27. Lottie

LOTTIE

C hristmas Eve is tomorrow—and so is the annual Honey Hollow Christmas party being held at the Evergreen Manor. The party is a longstanding tradition in Honey Hollow, however, it has been held at the community center on occasion.

Christmas.

I shake my head as the crowd in the bakery refuses to die down. It's pitch dark out, we're set to close in an hour, and yet everyone and their mother, brother, and uncle have stopped in to pick up a few sweet treats, pies, cakes, and cookies.

"A Marshmallow World" blares over the speakers and each of my employees—myself included—is bopping away to the beat as the ball of fluff on the tip of our Santa hat bounces to the beat.

The scent of my chocolate cake baking in the oven permeates the entire bakery. Ever since I've been frosting them with peppermint frosting, I can't keep those chocolaty goodies on the shelves.

I wipe down the last flour-dusted counter and marvel at the whirlwind that my day has been.

Christmas Eve is breathing down my neck, and yet my to-do list seems to be multiplying by the hour.

This morning I wrapped what feels like a million gifts with each bow more festive than the last. Not to mention the fact I spent an hour painstakingly ironing Lyla Nell's dresses for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day—of course, I made sure they'll match mine. I offered to get Evie in on the matchy-matchy fun. She quickly eschewed the idea and tossed a few loose threats my way because of it. She did offer to wear a matching ribbon in her hair, so I picked up some matching hairbows as well.

I've also managed to snag matching Christmas PJ's for everyone in the house, including Noah, his sweet golden retriever Toby, and Pancake, and Waffles.

And then there's that grocery list as long as Santa's beard, filled with last-minute essentials we'll need for Christmas morning. I gave that to Everett, but only because he asked if there was anything he could help with. The man has the patience of a saint, and he's going to need it once he gets in line for the register.

And among all that madness, I actually managed to squeeze in another session of Sam's labor classes before I came to the bakery.

Lainey was the coach this morning. It's always fun to see my sister in action. Confession: I had my eyes closed for most of the session since our partners were instructed to give us full body massages. And since Lainey used Sam as her example, Noah's hands had his way with my body—with my clothes on, of course.

It was all as chaste as can be, but oh my word, does that man know what to do with his fingers and when. I'll admit, it took the tension right off every last inch of me, and I may have fallen asleep in his arms for the last half hour of the class.

Who knew Sam's birthing class would be such a godsend for me? And let's be honest, for Noah, too.

That Christmas party at the Evergreen tomorrow night comes to mind once again.

How can I have a good time when I know full well there's a killer running around out there? A killer who supposedly knows his or her way around a pair of knitting needles.

Wait a minute… That older man with the gray hair comes to mind. The one I saw having a heated discussion with Glenda Dasher the night she died. Wait one peppermint cupcake minute. He was talking to Clara Dickens Greenmantle that night as well!

I bring my fingers to my lips.

I bet he knows a thing or two, unless he's the killer—then he sort of knows everything I'm looking to find out.

The door swings open, ushering in another crowd along with an all too familiar face—my biological father.

"Lottie Lemon," he sings as he sheds his easy smile and exudes his cheerful demeanor. And I quickly make my way around the counter and offer him a hearty embrace.

"Oh my goodness." He gives a jolly laugh as he places a hand on my belly. "How are my new grandkids doing?"

Mayor Nash's light hair is almost all gray now, and he has a smile that never leaves his face, and a mischievous glint in his eyes that well, never leaves his face either.

"They're just kicking with excitement," I say. "And I mean kicking. At one point today, I thought they were going to kick their way out."

"You're not due just yet, are you?" He looks slightly horrified at the thought of me delivering right here and now.

"Not until March." I crane my neck past him as an entire parade of people seems to walk on by the shop window. "Hey, what's going on out there?"

"I'm not quite sure." He ticks his head to the side as he glances that way as well. "I've never seen anything like it, but it's as if the entire town has decided to descend on Main Street this evening. The shops are bustling and the carolers are out in full force down by the official town Christmas tree. We've got sleigh rides and snowball fights and just about everything you can think of taking place out there tonight. It's as if Honey Hollow has somehow become the embodiment of Christmas spirit."

"Christmas spirit?" I cock a brow because a certain elf I know happened to mention his supernatural connection to just that.

"That's what it is." He lifts a finger. "While I've got you here, I've been meaning to ask if you know a man by the name of Thimblewick." He shakes his head. "Sort of an odd segue, but nonetheless it seemed to fit."

"Oh, it fits like a glove," I mutter. Or more like a Christmas mitten. "I may have heard Carlotta mention him a time or two. Why? What's going on?"

He frowns a moment. "That's Carlotta's flavor of the month. Her last-chance-man as Carlotta likes to put it."

"And that's because you're putting your foot down on this open relationship nonsense. I'm proud of you. And don't worry about Thimblewick. He'll be gone soon enough. I'll make sure of it myself."

I spot Noah walking by the window as he stops to wave my way.

"Go on and pick out whatever sweet treat you like," I tell Mayor Nash. "It's on me. And don't forget, you're invited to dinner at my house on Christmas night. My mother is doing the cooking."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he calls out as he makes his way to the refrigerated shelves.

I let Lily and Suze know that I'll be stepping out, grab my purse and coat, and beat Noah to the entry just as he waves a sprig of mistletoe over my head.

"You know what happens next," he says with a devilish dimpled grin.