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

in with her on-again, off-again boyfriend Seven, a beefy bouncer once hired by Noah and Everett to protect me, and the two of them each has an armful of pink boxes from my bakery.

“We brought dessert!” Lily chimes, and the room lights up with another round of cheers.

Naomi, Keelie’s twin, walks in right after, brandishing a brown bottle in her hand. “And I brought the whiskey!”

Carlotta chuckles. “You always were my favorite niece. Let me take that from you.”

Before I can greet them, there’s another knock at the door and Noah heads over and opens it.

This time it’s not such a friendly face—not that Naomi has ever been all that friendly to me, but still nothing compares to this torment.

It’s not one but two terrible socialites, Cormack and Cressida.

“Ladies?” Noah looks bewildered by their presence. He glances to Everett. “Did you order up a double helping of chaos?”

Everett takes a measured breath. “Not unless I was having a brain malfunction.”

“Oh hush, you.” Cressida stomps her way inside with a thick silver leather coat and matching thigh-high boots. “I need to see for myself the humble abode my daughter will be living in.”

Evie retches—on purpose, I’m assuming. “Are you, like, stalking me, Cressi-duh?” She looks my way. “There’s one name I won’t approve of for my new baby sister.”

Cressida pretty much dropped Evie off at boarding school and left her to rot. Last September, we celebrated Evie’s sweet sixteen, and it was the very first birthday party she’s ever had. I have a feeling this will be her first Christmas celebration with family, too.

“Baby sister?” Cressida looks amused. “I’ll send over some infant couture and Louis Vuitton bags. I can’t have Everly’s sister in rags and cheap bags.”

Everett opens his mouth to protest, and I lift a hand.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I mutter his way.

I can’t help it. I’ve been having a serious hankering for a few baby gifts, and if Cressida wants to toss a few clothes and purses my way, I’ll be the last to protest.

Cormack bucks with a laugh as she strips off her coat, showing off a red lacy dress that looks more negligée than it does street-worthy.

“It seems Cressie and I have interrupted a party. We won’t stay long.” She winks at Noah. “We could head straight to your place afterwards, Big Boss. I hear a vacancy just opened up in your bedroom.”

“Fat chance,” Carlotta says. “Foxy’s probably already sniffed the sheets to see if there’s a trace of Lot Lot left in there. He’s not dragging another woman into his bed.”

Cormack snarls my way. “Nevertheless, Cressie and I are here on official business. As new members of the Christmas Angels, we’re dropping off that tacky painting you won.”

Carlotta’s head jerks up a notch. “My stud muffin on a stick is here?” She trots to the door and squawks, “It is! Quick, I need some strong men to help carry this inside.”

Before I can protest or pass out from the artistry, that enormous oil painting is hung above the fireplace where it suspiciously had a nail at just the right height waiting for it.

Every living soul, and one tiny deceased soul, gathers to look up at the dark painting of a man dressed in riding gear, and his dark eyes seem to be set on each one of us individually. In the bottom right-hand corner, the initials E.L.M. are painted in thin white letters. The gold gilt frame, the moody oil painting itself stands out like a supernatural sore thumb in my newly minted home.

Mom sighs. “I don’t care what anyone says. He’s perfectly dreamy. If you ever want to toss it out, I’ll proudly display it at the B&B. In fact, I think it’s inspired me to write a horse or two into my next steamy book.” She gives Wiley a playful nudge. “I think there’s some fun research to be had in that. I’ve already got the riding crop.”

Carlotta shakes her head aggressively. “No way, no how. This bad boy is mine all mine.” She staggers forward. “Speak to me, kind sir. Haunt me in my dreams! I want to see you roaming these halls at midnight with that shock of dark hair, those piercing eyes that hold the promise of a punishment or two, that—”

“And on that note”—Lainey takes Josie back from my mother—“I think we’d better get this one to bed. Take care, Lottie. Stop by the house or the library!” she calls out as she and Forest take off.

“Wait!” Carlotta calls after them. “I didn’t set my kinky candles up yet! I’ve got new inventory!”

Soon, Meg and Hook follow them out the door, as do Wily and my mother—citing something about getting right down to research brass tacks. I’m betting there’s a riding crop involved. Lily, Seven, and Naomi, along with Cormack and Cressida, stick around long enough for Carlotta to sell about sixteen candles. And honestly? At twenty-four ninety-nine, I can’t wrap my head around the purchase.

“Here you go, Foxy.” She hands a gray candle his way. “It’s called Heartbreak Hotel, and it can keep you company tonight.”

“Carlotta,” I give her the evil eye for going there.

“All right, fine.” She tosses her hands up. “Sit down and I’ll give you a deep tissue massage to go along with it. You too, Sexy. If my Lot Lot can take the two of you on, then so can I.”

Noah takes a seat on the couch, as does Everett, so I decide to make my way to Cormack and Cressida before they infiltrate Evie’s gray matter with their socialite speak.

Evie shrugs my way. “Cressi-duh hates everything.”

Cormack chortles. “Including me.” She grimaces. “I mean, I hate everything, too. Not that Cressida would ever hate me.” She sucks in a quick breath as she looks to her blonde counterpart. “You don’t hate me, do you?”

Cressida pinches her fingers together. “Just a smidge to keep things exciting.”

“Well, I’m about to get really excited,” I say just as I’m about to give them the old