Page 31 of Twice Baked Risky Whiskey Cakes

I shake my head at Lottie because it’s just not worth correcting.

My mother tips her head. “Or maybe he came to his senses and is hoping Noah will jump back on the Lottie Express and take over for him, which, as evidenced by how quickly he got here, has already happened.”

“Newsflash, Mom”—I nod her way—“I never left.”

“Oh,please.” Carlotta waves a dismissive hand as she pipes up, and it’s only then I notice her face is colored in like a rainbow and her nails are glittering in a blinding manner as if she had dipped her fingernails in glitter. “You’re all being ridiculous. Has anyone considered that Sexy might just be at home taking a snooze?” She examines her nails, and they shine so bright they could probably stop traffic. “Did you ever think of that, Lolita?” She cocks her head at Lottie. “Maybe he wants some peace and quiet before the little yippers arrive, and he knows having a ditch day is the only way to get it?”

“A nap?” Lottie’s voice climbs half an octave. “Everett doesn’t nap or snooze. He doesn’t even sleep. I’m pretty sure he justpowers down for four hours and reboots. He has more energy than Lyla Nell does on any given day.”

Carlotta rolls her eyes. “Everyone naps, Lot Lot. Even the perpetually wound-up judgmental types.Especiallythem.”

“I’ll check the security cameras and see if his truck is in the driveway,” I say, doing just that.

Sure enough, Everett’s sleek black truck is parked in its usual spot, looking like it hasn’t moved all day.

“Oh no.” Lottie’s face goes pale. “Something really terrible must have happened if he never left the house. I bet he needs our help. What if he fell? What if he’s unconscious? What if?—”

“He’s not alive,” Lily finishes for her, and all eyes narrow on her. “What? I’m just saying. It’s happened before—especially when Lottie is concerned.” She shrugs at her boss. “You do have a certain effect on the mortality rate in this town.”

“Grab Lyla Nell,” Lottie calls out, already waddling toward the door with surprising speed for someone carrying two entire humans. “We’re headed home.”

I don’t argue, I simply just follow orders. I scoop up Lyla Nell from Miranda with a hurried explanation and help strap her into Lottie’s minivan. Carlotta jumps in the passenger seat while I jump into my own truck and we race across town all the way to Country Cottage Road.

I pull into the driveway, brake hard, and jump out of the truck before the engine stops rumbling. In less than three seconds I sprint to the front door, fishing out the key Lottie gave me years ago. My cop instincts kick in as I approach with caution, listening for disturbances, and checking for signs of forced entry. But all rational thought dissolves when I hear Lottie’s panicked breathing behind me.

I swing the door open and race inside, immediately losing traction on the stone floor. My boots slide as if I’m trying to stealhome at the World Series, and my arms do the windmill in a desperate attempt to stay upright.

“Everett?” I call out so loud my voice echoes across the walls and two balls of white fluff scatter in my presence.

“Noah?” Everett shouts back. “KEEP LEMON OUT OF THE HOUSE!”

EVERETT

“Geez,” Noah shouts as he glides his way into the kitchen and nearly passes me by as if he were floating on air. “Everett?”

“Right here,” I grunt, still flat on my back from the fall I took this morning.

“What the hell?” Noah barks. “What’s happening to the floors? I think you need to fire your housekeeper.”

“Believe me, I’m on it.” I blow out a breath. “Only in this case, the housekeeper is me. The real housekeeper had a family emergency, so I thought I’d pinch-hit. I’m an idiot who thought I could clean limestone without professional training.” I groan, not bothering to move. “I’ve been down here since this morning. My phone is under the fridge. Please tell me, you’re not letting Lemon set foot in this place.”

“Lottie, make sure you stay outside,” Noah calls out. “Everett tried to clean and turned this place into an ice rink.” He slogs his way over and winces at me. “So, what’s going on?”

“I thought I’d spend the day counting the speckles on the ceiling. You’re the big detective. What do you think is going on? I did a somersault and landed flat on my back, threw it out in theprocess. I can’t move two inches without a hot poker shooting up my spine.”

Noah’s eyebrows hike a notch. “You know Lottie thinks you’ve been kidnapped, right? She’s mobilized half the town.”

“Of course, she has,” I sigh. “I’d get up to deal with the fallout, but I’m pretty sure my L4 vertebra has lodged itself somewhere near my kidneys.”

“I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No, don’t do that. I just need you to help me up. As long as I can make it to the couch, I should be fine.”

I lift my hand his way, but before Noah can ice skate over, a gray-headed hurricane glides into the room howling and screaming, and all around having a good time.

“Carlotta,” Noah shouts. “Slow down, you can really hurt yourself in here. Case in point, the judge splayed out on the floor.”

But Carlotta is oblivious to his threats because she already has enough inertia going to launch her to the moon. Unlike Noah, she doesn’t attempt to slow down. She barrels forward with her arms flailing like mad.

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