At Recess (Courting Curves #1) Read Online Loni Ree

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Courting Curves Series by Loni Ree
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Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
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Letty:
My darn lead foot is going to land me in jail. Since moving to the small Texas town, I’ve gotten four speeding tickets and the sheriff is tired of giving me tickets—tired of dealing with me. To keep my license, I have to go in front of a grouchy old judge and convince him I’ve finally learned my lesson. Oof.
I get the shock of my life when I discover the judge isn’t grouchy or old and I’m pretty sure his heated stare isn’t all anger at my lawlessness. I might be inexperienced with men, but I’m pretty sure there are sparks flying around the courtroom as he stares down at me. I’m in so much trouble here.

Lex:
I’m not too pumped over my move to Silver Spoon Falls. In fact, I pretty much dread the change. Surely, the small Texas town where I grew up will be boring compared to my current home in Las Vegas but I don’t have much of a choice. My dad is retiring and I’m expected to take over for him.
Little did I know, fate has a surprise in store for me, the curvy little lawbreaker called Lead Foot Letty. One look at the little troublemaker, and I know life will never be the same. She stole my heart and now she’s stuck with me.
Since she can’t take things slow, I’m going to throw caution to the wind and take her on the wildest ride of her life. I’ll do whatever it takes to tame my little lawbreaker. Even if it means cuffing her to my bed.
If you like sugary sweet, steamy, over-the-top, curvy girl insta-love with an abundance of humor, and tiny amount of drama this short story is perfect for you.

Grab your gavel and don your robes. Court is in session!

These lawyers and judges are about to face their toughest cases yet…falling in love! Finding their soulmates wasn’t on the docket, and they’re not even remotely prepared to argue their cases, but futures are on the line in the series of sweet and steamy instalove romances from seven of your favorite curvy-girl romance authors!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter 1

LETTY

Fudgemuffin. My heart drops to my toes as I glance in my rearview mirror and see the red and blue lights flashing behind me. Looks like I’m going to be really freaking late. I pull Betsy over to the side of the road and get my excuses, driver’s license, and registration ready. I know the drill.

I paste my cheeriest smile on my face and turn to the officer. “Good morning.” The smile slips off my face when I see the angry scowl on Sheriff Armstrong’s face. Oh, man. When I woke up with a headache, I knew it was going to be a bad day.

“Letty, do you have any idea how fast you were going?” he growls, and my excuses dry up in my throat. Why couldn’t it be Deputy Williams who caught me this time? The deputy usually flirts a little and then lets me off with a warning. The deep frown lines running between Sheriff Armstrong’s eyebrows tell me he isn’t in the flirting or warning mood.

Swallowing, I pull myself together and blurt out my excuse. “No. Betsy’s speedometer went out, and I haven’t had the time to get it fixed. Plus, Edward at the garage said he doesn’t know if he can even fix her anymore because she’s so old, they don’t even make parts anymore. Once we get Curvology up and running, I plan to buy a new car, but I’m not going to put Betsy out to pasture. I’m going to keep her, but I won’t drive her as much.” My grandmother gave the forty-year-old VW Bug to me for my sixteenth birthday.

“Stop.” Sheriff Armstrong holds out his hand, stopping my ranting. “You can’t drive a car around without a functioning speedometer.” He shakes his head, and I’m really glad he has the mirrored sunglasses on so I can’t see the disappointment in his eyes. “You were going fifty-seven miles an hour in a thirty-five zone.” He lifts off his sunglasses and glares down at me. “That’s twenty-two miles an hour over the speed limit,” the sheriff adds, implying I can’t freaking add.

“Oops.” All my excuses fly right out of my mind.

“Oops? Is that all you have to say for yourself?” His face turns a frightening shade of red.

“My bad,” I add and almost slap my forehead at my impulsive words as his eyes narrow to slits. My freaking brain isn’t functioning without my usual white chocolate mocha with a double shot of espresso.

“You can explain this to the judge. I’m adding reckless driving to the speeding ticket.” Darn. My bad day just got worse.

“But…” All excuses fly right out of my throbbing head, so I blurt out my first thought. “Can’t you give me a break?”

“I am giving you a break.” He shakes his head and hands me the little computer pad to sign. “I should take you right to jail for the reckless driving, but I don’t feel like dealing with the headache.”

That makes two of us. “Thank you,” I grumble, knowing this is all my fault. I should’ve gotten Betsy’s speedometer fixed after my first ticket. Not my seventh.

I stop for my usual latte then head straight for the boutique. As I drive through Silver Spoon Falls, I glance in my rearview mirror and find the sheriff following closely behind me. He really doesn’t trust me. When I hear my older sister’s ringtone coming from my oversized purse, I groan. Shoot. Holding the wheel with one hand, I dig for my cell with the other. Hopefully, Sheriff Grouchypants doesn’t realize I’m taking one of my hands off the steering wheel. He’d probably take me straight to jail.

“Hello.” I’m out of breath by the time I manage to answer the call before it stops ringing. I’m sure my sister is worried that I’m not already at Curvology, the boutique we’re opening in Silver Spoon Falls.

“Where are you?” Jazzy grumbles. “You left home before me.” No kidding. Usually, we ride to work together, but I had to drive myself today since Jazzy and I each have meetings this afternoon in opposite parts of town.

“I had a little trouble,” I grumble and ease my foot off the accelerator.

“Another ticket?” My older sister knows me so well. Being the middle of three sisters is a pain sometimes. Jazzy, the oldest, is overprotective, while Skye, our youngest sister, is even flightier than me.

“Yep.” I sigh, not elaborating. I’ll explain everything to her later when I’m not trying to drive carefully. “I’ll be there in five minutes,” I tell her and hang up before I get in even more trouble.

Exactly four minutes later, I wave at the sheriff as he drives off. The big jerk followed me all the way here and watched me park. I juggle my purse, computer bag, and coffee cup, trying to make my way to the back door without making a mess.


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