Wicked Whoopie Pies by Addison Moore (english novels to improve english TXT) 📕

of my very own. I wonder what Noah got? The golden boy probably had to eat a candy bar.

Luke leans forward a notch. “I got a little intel from my men. Not only do you have Jimmy’s boys hot on your tail, you’ve got Manny Moretti’s kid looking to blow up your house. Your house. What the heck did you do to make the kid so angry?” He shakes his head. “You’re lucky you came to me. My men have the Canellis and the Morettis on lock. You’ve got no problems now that I’m watching your back. Not a one. And all I ask is that you help me do a little laundry in exchange. It costs you nothing but a little time.”

It costs me everything.

My mind races as I try to filter out a single alternative but come up with nothing.

Blow up my house.

Lyla Nell, Evie—Lemon.

I rise and pluck the briefcase off the table.

“Have a good day, Luke,” I say as I take off with a boatload of dirty money.

“You made the right choice,” he shouts. “You won’t regret this.”

He’s wrong. Dead wrong. I already regret this.

I toss it in my SUV and drive back to Honey Hollow filled with regret.

I don’t bother taking the briefcase out as I head back into the house. It has no place in my life.

I’m starting to wonder if I have a place in my life anymore.

On the bright side, the house is still in one piece.

Lottie

It’s prom night.

It’s also the evening of the church business meeting. I sigh just thinking about both. But my first order of business is seeing Evie off for one of the most exciting milestones of her life. And because of that, I wasn’t able to help set up at the church, but Lily and Suze are already there delivering and arranging the dessert table.

There is so much dissidence, so much boiling anger within our little congregation, I hope my sweet treats can give them a little reprieve from it all if anything else. Pastor Dave stopped by the bakery this morning and requested that we bring along my whoopie pies as well. He said he didn’t want me to think the dessert was banned from the meeting because of what happened to Terri while she was eating them. In fact, he mentioned he’d say a blessing over my treats tonight. I’m sure that will make everyone feel better about eating them. Me included.

Noah and Everett are both planted on their own sofas as we wait for Evie to debut her dress for us. The game is on, but neither of them is paying too much attention to the television set. I can’t help but think they both look a little morose.

I bet it’s really hitting them how fast everything is moving with Evie. I thought about it myself today.

Sure, she’s only been in our lives for a short while, but despite that it seems life has accelerated at warp speed. In just a few short months she’ll enter into her senior year and start applying to colleges for the following year. I don’t want our time with Evie to go by so quickly, and yet there’s not a thing I can do to stop it. And that’s exactly why I’m doing my best to savor every moment with both her and my little peanut.

Binky is curled up in Everett’s lap contentedly licking her fur. And Noah is holding Lyla Nell on his lap while she laughs and squawks at Pancake and Waffles. I’ve combed Lyla Nell’s dark tresses into a short little pony that sits on top of her head like a palm tree and tied it off with a light pink bow. She’s wearing the pink pajamas my mother bought her with tiny purple kittens printed all over them, and she looks as delicious as one of my strawberry whoopie pies.

Lyla Nell says something in her baby babble then points to her right and both cats climb over her and Noah and head that way. Then she does it all again pointing to her left and both cats meander in that direction. She’s been doing it for the last twenty minutes and I don’t think my cats have had this much exercise in years.

Carlotta steps over to me. “What do you think of this voodoo magic Little Yippy is performing on Fuzzy Thing One and Fuzzy Thing Two?”

“It’s not voodoo magic, Carlotta. The cats have just fallen in love with Lyla Nell.”

“Nope,” she’s quick to contest. “Those furry beasts are being hoodwinked because she’s enchanted them. Face it, Lot. Little Yippy is a drooling witch and she’s come to destroy us all.”

Lyla Nell looks our way, squealing and laughing at the top of her lungs.

“See that, Lot? She’s agreeing with me!”

“She’s laughing at you,” I retort, but the smile dissipates from my face as I study Lyla Nell’s actions anew.

Binky lifts her head lazily, and I have no idea if Everett even realizes that she’s been in his lap.

“She can see me, Lottie,” Binky points out. “And I’m sure you don’t want to hear this, but Pancake and Waffles, well, they’re a bit weak-willed.”

I suck in a quick breath. “Binky”—I say, orienting Noah and Everett that the adorable stinky specter is among us—“Lyla Nell isn’t a beguiler. And Pancake and Waffles are not weak-willed. They’re simply enthralled with her cuteness. They can’t deny her a thing.”

“I can,” Carlotta grouses. “It’ll be a cold day in double H hockey sticks before I succumb to her every last wish.”

I don’t bother pointing out the spelling error in Carlotta’s charged euphemism.

Lyla Nell does her best to sit up in Noah’s arms as she points to Carlotta and shouts something that sounds rather commanding. Everett, Noah, and I laugh at the sight, but Carlotta moves robotically over to the coffee table, picks up Lyla Nell’s baby doll, and lands it in her lap.

A horrible moaning sound comes from Carlotta as she staggers toward the fireplace.

“It’s happening, Lot. I