Ivy shakes her head. “I don’t know. Just be on alert. Moretti’s men have been spotted from Leeds to Starry Falls, and there’s been an odd uptick of their presence in Honey Hollow these past three weeks as well. I’ll keep you posted.” She nods to the three of us before taking off.
“Don’t worry, Foxy.” Carlotta bumps her hip to mine. “The Canellis and the Lazzaris aren’t about to let some kids from Jersey steal their lunch. They’ll pick ’em off one by one and they won’t come around here no more.”
Everett shoots a look to the side, deep in thought, as if her words bothered him.
Crap.
“Carlotta”—I dig my keys out of my pocket and dangle them in front of her—“get in my truck before they change their mind and lock you up in the back. Don’t leave without me. I need to take care of something. I’ll be less than a minute.”
“Sounds good to me.” She looks over at Everett. “Don’t worry, Sexy. The Morettis aren’t the only ones who won’t be coming around here no more.” She snatches up my keys and bolts for the exit. “We’re getting a bucket of chicken on the way home to celebrate!” she shouts and I nod.
“Chicken sounds good,” I say to Everett. “That is something you’ve never been.” I examine him a moment, that dark head of hair, angry eyes, but he’s not really angry, it’s a front he needs to hold up for God knows what reason. “You’re not a chicken, Everett. You don’t run away from things, you fix them. I think it’s a mighty big coincidence the Morettis have been in Vermont these last three weeks. I’ve been monitoring them myself. Three weeks ago Lottie gave birth to Lyla Nell. And you do love Lottie and Lyla Nell, don’t you?” I nod over at him and his lips tug to one side, but his anger only seems to sharpen. He doesn’t like that I’m onto him. “Thought so.” I glance toward the exit. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You’re not playing with matchsticks, you’re playing with dynamite.”
“Sometimes dynamite is the only way to go. Stay out of it.”
My mouth opens then closes. “Wait a minute… What did Carlotta mean when she said the Morettis weren’t the only ones who won’t be coming around here anymore?”
His eyes widen a notch and he takes a breath. I’ve thrown him, twice in less than five minutes. What in the hell is he up to?
“What does Carlotta ever mean? Stay out of that, too.”
“I’m not staying out of anything. If you haven’t figured that out, you don’t know me at all.”
We head out to the parking lot, and I pick up on the fact that Everett is very much morose.
“So you hired the Morettis.” I shrug his way. “Next time just come to me, would you?”
“So you could tack a target on my back? Noah, you mean well, but you wouldn’t have had a clue as to what to do.”
“You’re right. But I wouldn’t have gone nuclear, that’s for damn sure.” I shake my head at him. “Don’t keep me in the dark next time.”
We part ways, and on the drive home I try to get Carlotta to tell me who it is that’s not going to be coming around Vermont anymore, but she clams up ten times tighter than Everett just did.
Something is up. And I have a feeling the mob has nothing to do with it this time.
Carlotta and Everett are holding something back.
And I have never been more curious in my life.
Lottie
It’s April and it’s officially springtime in Honey Hollow. The sun is out, the air is warm, and both the flowers and the evergreens are releasing their fragrant scents to perfume every last inch of our cozy town.
Easter is right around the corner, and everywhere you look there’s a chocolate bunny for sale, Easter baskets with their neon plastic grass, egg decorating kits from simple to the elaborate, and cutouts of cute little bunnies.
Now that I have Lyla Nell, the holiday seems ten times as festive as it did before. I can’t wait to decorate eggs with her, bake cookies, and dress up for Sunday service in our frilliest dresses. From here on out, every holiday, every day will be that much more special because of her.
Currently, I’m standing right in the middle of the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery giving Lyla Nell the official tour. I’ve brought her in before, but each time she was sound asleep, unaware of her surroundings, much less how much this place means to me. The walls are yellow, the furniture is mix and match pastel, and the entire shop is permeated with the scent of fresh baked, vanilla rich chocolate chip cookies.
I had Lily and Suze decorate the counters with bunnies, Easter grass, and string lights in the shape of colorful plastic eggs. This time of year I always have cookie baskets available for purchase, and no matter how many we set out, we always seem to sell out by the end of the day. Of course, I’ve included my current bestseller, chocolate chip cookies, but you’ll find iced sugar cookies in the shape of bunnies, elaborated decorated eggs and carrots, along with raspberry thumbprints, a few peanut butter cookies, macarons, lemon coolers, and snickerdoodles, too.
“See that passageway into the next room?” I say, holding her close to me in the fuzzy carrier I have her strapped to my chest. Her chest is warming mine as she looks in the direction I’m pointing. “That leads right to the Honey Pot Diner. My grandma Nell used to own it. She owned a lot of things and left the lion’s share to me in her will. I think she felt bad because she was forced to hide the fact we were family for so long. But I don’t hold it against her. She had made a promise to Carlotta that she wouldn’t rat out my true identity and was keeping her word. Anyway, do you see that large oak tree in the middle of the dining room over there? It’s fake if you can believe it. I know, it looks real, especially the way the branches shoot across the ceiling and come right this way over the ceiling of the bakery, too. My favorite part? I love the twinkle lights they’re wrapped in,” I say, pointing up and Lyla Nell’s gaze follows my finger. “We painted this place the color of butter, my favorite food group if you must know, but I’m open to suggestions if you have other ideas. We’re a team now, you and me. I just hope you grow up loving to bake as much as I do. I can’t wait to teach you everything I know. And if you’re extra good, I might just give you my secret recipes, too. Heck, I’ll give you those anyway.”
A laugh strums from me as I take in her dark hair and sweet large eyes, her lips glossed with drool as she blinks up at me, and don’t get me started on those cheeks. They’re filling in nicely, and I’ve been munching on them every chance I get. I can’t help it. I can’t stop kissing her nose, her toes, and her cute little belly. I’m obsessed with kissing my little girl about as much as I am dressing her up. In fact, I just put her in a frilly pink and white dress with cupcakes printed all over it and finished off the look with a giant pink bow. She has just enough hair to keep the clip from slipping out, so I fashioned a tiny ponytail that shoots straight up from the top of her head like a palm tree.
“Lottie Lemon”—Keelie calls from the register—“bring that baby here. You’re hogging all my Lyla Nell time. Lyla and I have a special bond because we share the same middle name.”