Murder in the Mix Boxed Set 28-30: Cozy Mystery by Addison Moore (books like beach read .TXT) 📕

Detective Noah Corbin Fox steps up next to him and all but averts his eyes.

“Lottie”—Noah’s dimples go off without warning—“if I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.” He relaxes in an all-out grin just as my trusty right-hand gal at the bakery, Lily Swanson, clucks her tongue at the spectacle.

“Wow, who knew cheesy Christmas music brought out the cheesy in grown men?” Lily lifts a brow my way. “If you’re not careful, Lottie, one of them is bound to knock you up. Oh wait, that’s already happened.” She swats me playfully with the dishtowel in her hand before getting back to the business of serving up my eggnog trifle at the dessert table.

Each of the trifles sits in a glass footed bowl that I’ve lined with happy looking gingerbread men in keeping with the holiday theme. And because of those fresh baked gingerbread men, the entire ballroom holds the scent of ginger and cinnamon.

Lily Swanson is a dark-haired beauty who works for me at my shop, the Cutie Pie Bakery and Cakery. She was more or less one of my high school bullies, but now that I sign her paychecks, we get along great. Go figure.

My bakery had been asked to cater the desserts for the Jingle Hop Ball, and we’ve brought every holiday sweet treat known to Santa out tonight. But the one thing that seems to be moving ten times quicker than the rest of my yummy desserts is the aforementioned eggnog trifle.

“I’m just glad you both finally arrived,” I say, pulling both Noah and Everett into an awkward three-way hug. My bourgeoning belly doesn’t do much to aid in the effort either.

Essex Everett Baxter is indeed a judge at the Ashford County Courthouse. That’s where we initially met. He was the judge presiding over a ridiculous complaint brought against me by my former landlord, but he sided in my favor and, suffice it to say, he’s had my favor ever since. We married last December while I was still dating Noah. It sounds horrible, I know. But Everett needed someone to marry in order to fulfill the requirement to get his full inheritance. It was pretty much a business transaction, but I’m glad I stepped up to the matrimonial plate. And now we’re essentially dating. It’s complicated.

In fact, Noah, Everett, and I are far more complicated than I could ever put into words.

Let’s just say I dated Noah first, and things ended badly after I found out he forgot to tell me about the wife he had. They were legally separated and headed for a divorce, but it rocked me to the core regardless. Then I dated Everett and I discovered I loved him deeply. And sadly, I discovered that I loved both Noah and Everett. Again, horrible, I know. Then Everett suggested I see where things went with Noah before we committed, and then Noah did the same.

And then, of course, there’s one more not-so-tiny detail regarding the three of us. I’m having a baby, and I’m not entirely sure which one of them is the father. You see, I was ending my relationship with Noah and starting one up with Everett, and I guess you could say the timing of my goodbye and my hello was far too close for my maternity math to ever be accurate.

Everett leans in and lands a kiss right over my lips.

“You look amazing, Lemon.” Everett has almost only ever called me by my surname, and I don’t mind it one bit.

“This old thing?” I pluck at the crimson velvet gown my mother lent me. The festive frock has more or less an A line design, so I could be harboring a beach ball under here and there would still be plenty of room. But as it stands as of yet, I’m not harboring a beach ball. My tummy is just about the size of a mixing bowl. “Thank you.” I give the scruff on Everett’s cheek a quick scratch. “And you both look handsome,” I muse as I inspect their matching suits and bright red ties. Albeit, Everett has his left arm in a cast.

Last October both his house and mine burned to the ground. We were next-door neighbors on Country Cottage Road, and there was a rogue electrical wire that zapped both of our rooftops—and, of course, there was that whole Hearst curse thing infiltrating my life at the moment but, honestly, I try not to think about that.

Anyway, Noah lives across the street, and we’ve been staying with him ever since. But all that is about to change. Everett and I are renting the house directly across from Noah’s. Our neighbor, Hot Hannah of Beckham Butt Lift fame, was horrifically murdered last month—not in the house, of course, thus leaving the vacancy.

We got the key to the place over a week ago, but the landlord has allowed us to paint and change some of the flooring so we’re not quite in yet.

Noah growls over at Everett, “He saw what I was wearing, and I swear he went back in and changed his tie. But good news—” His affect brightens with the tease. Noah Fox has black hair with red highlights, dimples you could lose yourself in, and deep green eyes that give those pine trees that line our cozy little town a run for their verdant money. “The paint is dry, the house has been airing out all day, and I think tomorrow we’ll be able to move all that furniture you ordered online out of the garage and into the living quarters.”

“That’s great news,” I beam as I give his arm a squeeze.

Two familiar females pop up in our midst. One happens to be my birth mother, and the other happens to be my daughter.

“What’s great news, Lot?” Carlotta asks as she glitters in a dress that looks as if it’s made of silver tinsel. Carlotta is my biological mother. She left me