Vi Keeland – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Vi Keeland – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:02:03 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Vi Keeland – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Crooked Read Online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward http://www.books2020.com/crooked-read-online-vi-keeland-penelope-ward Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:02:03 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/crooked-read-online-vi-keeland-penelope-ward Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)

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A new, sexy standalone from bestsellers Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

The last thing I needed was a live-in bodyguard. And I definitely didn’t want him. Six foot two, with broad shoulders that were impossible to ignore and a talent for getting in my way, Wes Callahan was a walking bad decision.

But when you’re the daughter of a notorious mob boss, apparently your opinions stop mattering the moment your father ignites another war. I’d spent my entire life trying to escape that crooked world—new name, new city, newfound freedom. At least until I was suddenly shacked up with my new bodyguard.

Wes knew exactly how to push my buttons. He was also infuriatingly protective. And smart. And funny. And thoughtful when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. Little by little, the walls I’d built started to crack, and falling for the bodyguard became the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. Because if my father found out, Wes wouldn’t just lose his job. He’d lose his life.

Getting involved with him was reckless, yet I couldn’t find a way to stop it, no matter how hard I tried. But while I was busy losing my heart, the man who took it was hiding a secret.

And it turned out, the most dangerous man in my life wasn’t my father after all—it was the one who threatened to break my heart

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

CHAPTER 1

* * *

Juliette

Ugh. What the heck time is it?

I pushed my sleep mask up onto my forehead and reached over to the nightstand to unplug my ringing cell from the charger. Arlo Quinn flashed on the screen, and unless I’d slept eighteen hours, he was calling me at five fifteen AM.

“Hello?” My voice cracked with morning grog.

“Hey, Jules. It’s Arlo. I’m sorry to wake you this early.”

“If you aren’t calling to tell me there’s a wildfire heading straight for my house, I’m hanging up.”

He sighed. “Bradley doesn’t like the rewrites you did.”

I sprang upright. “What? How is that possible? It’s the fourth set of rewrites I’ve done for those scenes, and I barely even wrote any of the words. Bradley dictated how he wanted the entire thing to go.”

“I know. I’m sorry. He can be…difficult sometimes.”

“Parallel parking in front of The Ivy while being watched by a table of movie stars is difficult. Figuring out what to wear when someone tells you dinner is smart casual is difficult. Bradley Wilson? That man is a giant asshole.”

Arlo chuckled. “He wants to meet with you at six in his trailer at the studio.”

“That’s in forty-five minutes.”

“I know. He just woke me up to have me call you.”

I shook my head and ripped the covers from my body, dragging myself out of bed. “Does Sam know he asked for rewrites again?”

“I’m not sure.”

Translation—the director has no freaking clue. These constant rewrites had become a control game for Bradley, a power trip of sorts. The director’s team spends hours planning the next day’s shoot, only to have the star show up ten minutes before call time and drop twenty pages of rewrites in their laps. After, he struts back to his trailer to sip his stupid grande, iced, half-caff, ristretto, sugar-free vanilla, oat milk macchiato with no foam and enjoy a one-hour massage. I had no clue why the director put up with it. Actually, that wasn’t true. He probably did it for the same reason I did. Because Bradley Wilson was—Lord knows why—one of Hollywood’s biggest A-list actors at the moment, and the jerk had a lot of industry pull.

Annoyed, I padded into the kitchen to the coffeemaker. “I’ll be there, Arlo. But you have to invite Sam, too, or at least one of the assistant directors. They need to be in the loop from now on.”

“Okay. I’ll make some calls.”

I breathed out on a huff. “Thank you.”

“There’s one more thing…”

“I’m afraid to ask. What?”

“Bradley requested you stop at Robeks and pick up his morning energy drink.”

My eyes bulged. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

The poor assistant sighed. “I’m afraid not.”

“No.” I shook my head vigorously. “I’m not doing it. I’m a screenplay writer, not his damn gopher.”

“I would do it myself, but my girlfriend and I share a car, and she works the night shift. She doesn’t get home until seven.”

“Why can’t he have his drink delivered from Uber Eats?”

“He doesn’t trust the drivers.”

“What does he think is going to happen? They’re going to poison him? Wait, on second thought, maybe I will pick up his energy drink, with a side of cyanide.”

“I’ll take an Uber and get it for him. I really am sorry to keep calling you with all his requests, Jules.”

I took a deep breath in and let it out. It wasn’t Arlo’s fault. And the poor guy probably made minimum wage for dealing with his asshole boss all day long. “I’ll pick up his drink. There’s a Robeks on my way to the studio.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t guarantee I won’t add some laxatives so he’s stuck in the bathroom half the day, but yeah. I’m sure.”

