Page 40 of Poison Apple Crisp

“Nobody calls him a lucky fox,” I say.

“They will now.”

Everett and I head toward Noah, and the women on the lawn all flock around Everett as if a naked rock star just showed up in their midst. Honestly? He’s pretty darn close, but better.

“What’s happening?” one of them shouts, and by the pitch of her voice it sounds as if she might just pass out.

The brunette with short shorts bops over.

“Can I help you?” She looks from Noah to Everett while running her tongue over her upper lip.

Funny how she doesn’t seem to seeme.

Noah puts his badge away. “Detective Noah Fox.”

The crowd swoons once again.

“Detective?” Short Shorts suddenly looks interested. “And who areyou?” She folds her arms across her chest as she nods to Everett.

“Judge Everett Baxter.”

A series of screams break out, accompanied by some rather lewd pants.

Again, it’s to be expected.

Carlotta snickers. “And there goes Sexy.”

I stride my way over to the nosy brunette. “What exactly is going on here?”

Short Shorts blinks her baby blues my way. “Are you here for the class?”

“No,” I say as if the thought offended me. “I live next door. What’s all this noise about? Is this some sort of diabolical aerobics class?”

“It’s the Booty-ful Butt Lift. Shake your booty session one.” She lifts a shoulder flirtatiously toward Noah and Everett. “I’m Too Hot to Handle Hannah, and it would be my pleasure to be your personal instructor.”

Noah lifts his hands as if it were a stickup. “That won’t be necessary. I just wanted to let you know about the noise ordinance. It’s hushed voices until nine.”

A husky giggle bounces through her, and, in turn, it makes other parts of her bounce.

“And if we’re not quiet? What are you going to do? Arrest me?” She bats her impossibly long lashes at Everett. “Are you going to sentence me to hard time in your private chambers?”

“Hey, watch it, sister.” That’s my line. I put my arm out protectively over both Noah and Everett. “I’m the only one who gets to get flirty with these two. Keep your hot hands and your hot booty to yourself, got it?”

A round ofoohscirculates through the yoga-loving peanut gallery as if a fight were about to break out. Come to think of it, I did nearly have a good old-fashioned hair puller last night. I’m thinking I could go two-for-two.

Hot Hannah sweeps her gaze over me. “And who are you?”

“Lottie Lemon. I own the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery downtown.” I glance out at the crowd. “And if any of you want to load up on carbs after this, just head down to the bakery and ask for the Hot Hannah Special,” I shout. “Buy one dozen donuts get six free!” I’m feeling especially vindictive, and strangely enough, it seems to be sharpening my business acumen.

She gives a quick blink. “Well, I’m Hannah Beckham, your new neighbor. I just leased this property for a year, and I was assured by the owner I could conduct my sunrise stretch classes here.”

Carlotta elbows her way next to me. “I thought you said this was the Booty-ful Butt Lift class? I was looking forward to getting myself some buns of steel.”

Traitor.

Hot Hannah nods. “You’re welcome to join in on the fun. We’ll meet right here every day at six a.m. for as long as the weather permits.”

Carlotta leans in. “But what will we do when Mother Nature turns on us?”