Miss Trailerhood by Carina Taylor (the top 100 crime novels of all time .txt) 📗

going to call Dad tomorrow. You know he has connections. He’ll find the best lawyer. We’ll wrap this up, and you’ll have permanent custody of Wren.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’m scared. It’s not guaranteed that we’ll win.”

“Maybe they’ll drop it. Frank didn’t seem as into it as Tia. But no matter what they do, you’re not alone anymore. I’m here to help you fight this. I’m going to see what I can dig up on Frank. I already texted a buddy of mine who’s looking into it.”

“A buddy of yours? What, like a hitman?”

He chuckled, his chest reverberating beneath my cheek. “Hey now, I did some aerial photography for a private investigator once. It was actually a lot of fun. Anyway, I texted the guy just now, and I’m hiring him to look into Frank. If there’s anything to find, he’ll find it.”

“That sounds marvelous.”

Nate reached a hand down and grasped my chin, tilting my head back so he could kiss me. “You need to get some sleep and stop worrying about this. It’s going to be settled so fast you’ll forget they ever said anything.”

I tried to smile, tried to catch the confidence he was sending out.

“Riley, I love you. I think I’ve loved you since Nola first brought you home after school.”

I remembered that day. The day Nola had decided we would be best friends. She’d asked Sharon and Rob if I could go over to her house. When I first walked into the house, I assumed she had an older brother because Nate was taller. He had been funny, and I liked him. Then, he started making fun of my current celebrity crush, and I called him annoying.

It had always bothered me when he had girlfriends. Now I knew why. “I love you, Louis Nathaniel Mercier.”

He kissed my lips. “You’re the only one allowed to call me that.”

“Thanks, Louis.”

He pinched my side and growled. “Enough of that.”

Chapter Twenty-ThreeRiley

"Can you open the door for me?" I asked as I climbed the porch stairs, my arms full of pillows. If he was going to stay in this trailer, then I was going to make it look livable.

We’d heard nothing from Frank or Tia in two weeks. Whatever had sparked that terrible brainstorm must have left their minds.

In the meantime, I’d been working on rebranding and niching down on my influencer platform, Wren had started a makeup vlog, and Nate had spent half the time away for work and the other half hanging out with Wren and me.

Nola, Bane, Nate, and I went on a double date. They’d regaled us with their story of meeting each other. We’d promised to go visit them in their new house soon.

Nate smiled and opened the door for me, letting me step inside first. He was such a gentleman. Wren and Macy would have fun having girls’ night in the trailer, and I could enjoy Nate.

All to myself. Knowing that he was my boyfriend. It still felt weird to say that.

Little skinny Nate had somehow turned into boyfriend material.

"Welcome to my wonderful mansion! Would you care to adjourn to the west wing?" he spoke in a British accent.

"Why does everything sound classier when you’re British?"

"Don't bother trying to explain a well-known fact." He scowled mockingly at me. "Might I interest you in a beanbag sofa seat? How about some lovely tap water that sometimes has extra bits of rust in it?" I chuckled as I set the pillows down on the love seat I’d bought at a thrift store and refurbished for him. "Oh, that sounds lovely. Can't find that at a high-end restaurant."

"No, there are some things not even money can buy."

"How's that new mattress working out for you?" I asked as I walked down the hall to take a look. I opened the door to the room but could only open it halfway.

"Well, it's a tight fit," he said with a laugh.

"How in the world did you get this thing in here?" I asked as I peered around the door.

"It wasn't easy," he admitted. "Hired a delivery and set-up man. He almost quit. But luckily, I made him go in the room first so he couldn't get out until he had it set up."

"Kind of sounds like a hostage situation."

"I paid for a service; I expected him to follow through. Want to test it out?"

I stared at the mattress. "No, thanks. You'd probably complain that I'd messed up the memory foam."

"I would if you would even leave a dent in it. Here's your water bottle." He passed me a cold bottle. "Something else to drink instead of water?"

"No, this is fine. What are we having for dinner?" I cracked the lid and opened the water bottle.

"It's a surprise," he stage-whispered. "We'll find out when the takeout man gets here."

Taking a sip of the ice-cold water, I grinned. "So, you're saying it's pizza."

He chuckled. "Only thing that they delivered to this trailer park. Which is unfortunate. But you know me—I never turn down a good, greasy pizza."

I followed him back into the living room and sat down on the beanbag couch next to him. I had to admit it was still comfier than the loveseat I’d bought.

Nate draped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side. The couch started to canoe with our weight centered in the middle of it, causing me to roll into him—not that I minded it.

We chatted as we waited for our fancy pizza dinner, reminiscing about the things we'd done as kids, swapping funny stories about Nola. It was hard to imagine that there had ever been a moment when I wasn't attracted to him. It was hard to imagine thinking of him in any other way than I was right now. But I guess that's the difference between youth and adulthood. Your entire perception of things changed.

"Where is your next job at?" Would this be the part where he told me he would be working far away?

“I’m filming in southern