The evening wraps up quickly.
Evie takes off with Dash and their respective boyfriends.
Carlotta says something about getting Mayor Nash into one of those hot pink T-shirts, and my sisters take off with my mother.
But as for Noah, Everett, and me—we head to Mangias and plow through two large pepperoni pizzas. Okay, so I may have polished one off all on my own, but Everett was nice enough to take a bite out of it so that I could say we shared it. And afterwards, the three of us head to the movies to watch a shoot ’em up action flick.
What can I say? I let the men pick. Let’s call a spade a spade. I was just there for the popcorn, nachos, and soft pretzels—and maybe the gummy bears, Sour Patch Kids, and about three different bags of chocolate in different configurations that made their way to that never-ending pit I call a stomach.
The entire audience is sitting at the edge of their seats. You can practically feel the adrenaline coursing through the floor as we zip from one pulse-pounding scene to the next.
Try as I might to focus on the cult classic in the making, I can’t seem to put thoughts of the one person who just so happens to be without a pulse out of my mind.
Verity’s case—those bizarre messages Evie has received and the thought of questioning Juliet Jackowski runs through my mind on a loop.
It all has me feeling so unsettled, frazzled, and just about jumping out of my skin.
Here’s hoping Everett can think of a thing or two to calm me down once we get home.
I have a feeling he’ll know just what to do.
Lottie
Everett and I finally get home to find the house dark.
“Evie must still be out with her friends,” I say as we come upon the porch and Everett swings the door open.
His eyes glint my way with the perennial mischief buried in each one.
“And there is no hint of Carlotta either. What a shame.” He flexes a dry smile.
“The whole house to ourselves?” I give a contrived gasp. “Whatever shall we do?”
Everett’s lids hood and his lips flicker with the glint of a wicked smile. “I can think of a few spicy things to heat up the night.”
“Oh, really?” I laugh. “I can’t believe you’re throwing Noah’s words at me,” I tease.
“He’s been known to have a few good ideas,” he teases right back as we dance our way into the house and Everett flicks on the lights.
“With the lights on?” I graze my teeth over my lower lip as he seals the door shut behind us.
“It’s better with the lights on, cupcake.” He pulls off his jacket in one smooth move and lets it drop to the ground behind him.
Pancake and Waffles, my sweet cats, let out a lazy mewl from the sofa.
I hitch my head their way. “I think they just said it would be rude of me not to play along.” My fingers work my own coat off and I toss it to the side.
Everett’s eyes never leave mine as he works the buttons of his dress shirt. That smile he’s too stubborn to give keeps threatening to curve his lips.
“Oh, Everett.” I kick off my shoes and pull the tent of a dress I have on off my body in one herculean move as he offers an approving nod my way.
“That’s my girl.” His eyes move slowly down my body, and it’s only then I realize I’m wearing my parachute panties.
So not sexy.
Darn it.
His shirt falls off and his expression is stern as he bears hard into my eyes. Everett plucks at his belt buckle, teasing me with the effort, and I let out a hard groan. He works his belt off achingly slow and a breath expires from me as he pulls it off, and it feels as if ten years have transpired in that practical, yet decidedly hot, action.
I lose those parachute panties and spring out of my bra, and before I know it, Everett closes the distance between us as we dance our way to the bedroom with teeth grazing up against one another, mouths hot with kisses. Everett flicks on the lights as we move deeper into the room.
A flash of light goes off.
A series of screams echo throughout the room, and Everett and I startle, only to find Evie, Dash, and those boys they have no business being in a bedroom with, right here in my bedroom!
Evie screams at the top of her lungs and I follow suit.
Conner—blond, built like a brick house, varsity football player—gags as he gets an eye full of me in my birthday suit glory.
“Aaah man!” Kyle—dark hair, tall and lanky, on the basketball team—throws his arm up over his eyes as if to shield himself from the sight of me.
“Hey!” I snip as I struggle to pluck a pillow off the bed and hug it in an effort to hide my nakedness.
“Oh God!” Evie yelps while staring at her phone. “I took a stupid picture, and it posted!” she shrieks while doing an odd little dance.
“Delete it!” Dash screams with just as much vigor.
“Lemon,” Everett barks. “Get the gun. I’m suddenly itching to do a little target practice,” he says as he lunges for those boys we’ve essentially caged into a corner.
By gun he means Ethel, the Glock he and Noah teamed up to buy me a while back so I could protect myself if need be. But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t meant to fend off teenage offenders taking up space with my daughter in my own bedroom of all places.
Both Conner and Kyle toss their hands into the air and let out a howl.
“Please don’t shoot, Judge Baxter.” Conner hops backward as if he were already trying to avoid a bullet.
“He’s gonna do it,” Kyle yelps to his buddy. “They’re already throwing the book at him. He has nothing to lose!”
Evie screams at the phone in a panic. “It’s parent porn!”
“Parent porn!” Dash parrots, and both girls sound as if they’re weeping at the top of their lungs.
“What’s this?” I stalk on over and pluck the phone from Evie long enough to see my face tossed back with a look of ecstasy on it and Everett’s lips coming for mine as he’s about to land a kiss over my mouth. You can see far too much of my décolleté and we both look naked even though technically I’m the only one who committed to that whole aforementioned birthday suit predicament. “GAH! Delete this!” I scream.
“We can’t!” Evie shouts with a look of rife anger on her face as she snatches the phone right back. “You both just ruined my life, thank you very much!”
“What do you mean you can’t delete it?” I try to snatch the phone once again and she holds it up high before both she and Dash scuttle over to my dresser.
“About a thousand different people have already taken a screenshot. Everything I do is closely monitored. Don’t you know how the world works?” Evie whines. “We have to do some serious damage control.”
“Yeah,” Dash snips at me. “She’s got, like, five million followers.”
Everett lets a few expletives fly.
“Don’t start with me, Dad,” Evie riots. “I need hashtags. Come on, Dash. Don’t just sit there!”
“Hot judge, hot baker?” Dash gives a frenetic nod as she says the words.
“Hot judge, hot baker?” I ask as I turn to Everett, but before he can say a word the sound of water sloshing from the bathroom garners our attention and out comes a couple of dripping wet, birthday suit wearing, champagne bottle wielding—sanity stealing thieves for lack of a better phrase.