“Thanks, Jules. I’ll text you his order. It’s sort of long.”

Of course it is… After I hung up, I brewed a cup of coffee and took a three-minute shower. I did not wash my hair. Looking in the half-fogged mirror, I gave myself a quick internal pep talk. Think on the bright side. Your day can’t get much worse than being woken up at five AM and having a spoiled actor’s breakfast order to fetch.

Unfortunately, the universe must’ve taken my attempt at manifesting a better day as more of a challenge. Because when I climbed into my car at twenty minutes to six, my cell phone rang a second time. And the name on the screen this time was probably the only person I wanted to speak to less at this hour than Bradley Wilson—my father.

I debated not picking it up, but the last time I’d avoided Dad for a half day, he’d sent one of his goons to my house to knock on my door. So I took yet another deep breath and told myself dealing with my father would be good practice for my meeting with Bradley—a primer in staying calm.

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Advertisement The Exception Read Online Vi Keeland http://www.books2020.com/the-exception-read-online-vi-keeland Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:24:04 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/the-exception-read-online-vi-keeland Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Authors: Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >106

He lives by a set of rules. She might be his one exception.

I just wanted a distraction, something to take the edge off before facing a wedding I was dreading. So on the flight back to New York, I signed up for a dating app. Harmless enough, right?

Wrong.

Turns out, it wasn’t just any app—it catered to people with very specific tastes. By the time I realized it, I was already on my date.

Tall, confident, and sinfully handsome, Jagger Langston seemed like the full package. The chemistry between us was instant—electric enough to burn the whole city down. Though things took a turn when we figured out I’d misunderstood who should join the app. We laughed it off, said goodbye, and went our separate ways.

Or so I thought.

Until I walked into my new internship Monday morning, ready to put the weekend behind me, and there he was—my boss.

Now I’m caught between the rules he lives by—and the temptation to make him break every single one of them

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

CHAPTER 1

* * *

Sutton

“Please tell me you didn’t bring that hideous brown dress to wear to the wedding.”

No hello, no how are you—just straight to the point when I answered. It was one of the things I loved about Miles Hartley, except when his point was a critique of me.

I took a step forward in line. “It’s a beautiful dress.”

“It is. You should wear it to bingo when you go down to visit your grandmother in Florida.”

I rolled my eyes, but chuckled. “I hate you.”

“No, you love me. You hate when I’m right. Which is often, when it comes to your life. And because you love me so much, I’m currently in your room digging through boxes looking for the red dress you should’ve brought. I’ll bring it in my bag tomorrow. Also, why did you answer the phone? I thought I was going to leave you a message. Shouldn’t you be in the air by now?”

“Hang on a second.” I took another step and handed the gate agent my boarding pass.

She scanned it. “Have a good flight.”

“Thank you.” Once I entered the jet bridge, I lifted my phone and returned my attention to Miles on FaceTime. “Weren’t you just wearing blue glasses a minute ago?”

He shrugged. “These match your panties.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. My best friend had a collection of more than a hundred pairs of glasses, each more colorful than the last. He had a penchant for matching them to his outfits, but pairing them with my panties was a new one.

“I thought your flight took off at eight?” he said.

“It’s delayed an hour. And you better pack everything back up and seal the boxes when you’re done rummaging through my life. The moving company is coming tomorrow morning to bring me those.”

“Ooh. When did you get this red mesh bra? Does it have matching panties?”

“Can you please stop going through my underwear?”

“Seriously, this thing is hot as fuck. It might even make my gay ass a little hard if you put it on.”

“Wonderful. I can finally achieve my life’s goal.”

“If there aren’t matching panties, I’m going shopping and finding you some. Because this is what you’re wearing under the red dress at the wedding.”

“I’m not wearing the red dress.”

“Then how are you going to bang the best man?”

“I am not banging Brendan’s brother.”

Though I was definitely overdue for a good banging. Way, way overdue. And I hadn’t mentioned to Miles that I planned to remedy that problem sooner rather than later.

“Why not? His underbite doesn’t make him look as much like a bulldog as it did before the braces.”

I boarded the plane and found my row. “I have to go. I just got to my seat, and I need to put my luggage in the overhead bin and get situated.”

“All right. But promise me one thing.”

I sighed. “What?”

“You won’t have a couple of glasses of wine and respond to the jackrabbit’s text. You get emotional when you drink.”

