Miss
Trailerhood
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. Copyright law.
Editing: Jenn Lockwood
Also by Carina Taylor
A Love Like This
Neighbors Like That
Christmas Like This
Friends Like These
Vacations Like This (Coming Soon)
Fake It
Love on Willow Loop
Miss Trailerhood
World's Worst Boyfriend (Coming Soon)
Only in Colter
The Perfect Plan
Standalone
Mr. H.O.A.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Also By Carina Taylor
Dedication:
SYNOPSIS:
Chapter One | Riley
Chapter Two | Nate
Chapter Three | Riley
Chapter Four | Nate
Chapter Five | Riley
Chapter Six | Nate
Chapter Seven | Nate
Chapter Eight | Riley
Chapter Nine | Nate
Chapter Ten | Nate
Chapter Eleven | Riley
Chapter Twelve | Nate
Chapter Thirteen | Riley
Chapter Fourteen | Nate
Chapter Fifteen | Nate
Chapter Sixteen | Riley
Chapter Seventeen | Nate
Chapter Eighteen | Riley
Chapter Nineteen | Nate
Chapter Twenty | Riley
Chapter Twenty-One | Riley
Chapter Twenty-Two | Riley
Chapter Twenty-Three | Riley
Chapter Twenty-Four | Nate
Chapter Twenty-Five | Riley
Epilogue | Nate
Acknowledgements:
Further Reading: Neighbors Like That
Also By Carina Taylor
Dedication:
Emily, you know this one’s for you. Thanks for being the forever kind of friend.
(And for talking me out of that alpaca farm.)
SYNOPSIS:
She disappeared from our lives without a word. I never expected to run into her at a Quik Mart in between jobs. What’s a guy to do when he finds his first crush? Follow her home, of course, and remind her of all the things she’s missing.
I didn’t know that holding onto Riley would involve living in a trailer park. Or keeping it a secret from my sister—her best friend.
Riley is completely at home with lawn-mower racing, beer-guzzling exhibitionists. She doesn’t think I can handle it.
Well, I’m going to show Miss Trailerhood that I’m here to stay—no matter what trailer-park mayhem she puts me through.
Love is patient, love is kind, love means buying a single wide.
Chapter OneRiley
Should I go nude?
Or maybe a little more tan?
Deciding which way you looked best would be difficult for anyone, but it was especially difficult when your hair was wrapped in a towel. It automatically lowered your self-confidence—and made you wonder if you shared the genetics of a troll.
Having eye cream slathered so thick I could see it under my eyes didn’t help either. Oh well. I guess I’d go nude. It made a statement.
With a heavy sigh, I snatched the nail polish off the shelf and dropped it into my basket.
It would scare most people to go to the grocery store looking like I did. But that was the beauty of living in Oregon. When you went to the store, you saw people in all states of dress—or undress. Some people wore their pajamas. About eighty percent of the population appeared in yoga pants. And every once in a while, you could spot a person wearing hardly anything. But the only time I went nude was when I painted my nails that color.
I tossed some cotton balls into my basket before I stopped by the baby section to grab wipes. They made the best makeup removers.
I had to hurry because I only had two hours before I went live and only three hours before my sister got home from her friend’s. It was the first week of summer break, and I was already frantically trying to think of fun summer activities for Wren and me.
Luckily, tonight was cookie night.
I turned down the baking aisle of the convenience store.
Convenience was right. It was practically right next door to my house. And this convenience store had the decency to stock regular food items. Tonight was chocolate-chip-cookie night, and if Wren came home to find that we were out of chocolate chips, I would be in big trouble.
I paused in front of a mirror that was part of the sunglasses display. The avocado smeared beneath my makeup-less eyes usually helped remove the puffiness, but I wasn’t sure it would work today. It needed to. I had to take photos tonight.
Setting the basket on the front counter, the woman standing there helped me empty it. After laying the chocolate chips and nude nail polish on the counter, I pulled my card out of my phone case and swiped it.
“Big night planned?” Marni, the woman who managed the convenience store, asked.
“We’re making cookies tonight if you want to stop by.”
Marni tugged at the large hoops in her ears. “Well, Dean and I have tickets to the mud show tonight, but thanks for the offer.”
I nodded and tucked my card back into my phone case. Marni and I lived only a street apart.
The first time I’d met her, she told me that her boyfriend, Dean, was going to propose any day now. That was two years ago, and he was still coming up with excuses. “You taking pictures tonight?” she asked.
“Yes, Wren is hanging out with friends today, so I figured I’d get some evening shots with Tony.”
“He’s getting better. That YouTube video he watched really helped.”
“I agree.” Tony was another neighbor who was dabbling in photography. He was decent enough and wanted to add to his portfolio, so he helped me in trade for chocolate chip cookies and girlfriend advice.
Although his pictures weren’t bad, I doubted he’d ever make it as a true professional. He’d do fine snapping pictures of T-ball practice and backyard weddings, but he wouldn’t be featured in any magazines—not in this lifetime.
Marni passed me the paper sack. “You want me to get you a ticket to mudding next week? Dean’s got a friend that works for the owner’s son.”
Sounded like she had those tickets locked in tight. “Thanks, Marni. If it’s no trouble, I know Wren would love that.”
Unfortunately, Wren was now at the age where she liked boys. I couldn’t convince her they still had germs and she needed her cootie shot every time she accidentally touched one.
Right now, she had a crush on Mason Higgins—someone in the making of a
