler Everett blessed my finger with last month.
“My wife,” he says it low, and if I’m not mistaken with a touch of sadness.
His hand glides over my bare stomach and he closes his eyes a moment.
“Lemon, I can’t believe we’re about to expand our family. You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
Okay, that’s it. This entire Carlotta pregnancy ruse has gone on long enough. I’m not sure it’s moral to wait until the weekend. In fact, I know it’s not.
My mouth opens to tell him the truth just as the boat begins to rock a little more than it should and the sound of footsteps quicken in this direction.
Carlotta appears with a wide-brimmed hat on her head, wearing a cover-up and holding a floatation device in the shape of a pink flamingo. And hot on her heels is Evie, wearing a metallic one-piece that I’m pretty sure just burned my corneas with its reflection, and holding up the rear are both Noah and his dog Toby.
“Oh good heavens,” I say as Toby charges over and stops shy of jumping into the hot tub with Everett and me.
Carlotta dips a foot in, splashing both Everett and me in the face in the process.
“Water’s great, kids,” she shouts. “Hop on in. I’m going to take up one of these loungers. I brought my e-reader along. Mirandy Lemonade gave me an early copy of her new book coming out this fall and, rumor has it, it’s so hot it makes the surface of the sun feel like an artic glacier.” She takes a moment to inspect Everett’s bare chest. “Woo-wee, speaking of hot stuff, I bet Mr. Sexy’s eight-pack is heating up the hot tub without any other effort.”
“Hey? What about me?” I tease. “I’ve got on my new red string bikini.”
Noah strips off his shirt and sinks down across from us in the water.
“Lottie Lemon”—he gives an approving grin my way—“you are hotter than a brushfire.”
“Thank you, I think.”
Evie tosses a tennis ball to Toby and he catches it in his mouth.
“I can’t believe you guys came down to the lake without me.” Evie takes a seat on the lip of the hot tub and her long legs dangle in the water. “You do realize I start school in less than three weeks. And don’t worry, Dad. You won’t have to take me back-to-school shopping for new clothes.”
“Oh, let me!” I’m quick to volunteer my shopping services. “We can hit the Scarlet Sage Boutique, and then we can head across the street to the Busy Bee Crafts Shop and stock up on all sorts of cute notebooks and pens. I’m obsessed with back-to-school supplies. And to be truthful, I still hit up a good sale on office supplies every September.”
“Don’t listen to her, Evie Stevie.” Carlotta is quick to counter everything I just said. “I’m the one you want to help you spend all your daddy’s money. Ask Lot Lot. I’ve been on her credit card for months. I’m a pro at it.”
“Who let you on my credit card?” I ask with genuine confusion, but Carlotta covers her face with that large straw hat.
Evie pulls her hair free from a ponytail and unleashes a dark river of luscious locks on either side of her shoulders.
“No thanks, Carlotta. I’m not shopping at that boutique. Dash and I ran in a couple of days ago and couldn’t get out fast enough.” Dash was Evie’s first friend in Honey Hollow, and now they’rebestfriends. And it warms my heart, too. “I’ve already done most of my shopping online,” Evie is quick to tell us. “This is my first year of getting to wear normal clothes to school. It was uniforms twenty-four seven back at Ellington.” She sticks her finger down her throat and pretends to gag at the mention of her former boarding school—and something about hearing her retch leaves me feeling slightly ill. “And I’ve charged it all to your account, Dad, just the way you asked me to.”
“Thank you, I think.” Everett’s brows knot up my way. “Are you okay, Lemon? You look a little green around the gills.” He pours me glass of sparkling cider, and I quickly down it.
“Thank you,” I say, blowing out a breath. “I think it’s just the heat.”
Carlotta spikes up in her seat. “Is the morning sickness back, Lot Lot? Quick, Mr. Sexy, put her head on your lap and massage her back. Foxy, you can tickle her feet.”
“Carlotta,” I groan. “I could drown.”
She ticks her head. “And that would get rid of the morning sickness.”
Noah plucks a glazed cruller out of the bakery box behind him and hands it to me.
“This might help.”