“I am definitely not responding to Brendan.” I was stopped in the aisle with my luggage, and the woman behind me didn’t look happy. “Gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After I hung up and stowed my bags, I settled into my seat. The flight from LA to New York was five and a half hours. I’d been annoyed when my mother had called the airline pretending to be me and upgraded my ticket to first class, but the big, comfy seat that reclined to a bed now made this section seem more and more like a little slice of heaven. Especially when the flight attendant walked over carrying a tray.

“Would you like orange juice or champagne before we take off?”

“Oooh. I love mimosas. I’ll take both.”

She nodded. “Good choice.”

It had been a year since I’d flown home to New York, and I’d forgotten how big these planes were. Boarding went on for a full half hour. So when the flight attendant returned with the bottle of champagne and offered a refill, I happily nodded.

“Yes, please. It’ll help take the edge off.”

She smiled. “Nervous flier?”

“No. But I’m going home for a wedding I’m not looking forward to.”

“Is there someone you don’t want to see attending?”

I nodded. “The groom. He’s my ex.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. You must be a bigger person than me. Not sure I’d go to my ex’s wedding, if I was invited.”

“I don’t have too much of a choice. He’s marrying my stepsister.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my.”

I sighed. “Tell me about it.”

She refilled my champagne flute to the brim and set the half-full bottle on my tray table. “It’s going to be a bit before we get to pull away from the gate. The runway is backed up since we missed our time slot. I’ll just leave this here. My name is Aileen. Buzz if you need anything else.”

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Advertisement Denim & Diamonds Read Online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward http://www.books2020.com/denim-diamonds-read-online-vi-keeland-penelope-ward Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:27:19 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/denim-diamonds-read-online-vi-keeland-penelope-ward Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Authors: Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 540(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >110

From New York Times bestselling authors Penelope Ward and Vi Keeland comes a new standalone romance.

When the board of directors of my company mandated that I go to a wellness facility in small-town Maine to recharge, that shouldn’t have a ladder to sneak out of the bedroom window at night and going to the local bar.Getting so drunk that the bar owner brought me upstairs to sleep it off in his bed.Waking up staring at the taxidermy moose head on said bar owner’s wall.Falling for said bar owner who was the most drop-dead gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.But Brock Hawkins was so much more than just the hot bar owner. He owned half the town, built log cabins with his bare hands, and was apparently the most eligible man in all of Meadowbrook.
He was also a cinnamon roll despite his seemingly rock-hard exterior.
And the last man I should’ve been falling for—because my time in this small town was limited.
I had to head back to my life in New York City, one that was the complete opposite from the kind Brock lived.
He was denim. I was diamonds.
The problem was, the sexy lumberjack wasn’t the type of man who was easy to walk away from. Hell, I couldn’t even part with his plaid shirt that had become a constant fixture wrapped around my shoulders most days, let alone think about erasing him from my life.
A life with Brock, though, would have to be all or nothing.
Go big or go home.
I just didn’t realize that choosing to go big might also mean getting my heart broken when Brock’s life took a turn neither of us saw coming

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

CHAPTER 1

* * *

February

Ugh. My aching head.

I lifted it from the pillow and looked around the room. Where the hell am I? This was definitely not my room at Sierra Wellness Center, and why the heck are my eyes burning so much? I must’ve left my contacts in last night. I blinked a few times, attempting to get rid of the dryness. It helped, but when my vision came into focus, I found myself staring into the eyes of…a giant moose.

“Holy shit!” I jumped from the bed and landed on my ass on the hard floor.

Clunk-clunk. Click.

Clunk-clunk. Click.

My grandfather had loved old westerns, so I knew the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being pumped and cocked. I squeezed my eyes shut and raised my hands into the air. I might’ve also peed my pants a little. “Don’t shoot! Please don’t shoot!”

“What the hell, Red?” a deep, throaty voice growled. “I’m not going to fucking shoot you.”

I peeked one eye open and found a bearded man standing on the other side of the bed wearing a pair of boxer shorts and holding a gun. He looked vaguely familiar.

“Well, then stop pointing that thing at me!”

“Sorry.” He lowered it. “What the hell did you scream like that for?”

I blinked a few times. “Who the hell are you?”

“Jesus Christ,” the guy mumbled. “You don’t remember last night?”

My eyes bulged. Last night? Oh my God. Did I sleep with this lumberjack? I looked down and was relieved to find I still had all my clothes on, boots and all.

The guy shook his head. “You’d remember it, sweetheart. Trust me.”

“What?”

“You just checked to see what you were wearing, so I’m guessing you were questioning whether we had sex. We didn’t. And if we had, you’d remember it.”

