Christina Lauren – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Christina Lauren – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:12:22 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Christina Lauren – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 The Romance Revival Read Online Christina Lauren http://www.books2020.com/the-romance-revival-read-online-christina-lauren Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:12:22 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/the-romance-revival-read-online-christina-lauren Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Christina Lauren Advertisement

Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)

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An unforgettable novel in which one fateful accident erases a troubled marriage from memory—and love gets one extraordinary do-over.

Three years ago, Emery Finch did something completely out of character: She got married. To Luca—the impossibly charming landscaper she met on one blistering night in Vegas who made her laugh, made her dance, made her feel.

But now, Emery is consumed by her top-secret job, missing dinners, forgetting anniversaries, and promising herself Luca will understand once her cutting-edge research comes to light. Until the unthinkable happens: A tragic accident takes Luca from her.

Desperate not to lose him, Emery breaks every rule to bring him back. And Luca would probably thank her for it, if only he could remember her. Their first kiss, their Sunny Sundays at the beach, the life they built together...all of it is gone.

It may be a miracle of science, but for Emery it’s her one shot at a second chance. And this time, she won’t waste it—because true love is always worth reviving

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

Prologue EMERY

On paper, we never made sense.

He’s always wanted a family; I never even planned to get married. He surfs and hikes, bikes and runs; I hate sand and sun, and run only if death is the alternative or procuring coffee requires it. He’s an extrovert and charms everyone he meets; I like dogs more than people. He’s always down to dance with every grandma, drunk bridesmaid, and adorable flower girl at a wedding; you could not forcibly peel me from the wall during the “Cha Cha Slide.” He works to live; I live to work.

But when I surprised everyone and took a long weekend to attend my cousin’s wedding in Las Vegas, all it took was hearing his laugh from across the banquet hall for everything I thought I knew about myself to change.

Our eyes met, and his smile faltered for just a breath before he turned to the heavily tattooed man he was talking to, said something, and then made his way across the room to me, his eyes locked on mine. When he was only a foot away, I registered how tall he was, how broad, how attractive.

Shit.

I wanted to find some visible flaw. I couldn’t.

Beneath my sternum, an anxious lever flickered desperately, begging the universe to let me not fuck it up. I’d never been good at meet-cutes; my best friend had long since stopped bothering to set me up on blind dates. The first time, I apparently turned the guy off by talking about botflies while he tried to eat his orzo. I pissed the next one off by correcting his use of “less” when he meant “fewer.” Then there was the guy who talked the entire meal about the mountain of supplements I should be taking—and could I use his referral code at checkout?—before asking about my gym routine. Joke’s on him: I don’t even know where the nearest gym is. The final nail in the blind-date coffin was the one that ended before we’d even ordered entrees. It started out fine, but then he mentioned his favorite book was American Psycho. I knew my time would be better spent back in the lab. For, like, forever.

So that’s what I did, and gave up on dating entirely. My job was the best partner I could ask for anyway.

But then I came to Vegas, heard a perfect laugh, and suddenly he was in front of me. My mind went blank. Standing this close to him—he was wearing a black suit, no tie, his white shirt unbuttoned at the neck and exposing a peek of smooth, tanned collarbone—I felt as though the universe somehow answered my wish. I was no longer the lab-rat book nerd I’d always known myself to be. I was the woman in the blue strapless sequined dress who’d actually put on makeup for the first time in weeks, who’d agreed to let someone else braid her usually ponytailed hair into a woven crown on top of her head, who’d had two glasses of wine and wanted nothing more than to give the rest of the night to this man standing only inches away.

I would think back to this moment later when we stood side by side on Torrey Pines Beach, fingers intertwined, and the waves broke over our shins, cleaning away our trailing footprints like we’d never stepped anywhere but right where we were planted. That first night, he made me feel like I’d been spawned into the world, at this wedding, solely for him to walk across the room to me.

“I’m Luca,” he said, voice deep and calm.

“Emery.”

He took my hand, his smile turning from polite and a little unsure to flirtatious and elated. “Hi, Emery,” he whispered.

My heart did a painful lurch. Hot and endearing. My absolute kryptonite. “Hi, Luca.”

Luca huffed out a nervous chuckle as he released my hand. Reaching up, he ran his fingers through his thick dark blond hair, and I tracked the movement, mesmerized. “I saw you looking over and, I don’t know. Wanted to come meet you.”

“Oh, I just looked over because I heard your laugh,” I said lamely.

“Yeah?”

“It cut through the room like a firecracker in a library.” I immediately wanted to suck the words back into my mouth, but Luca beamed like it was the greatest compliment he’d ever received.

“A firecracker in a library, huh?”

I nodded. “I mean, it’s a pretty great laugh.”

He tilted his head at me, smiling, and I could tell that he’d heard some approximation of this before, probably a million times. His was the kind of laugh that made everyone feel good.

“You have beautiful eyes,” he said, looking at each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on the bright spot of copper in my right one.

I swallowed. “Thank you.”

The song changed, from upbeat to slow, and he stood looking at me like he had nothing else in the world to do, and just when I was about to burst from the tension, from rummaging through the attic of my rom-com cortex, looking for one usable line, Luca calmly held out his hand to me. “Do you want to dance?”

