Dial M for Mousse (An Emergency Dessert Squad Mystery) by Laura Bradford

Author:Laura Bradford [Bradford, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2018-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

If the way Greg’s Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat was any indication, Winnie had made a bad call on the dress. Yes, it was cute. Yes, she’d gawked at her reflection a time or two (or ten) when Renee had finished her makeup and hair. And yes, she’d hit Record on her phone so she’d never forget her first catcall as she was walking through the parking lot behind Beans. But until that exact moment, she hadn’t thought about the mixed signal she might be sending the handsome paramedic by wearing it.

Great . . .

“Keep it light, keep it friendly,” she murmured to herself as Greg’s hand shot up into the air and motioned her over to the four-top table he’d secured a few feet from the makeshift stage set up for that evening’s comedy show. At the table, she found her smile and a seat catty-corner from Greg’s. “Look at you, securing a table in front . . .”

“I, uh, got here early enough, I guess.” He pushed in the chair he’d obviously been sitting in before her arrival and moved to the one directly opposite hers. “You look amazing, Winnie. Wow.”

She gave what she prayed was a carefree smile and willed her voice to match. “Renee all but smacked my favorite jeans and cami from my hands when it was time to get ready. She said there are so few events in Silver Lake that I need to take advantage of them when they come.”

Propping her elbows on the table, she rested her chin in her hands and shrugged. “Frankly, I think she just missed her calling in life.”

“What calling would that be?” Greg asked.

“To roam the halls of a prison, smacking inmates’ hands with a nightstick.”

Greg’s eyebrow rose with amusement. “You think Renee should have been a prison warden?”

“That or a stiletto-wearing pit bull.” She straightened up and looked around the coffee shop at the smattering of familiar faces she saw across the top of the display case at Delectable Delights on occasion—folks who used to stop by for a coffee cake on the way to work, or to pick up cupcakes for their kids’ birthdays. “It might sound a little weird, and I’m not trying to get all deep on you, but sometimes, when I’m somewhere like this, I can’t believe how much my life has changed in the past four months or so.”

“You mean with the Dessert Squad?”

“That’s a big part, sure. I mean, if you back up five months, I was spending most of my waking hours just down the road from here—in a place that’s now a pool hall. I baked all morning, stocked my cases, and tried to figure out how I was going to be able to meet the increased rent on the shop. I was so sure my baking days were numbered.” She brought her focus back on Greg and was relieved to see a cessation of movement inside his throat. “Now, thanks to the generosity

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