Page 35 of Wedding Cake Carnage
A man in a tan uniform catches my eye as he greets the customers entering the bakery.
“We won’t have to,” I say, nodding toward the deputy. “It looks as if Noah took care of that for me, too.”
The phone in the office rings, and I step over and pick up the receiver.
“Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery, Lottie speaking. Can I help you?”
“Yes, you can help me,” a female voice whispers. “Die.”
* * *
Right after Iclosed up the shop, Noah swung by and we ran into Mangias for a quick bite before heading to Leeds for our ballroom dance lessons.
“I just feel terrible Everett is home, and I can’t even enjoy him.” My mouth falls open at the thought of those words actually escaping my lips. I’m sure Noah does not care to hear about how I’d like to enjoy his former stepbrother. “I mean, you know. His ankle is still pretty sore so he couldn’t come out to the bakery today, and I was so swamped I didn’t have a chance to check up on him in person. We’ve texted all day. He says you need a bigger TV, and he’s pretty sure Toby will be going home with him when this is said and done—along with Pancake and Waffles.”
Noah stifles a laugh as we pull into the parking lot of the Underwood Ballroom. I look out the windshield and gasp. There’s a tall neon sign ready to greet us of a woman in a rather tightfitting ball gown. Her upper half consists of two round circles, twice as big as her head, and each one spins in a kaleidoscope of colors.
“What in the world? Why did I think this would be the classiest joint in Leeds?”
“Lottie, there is no classy joint in Leeds. You need to be trashy if you’re going to survive in this town. This isn’t your average dance studio. Yes, Tracy Underwood teaches classes, but she also has a ticketed viewing section. It turns out, there’s a ballroom fetish and she’s more than happy to fill their needs.”
“Wow. You learn something new every day.”
We head on into the oversized, over bright facility where a soft symphony of music is already playing. The peanut gallery consists of a couple of rows of folding chairs sparsely populated with men in trench coats.
A trench coat in July? I’m doing the fetish math, and I’m not loving it.
Lainey waves us over to where she’s standing with Forest, Meg, and Hook.
“You came!” Lainey pulls me into a quick embrace. A tall woman with adorable comma-like dimples and dark hair that spikes out of her bun giving her a pineapple appeal walks by and Lainey yanks her over. “Tracy, this is my sister, Lottie. She just saved her boyfriend from a psychotic killer. You can bet your tap shoes she’ll be bringing Jana’s killer to justice soon, too. My sister is a crime-fighting superhero worthy of a cape. Isn’t that right, Lottie?”
“Hardly.” Note to self: Threaten everyone I know within an inch of their life to keep my sleuthing skills on the down-low.
“A pleasure to meet you.” She extends a hand my way and I shake it. “Jana was a very special girl.” Her left eye comes shy of winking and the facial quirk strikes me as odd. “She was everything to everyone. I can’t imagine who would ever want to hurt her.”
“Regardless,” I say. “She didn’t deserve what happened to her.” She extends a hand to Noah. “And you must be the boyfriend. You are very lucky. Don’t let this one go. A girl who would step in the face of danger for her man isthe one.”
“I agree.” Noah gives a circular nod. “Lottie is definitely the one for me.”
“And me,” a deep voice says from behind and I glance back to find a devastatingly handsome man, clean-shaven, dressed in a freshly pressed suit with Cormack Featherby staunchly by his side. “That’s exactly why I’m here.” Everett holds out an arm and I thread mine through it. “Don’t worry, Noah. I wouldn’t dare let your dance moves go to waste. I’ve got a partner for you, too.”
Cormack scuttles his way. “I don’t know about you, but a good waltz always puts me in the mood to become the next Mrs. Noah Fox.”
I choose to ignore her and steal a kiss from Everett instead. “You are a naughty, naughty boy. You’re supposed to be resting.”
His dark brows pinch. “And let Noah’s hands have their way with your hips. Not on your life.” A dark laugh rumbles in his chest. “I’ve missed you, Lemon. A herd of wild lunatics couldn’t keep me away.”
The music starts up and Tracy shouts at the crowd to follow her lead, and thankfully I don’t have to listen to Cormack’s delusions for another second longer.
“Well, in that case, Judge Baxter, let’s do this,” I say as he takes up my hand and wraps his other arm around my waist. “You are a sight for my sore and tired eyes. And speaking of which, just about every woman in this place has her attention trained on you. So much for dance lessons.”
His brows bounce, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that inspires my stomach to bisect with heat.
“I’ve got my eye on the prize, Lemon, and that prize happens to be floating in my arms. What does a guy have to do around here to get you alone? There are parts of you I haven’t had the pleasure to properly convey how much I’ve missed them.” A scowl takes over his features. “Noah hasn’t been trying to frost your cookies while I’ve been away, has he?”
A dangerous laugh brews in me. “Why, Judge Baxter, do I sense a smidge of jealousy in your voice?”
His chest bucks with a silent laugh. “Never. I don’t let Noah Fox make me jealous, and I sure as heck don’t let him tell me what to do. My place tonight, Lemon. My mouth has plans for your body, and I’ve got a few booboos you can kiss, too.”