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Advertisement Accidentally Yours (The Improbable Meet-Cute #2) Read Online Christina Lauren http://www.books2020.com/accidentally-yours-the-improbable-meet-cute-2-read-online-christina-lauren Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:23:31 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/accidentally-yours-the-improbable-meet-cute-2-read-online-christina-lauren Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Authors: Christina Lauren Series: The Improbable Meet-Cute Series by Christina Lauren
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Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)

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Serendipity works wonders for a woman and her seemingly unattainable crush in a funny and flirty short story by Christina Lauren, New York Times bestselling author of The Unhoneymooners and My Favorite Half-Night Stand.

When marketing consultant Veronica accidentally crashes the wrong Zoom meeting and brutally critiques their presentation, she’s shocked to receive a job offer from the company’s intriguing CEO. Their professional email exchanges quickly turn flirty, but Veronica’s mind keeps drifting to her reserved but gorgeous new neighbor. As Valentine’s Day approaches, she’ll discover that sometimes the most improbable meet-cute can lead to the perfect match.

Christina Lauren’s Accidentally Yours is part of The Improbable Second Chances, stories for star-crossed lovers and hopeless romantics. They can be read or listened to in one sitting. Let’s do it again

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

January 14, 2026

iMessage

Veronica C.

Story time.

Clara C.

Yes!! I was just looking for an excuse to stop working.

So you know how I had that job interview today

Haven’t you already had like seven this week??

Well yes my adorable and fully employed sister, that’s how it goes in this market. Anyway, I had another one today, ostensibly for Chief Marketing Officer at BioLight

Is that like Bud Light, but by biologists, so it’s like actually good beer?

They use bioluminescence in their biochemical assays to determine ATP levels. But I like your answer better so let’s go with that.

You really did your research.

So, the interview is at 10am. Of course I’m at my desk ten minutes early, mouse hovering over the zoom link.

Such a Virgo.

And also very Virgo of me is to keep my camera off until everyone else has turned theirs on. I’m very glad I do this

Because

Somehow I ended up in a Zoom room with a bunch of tech bros, having a meeting in progress that I wasn’t actually invited to

So wait.

It wasn’t BioLight?

No, I have no idea what the company was

That’s freaking hilarious

It was a marketing meeting, and one of the bros was presenting

And when I say it was the worst slide deck I’d ever seen

I mean it was the worst, and that includes slides that Daniella made when I was babysitting her and she randomly opened PowerPoint on my laptop and started key smashing

lol I still feel guilty that my child broke so many keys on your laptop

Who uses the T and E and space keys? Come on.

Anyway, I listened to the presentation for a few minutes

Because in my head I’m like

These guys need marketing help

And there you were

There I was

Just an uninvited black box on the screen

Little did they know how much I could do for them

Alas, I remembered that I spent the last four years working with these same kinds of guys, saving them from their bad graphics and terrible pitches and watching them be promoted over me until, finally, I was let go with a paltry six-month severance

Preach it, sis

And I just got so mad suddenly that I gave so many ideas to the company and they took them, signed accounts, handed out bonuses to everyone at the level just above mine, and then let me go when I complained to HR that I was overdue for a promotion.

I’m just over here cheering out loud

Like screw these guys and their basic Keynote template slides and their recycled ideas!

I don’t think anyone noticed I’d joined, so I carefully changed my username from my email to just my initials and unmuted and told them their slides were absolute garbage, but about ten times more brutal, and then logged off.

My younger sister: my hero.

Chapter One

Veronica

Ihaven’t felt this good in weeks.

It’s pathetic, maybe, that it’s not because I have a job offer on the table—even better would be two offers I could pit against each other—but simply because I gave some tech bros a lashing and then peaced out. Whatever, I’m putting a tick in the win column anyway.

I’ve been carrying so much pent-up frustration and bitterness about the terrible years I spent at my previous job and how they then ended my four years of employment: in a flaccid HR meeting with a representative expressing all the concern of a bot reading a script, which concluded with me sighing a defeated, “Thanks for the mehpathy, Chad.” The resentment had been building and building, but after today’s Zoom mishap it’s just . . . evaporated.

My sister, Clara, says I could maybe have anticipated that a job with a marketing firm douchily named PitchSlapped would go south, but I swear it wasn’t terrible at first. I was spring green out of my MBA and was the dangerous combination of idealistic and buried beneath student loans when they offered me a marketing associate position. PitchSlapped came to me with a six-figure offer, including free lunches for all employees, a game room for break time, an in-house gym, company ski retreats to Vail, and five weeks’ vacation. No other job offer even came close.

They promoted me quickly to marketing manager and then associate vice director of marketing, a meaningless title created by some idiot being paid way too much money and which I hated seeing on my business cards. I languished there, giving all my best ideas in the higher-level meetings while not being invited to the higher-level salary, stock options, or bonuses. Company retreats turned out to be full of coke and misogyny. Vacation time was granted but not expected to be taken. The game room had a pool table, a Grand Theft Auto arcade console, and a pinball machine called Whoa Nellie! Big Juicy Melons.

It begs the question: “But, Veronica, you stayed for four years?” Perhaps not the best evidence of self-preservation skills, but even if I have a chip on my shoulder from the experience, at least after those four years with the PitchSlapped salary, I don’t have any student loans.

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