Page 26 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes (MURDER IN THE MIX #53)

EVERETT

M angias Italian food.

Wicked Wok Chinese takeout.

A toddler who’s decided her new life goal is to launch lo mein across the living room.

And Carlotta with chopsticks. All here in my living room with far too much noise happening at once.

Some might say this is bordering on a nightmare. But that wouldn’t be me. I wouldn’t want it any other way than it is right now—sans the searing pain in my back.

Noah sits across from me, digging into a pile of garlic knots while feeding every other one to his golden retriever, Toby.

Evie sits next to Noah, happily plucking dumplings off his plate while he pretends not to notice. Lyla Nell is covered in marinara, cheerfully feeding Waffles a noodle. And Carlotta? She’s holding her chopsticks as if she’s about to stab a man. It would not surprise me.

“Dad, you need to elevate your legs more,” Evie fusses, shoving another pillow under my knees.

She’s been home from college for exactly twenty-four hours and has already rearranged the entire living room into what she calls an optimal healing environment.

It looks more like a triage center if you ask me.

“I hurt my back, not my leg,” I point out, but it’s useless. The pillows keep coming.

“Come on, Dad, you know the body is all connected,” she informs me with the confidence of someone who took a single anatomy class. “The position of your legs affects your spinal alignment.”

I don’t argue. It’s easier that way. Not to mention that actually made sense.

Lemon waddles in from the kitchen with a precarious stack of takeout containers teetering on her belly, looking just one wobble away from disaster.

“Okay, who ordered the beef with broccoli?” she calls out. “And where’s my sweet and sour chicken?”

“I’ve got something sweet and sour right here,” Carlotta announces, holding up a bottle of whiskey that definitely wasn’t part of our delivery order.

Noah pops up behind Lottie, relieving her of the containers before they empty their contents at her feet.

Of course, he does. He’s been playing hero all evening, opening containers, pouring drinks, and generally being annoyingly helpful while I’m trapped under what feels like every pillow in the house.

“Lemon, take a seat,” I suggest. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything after we trekked around at the fairgrounds.”

“I’m pregnant, not incapacitated.” She pins a brief smile on her face and it lets me know I’m walking on thin ice, which is tantamount to what I had transformed the floors in this house to.

Thankfully, Evie was able to reverse the curse, as she put it. And reverse it she did.

Lemon will be back in our bed tonight. And regardless of whether or not I’m there with her, I’m just thankful Noah won’t be anywhere near her in a horizontal position.

“Besides”—Lemon adds, patting her belly with pride—“I just proved I have the strongest stomach in this entire family. The twins and I can handle anything thrown our way.”

“Says the woman who couldn’t get off the toilet for twenty minutes after we got home,” Carlotta shoots back.

“Oversharing, Carlotta,” Lemon mutters.

Lyla Nell bops my way with her pigtails bouncing in turn. With each passing day, she looks more like Noah and she wears his face better than he can ever hope to.

“Daddy have boo-boo ,” she announces as she grabs an afghan and proceeds to tuck me in.

“Thank you, baby,” I say, bending over to drop a kiss on the top of her head. “I feel much better now.”

“Daddy’s face needs pillow, too!” She proceeds to cover my face with a throw pillow, which I’m fairly certain is attempted murder. Must be the Noah in her trying to smother me.

“All right,” Lemon says as she plucks the pillow off my face. “Let’s finish dinner.”

Within minutes another round of Chinese and Italian food abounds. The scent of garlic, ginger, and tomato sauce creates a bizarre but not unpleasant fusion, and it’s one we’ve never turned down before.

“Why did we order from two different restaurants again?” Carlotta asks no one in particular. “Because we’re a bunch of hungry geniuses, that’s why.” She belts out a laugh and we all hold up either a container of Chinese food or a pizza slice to toast the fact.

Lemon nods. “Not only that, but you can’t expect a pregnant woman to choose between pasta and lo mein. I think one of the twins prefers Mangias and the other prefers the Wicked Wok.”

“I keep telling you, one belongs to Foxy,” Carlotta says without missing a beat. “Why do you think the universe sent this handsome little fox to help out with the case?”

“She’s got a point,” Evie says and I shoot her a look that says Et tu?

Noah nods. “And I think the universe is making a point, too, Lot.” He winks my way. “And just throwing this out there, but the name Noah works for a boy or a girl.”

