Landin’ in Trouble (Creekville Kisses Too #2) Read Online Brittany Larsen

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Creekville Kisses Too Series by Brittany Larsen
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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One woman is about to ruin everything.
They call me Landon-In-Trouble for a reason. I think it has something to do with my dimples and
ability to charm my way out of anything. And if causing a little trouble grabs the attention of a beautiful woman, even better.
The spotlight and I are old friends and perfect partners.
That is, until Brynn Foster dances her way into my life and my heart. She’s stunning and
everything I never knew I wanted—grounded, down-to-earth, good with kids. She has this ability
to see right through my usual crap to the dark secrets beneath. But that’s just the problem–although my charm may have won her over once, it won’t be enough to keep her. She already gave up a career in the spotlight. There’s no way she’s going to compete with my need to still be in it, whether I have dimples or not.
So it’s time for an impossible choice: the life I always craved or the woman who’s unexpectedly
stolen my heart.

FULL BOOK START HERE:

1

LANDON

I’ve got a reputation for landing in trouble that stretches all the way from Maryland to Virginia—and the nickname to prove it. My parents must have felt pretty smug about naming me Landon when they came up with my nickname. I was five and had taken Grandad’s riding mower for a test drive, right into the side of his barn. They’ve called me Landin’-in-Trouble Greene ever since.

You name it, I’ve probably done it. Nothing illegal or really bad. . .

Okay, I take that back.

Occasionally illegal, but never criminal. Not like my sister, Dizzy, but that’s a different story.

The point is, my crimes fall somewhere between mooning the school superintendent when I was in high school and dating three girls at one time in college. But I’ve always been able to charm my way out of anything.

Until Brynn Foster.

I landed in nonstop trouble the moment I first laid eyes on her. I thought I wanted her to notice me. What I couldn’t have predicted is that, once I had her attention, I’d want it forever. Or that, for the first time, I wouldn’t be able to get what I wanted.

Everything has gone downhill since I let Brynn go. Downhill and down south. Literally. I’ve skidded all the way from my tastefully decorated bachelor pad in the “young, single, and professional” Adams Morgan neighborhood in DC, to my eighty-four-year-old Gran’s entirely floral home in the not-so-happening outskirts of Creekville, Virginia. Population zero, if we’re counting women between the ages of twenty-one to thirty.

I got to Gran’s house late last night. She’s my last resort, so I should remember where I am when I wake up, but I don’t. I’ve become that cliché.

For half a second, I worry it’s another one of the all-too-frequent nights I’ve had since getting fired from Maiser & Thornton, LLP. Step one: drink too much. Step two: wake up somewhere unfamiliar. Step three: flash my dimples and get out of whatever trouble I’ve stirred up.

Once I’m fully conscious, I’m relieved to be at Gran’s house, even though I’d rather be at my own, now-sublet condo.

“It’s only temporary,” I say to the ceiling, then roll out of bed. When my feet hit the floor, I say the same thing I’ve been saying to myself every morning for the past decade and a half: “It’s going to be a great day!”

I got the idea from a “self-esteem for teens” book Mom gave me before I started middle school. The phrase is so automatic now that it pops into my head no matter what. Even when I’m staring at the same dresser that I used to put my clothes in as a kid when I’d spend summers at Gran’s.

My brain is having a hard time believing my mouth.

I have no job, no prospects. No hope.

At least not yet. But Gran’s convinced me all I need is a little R&R at her place to get back on my feet. I hope she’s right. At least it’s not Mom and Dad’s basement in Baltimore where I’d be more likely to run into friends I grew up with. Friends who haven’t been fired from their jobs after a series of major screw-ups.

Of course, the odds of running into Brynn in Creekville are high. Like Yankees beating the Nationals high. But that’s not why I’m at Gran’s. Sure, I was the happiest I’ve ever been when Brynn and I were together, and my life’s been going down the toilet for the last year since we broke up. But that’s coincidence, not causal.

So what if I’ve gone from being featured on the cover of DC’s local magazine as “one of DC’s brightest, and hottest, attorneys” to a guy who’s jobless and homeless? That’s not because of Brynn. And to be fair, my firm submitted my name when the reporter asked for their best-looking attorney. I didn’t earn the distinction with my not-so-stellar corporate lawyering skills.


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