Easy On the Pies (Bittersweet Mysteries, #1) by Miller B. Allison

Easy On the Pies (Bittersweet Mysteries, #1) by Miller B. Allison

Author:Miller, B. Allison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barbara Allison Miller
Published: 2024-02-05T00:00:00+00:00


It was nearly six o’clock when Henny pulled onto Max’s private lane. The unpaved road was icy. Henny thanked her lucky stars that the local mechanic was able to put her snow tires on her car earlier.

“Henny,” Max Smithers’s voice was smooth as silk when he opened the cabin door to her. “If I knew you were coming, I’d have baked a cake.”

“No need,” Henny replied with a giggle. She held out a cake box. “I brought your favorite, chocolate. At least it was your favorite years ago.”

“And it still is,” Max confirmed, waving her inside.

Max looked casual in a blue checked flannel shirt, blue jeans, and bare feet. His hair was damp, and he smelled like citrus and sandalwood as though he’d just stepped out of the shower. It was dinner time, and Henny’s stomach clenched at a thought that crossed her mind. She wished she had called before she arrived. Max might have plans for the evening—a date?

“I hope I am not interrupting something.” Henny entered the cabin and heard jazz music playing in the background. She smelled something rich cooking on the stove. Henny felt the warmth and saw the romantic glow of a wood-burning fireplace crackling in the corner. The urge to hand off the cake box and leave filled her head. Everything she saw suggested that Max expected company. The last thing Henny wanted was to interrupt Max’s date.

“Not at all,” Max said. “Come in. You can see the progress the workers made. Don’t worry. Chester is at the vet.”

“I hope he’s okay,” Henny said. Henny handed the box to Max. He set the cake box on the kitchen table.

Max grimaced before saying, “he’s getting neutered—and staying over at the clinic tonight. I feel guilty doing it to my boy, but the vet said it’s for the best. It turns out it’s best to neuter Chester if I have no plans to breed him. Anyway. Come inside and take the three-second tour.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take up your time. You seem...busy.”

A quick glance around showed Henny that the cabin was small—an open sitting room that spilled into a small kitchen. There was a door that probably led to a bedroom and bath. The backside of the cabin sported a three-panel sliding glass door that opened to an outdoor living space with a view of the lake.

“Henny, I have time for an old friend. That’s what we agreed, right?” Max replied. “We’re friends.”

“Yes, but it smells like I interrupted dinner,” Henny replied. “You’re cooking.”

“My culinary skills are basic, but I have a few recipes in my repertoire. I’m making beef stew.”

“I’m impressed. And now you have a cake to serve your guest,” Henny nodded toward the table. She straightened the collar of her winter coat. “I should scoot.”

“Guest?” Max asked, sounding confused.

Henny felt her face grow warm. She felt like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. When she set out for Max’s place, she intended to ask about the investigation into Anne Barber’s death.


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