“Then you better find someone else to procreate with, buddy,” I tell him.

“Speaking of names,” Evie says, pulling out her phone.

“I’ve been working on a spreadsheet filled with names you could use for the twins.

I’ve got boy twin names, girl twin names, and names that will work together if you get one of each.

I have it all organized by origin, meaning, and compatibility with Lemon-Baxter. ”

“You made a spreadsheet?” Lemon looks genuinely touched.

“Of course, she did,” I say proudly. “That’s my girl.”

“I made one, too,” Noah offers, as if anyone asked him. “But mine is more of a list.”

“Of course, you did.” I frown his way.

“I’ve been playing the baby name game, too,” Carlotta shouts, waving her chopsticks dangerously close to her eyes. “What about Gin and Tonic? That’s a pair of classics that never go out of style.”

“We’re not naming our children after liquor,” Lemon flatlines.

“Fine,” Carlotta huffs. “We’ll stick to Jack and Daniel, then. It works for both boys or girls.”

“It still falls under the liquor category,” Evie points out.

“Semantics,” Carlotta dismisses. “You say liquor, I say liquid inspiration.”

Lyla Nell does her best to crawl into Lemon’s lap. “Babies names, Elsa and Anna!” She giggles up a storm and claps her hands.

“ Aww ,” Lemon coos. “Those are beautiful names.” I’m just not sure.

Lyla Nell’s little mouth falls open. “Mickey and Minnie?” She tries again.

“Better yet, Bonnie and Clyde?” Carlotta adds while slapping her thigh.

“Or Romeo and Juliet?” Noah suggests with a straight face.

“Tragedies need not apply,” I tell him.

“Fair point.” He shrugs. “Maybe you’ll find some good family names. You could honor someone important to the both of you.”

Before either Lemon or I can respond, Lyla Nell begins to chase Pancake and Waffles, and somehow manages to grab them both by the tails. Toby makes a run for it and hides out behind one of the dining room chairs. He knows she’s coming for him, too.

“All right, missy,” Lemon says. “It’s bathtime.”

“I’ll give her a bath,” Evie volunteers. “Mom, you should have your feet up, too.”

“Yup,” Noah agrees. “You and Everett are a couple of bookends, Lot.”

“Very funny,” she says, tossing a throw pillow at him. “I’ll help, Evie.”

They manage to herd Lyla Nell upstairs, and Carlotta stands to her feet with a groan.

“Come on, Sebby,” she says, hitching her head at thin air, although both Noah and I realize that there is most certainly something there.

Apparently, in this case it’s a fox. “Let’s raid the fridge for cheesecake, then we’ll head down to Red Satin and you can watch all the foxy ladies.

Harry and I are meeting there for nachos. ”

I wait until she’s out of earshot before flicking a pillow at Noah and he catches it midair.

“No, neither of the twins is mine,” he says, flinging it back my way. “But I’ve still got joint custody of your wife’s common sense—and her heart.”

“And the common sense would somehow be related to you?” I ask, amused. “You do realize that I can still muster the strength to injure you.”

“All right, Toby, time to head across the street.” Noah laughs as he rises from his seat and Toby shows up front and center, and so do Pancake and Waffles. Lyla Nell has been a bit rough with them as of late. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn they, too, would like a little respite across the street.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what you and my mother were discussing,” I say a little rougher than intended. “I couldn’t get so much as a hello out of her.”

And yet Noah seemed to extract a whole conversation. I was watching long enough to observe the fact. She looked worried, almost pleading with him about something.

Noah’s eyes widen a notch before his lips clamp shut. He shakes his head my way.

“I’m sorry, buddy. But that conversation was strictly confidential.”

He wastes no time showing himself to the door, and I’m left with more questions than answers.

Carlotta darts out the door right after him and I decide to make the painful trek upstairs.

Lemon and I put Lyla Nell to bed and kiss Evie goodnight as well. “Come here, Judge Baxter,” Lemon says as she coaxes me into bed. “I think we need to examine some evidence that proves not all your parts are out of commission.” Her smile is equal parts sweet and wicked.

“Not even a broken back could stop me from delivering a verdict on that motion,” I tell her, wincing as I slide between the sheets. “Some cases deserve personal attention from the bench.”

And I am more than happy to oblige.