Blankets & Laughter (Happy Curves #3) Read Online Megan Wade

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Happy Curves Series by Megan Wade
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Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 18861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
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Expert:

Returning home is always bittersweet. But when Luella returns to Oakwood Falls, what starts off as a friendly prank very quickly turns into a break and enter with unexpectedly delightful consequences.
All Grayson was doing was sleeping in his own bed. But when an intruder looms over him while he’s sleeping, he’s quick to act. When he pins his assailant against his mattress, he realizes it’s no bad guy after all. It’s a gorgeous, curvy woman.
And she looks just as shocked to see him as he is her!

Full Book:

LUELLA

I pull up around the block from Vera's apartment and my heart beats so hard against my chest. Nerves? Maybe. I've never done this before. It was always Vera surprising me. Growing up, she was the daredevil, and I was the goody-two-shoes until eventually her ‘influence’—as my parents liked to call it—got the upper hand, and I started take a few risks of my own.

Not that I was never as brave as she, but my courage was definitely bolstered over our years of friendship. And I’ll be forever grateful to her for it.

A wave of nostalgia crashes into me as I take in the scenery around me. From the park I'm parked next to—the one Vera and I would use as a shortcut back to her parents' place from various sneak-out sessions. To Old Nan's Diner—home of the best damn fudge sundae I have ever had in my life. It’s all still the same as it was when I left this place.

Love it as I might, I didn’t get to stay in Oakwood Falls forever like I thought I would when I was small. Life had other plans for me since I could only find opportunities to grow my career elsewhere.

Mom had a massive fit when I announced that I got a job offer in Candy City. You know, the Omigod-I’m-so-proud-of-you-but-please-don't-leave-me fits moms have? On the day I left, Dad had to ban her from her phone after she called me four times in the space of thirty minutes. And in the two years I’ve been gone, there wasn’t a single day where she didn’t check in. Or a holiday where she didn’t make the effort to come to see me since I was too poor or too busy proving myself to travel. Until now…

Taking a deep breath, I look around my familiar hometown and swallow down my emotion. It’s been two very long years. I wish I’d made the effort to get back here sooner, but I genuinely thought there’d be more time. More time to explore, more time to return. More time to count on the things I left behind. But now, my parents are gone—killed in a freak accident by a drunk driver almost six months ago—and while Oakwood Falls still looks just like my home, without them…it feels different.

At least Vera is still here.

That’s the one personal familiarity I’m relying on, because even though I now own my childhood home, I can’t bring myself to go stay there. There are just…too many memories. Good ones and bad. And since I grew up in a strict but loving home, those memories are mostly good. A lot of the good ones involve Vera too.

Like the time we got ridiculously drunk at a tailgate party and got caught climbing through my bedroom window while trying to sneak back in. Vera and I couldn't stop giggling then shushing each other for giggling the whole way through. Mom was standing there in her fluffy pink dressing gown with her arms crossed and a stern look on her face when we fell through. Vera got so surprised that she jumped up and yelped, knocking over the Tiffany lamp with her drunken clumsiness, causing a massive crash and bits of glass flying everywhere.

I touch the scar on my palm, the tips of my fingers running back and forth over the smooth skin where I cut myself trying to pick up the broken pieces of glass. Mom took me downstairs and bandaged me up while telling me that she wasn’t happy with me for sneaking out, but that the hangover and sore hand in the morning were probably going to be the best teacher of these things. And she was right. I didn’t sneak out again after that night. Well, not for a few weeks, anyway.

God, I miss her…

Turning off the car engine, I get out and lift my nose to the air, the familiar smell of waffle cones from across the street take me right back to better times—ice cream after church on Sundays, playing with friends in the town square. A soft smile spreads across my lips as my heart swells with fond memories. There's no place like home indeed.

"Luella Miller?” A voice calls to me from across the street. “My goodness. Is that you?”

It takes less than a second for me to find the source. Old Nan, standing outside the ice cream parlor on her ‘smoke’ break that never involved cigarettes, only fresh air. I asked her about it once, and she said that she didn’t think it was fair smokers got extra breaks, so she liked to take a few herself.


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