“Why is that?”

The corner of his lip twitched. “How’s your noggin?”

The pain I’d felt when I first opened my eyes came roaring back with a vengeance. I reached for my head. “Who are you, and what the heck did I drink last night?”

Lumberjack bent and lifted the mattress, casually tucking the rifle between it and the boxspring.

“Is that where that gets filed?” I asked.

His lip twitched again. “It is. And an extra dry martini, shaken not stirred, with a lemon twist, dash of orange bitters, and two bleu cheese olives.”

I felt my nose wrinkle. “What?”

“You asked what you drank last night. That’s what your prissy order was. Though that’s not actually what you drank.”

“A dry martini is not prissy.”

“In this town it is, especially the way you order it.”

“What did I drink if my order was too prissy for you?”

“Vodka.”

“With?”

“Ice.”

“No wonder my head is killing me. Why would you give me that?”

Lumberjack’s eyebrows shot up. “Because you asked for it when I told you I didn’t have orange bitters, bleu cheese olives, or lemons, and I was all out of vermouth.”

“You told me you didn’t have it? So you’re who…the bartender?”

He frowned. “Yeah. I’m the bartender. Is that below your standards or something? I also own the place.”

“I didn’t mean it like that… I just…” I shook my head and looked around the room. For the first time, I realized the moose wasn’t alone. He had friends—a deer with big antlers, a bear, and some other thing I thought might be an elk. “Did you kill all these animals?”

Lumberjack folded his arms across his broad chest. “Is that a problem?”

“I’m guessing for them it was.”

He walked around the bed and held a hand out to me—I was still sitting on the floor. I hesitated, and he shook his head. “It’s my hand, sweetheart. Not my dick.”

My nose scrunched up. “Crass much?”

“Rather be crass than condescending.”

I put my hand in his. “I am not condescending.”

“No?”

“No.”

He helped me to my feet. “If you say so.”

I brushed my clothes off. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

Lumberjack pointed. “Maybe while you’re in there, you can pry the stick out of your ass.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re rude.”

He sighed. “Just go do what you gotta do, Red.”

“Red. That’s original.” I attempted to lift my chin into the air and keep a bit of my dignity as I walked to the bathroom. But the screech I let out when I shut the door was anything but dignified. “Umm…Lumberjack?” I was afraid to move.

Footsteps came closer on the other side of the door. “Is that supposed to be me?”

“Did you know there’s a giant dog in your bathtub?”

“I did indeed.”

The Saint Bernard tilted his head at me, curiously. “You could’ve warned me.”

There was silence for a few seconds, then, “Hey, Red?”

“Yeah?”

“Oak sleeps in the bathtub.”

“Is Oak the dog?”

“Yep.”

“Does he bite?”

“He sleeps in the bathtub because he’s afraid of his own shadow. I think you’re safe.”

“Great,” I mumbled.

I had one of those bladders that got overly excited once it saw a toilet, so I didn’t have time for any more small talk. I walked to the porcelain throne and peed while the giant dog stared. Fitting. I had a moose and deer watch me sleep.

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Advertisement Someone Knows Read Online Vi Keeland http://www.books2020.com/someone-knows-read-online-vi-keeland Mon, 30 Jun 2025 19:09:02 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/someone-knows-read-online-vi-keeland Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)

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An English professor’s deadly past comes back to haunt her in this chilling and sexy thriller from #1 New York Times bestselling author Vi Keeland.

As a college English professor, Elizabeth looks forward to the start of each new semester teaching her creative writing seminar. At least until she reads chapter one of The Reckoning, a tale about a high school senior who has an affair with her teacher. To anyone else it would be the beginning of a great page-turner, but to Elizabeth it is the beginning of the end.

She knows this story. It’s all familiar because she lived it. The girl in the story was her best friend Jocelyn, and Elizabeth knows exactly how the story will end—with the professor dead. Because she was the one who killed him.

Someone knows what Elizabeth did twenty years ago and her secret is about to be exposed, but who is the mystery student submitting the chapters? In an effort to find out, Elizabeth returns to her Louisiana hometown where it soon becomes clear that no matter how many years have gone by, she can’t escape her past

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

CHAPTER

1

May 20th. The date printed at the top of the newspaper startles me, and I drop it like it’s a hot coal that’s burned my hands. It falls to the floor in a scattered array of ink-stained stories. The man behind the counter frowns.

“Sorry,” I offer as I bend, then do my best to shuffle the pages into order and place the paper back on top of the New York Post pile before moving to the magazine rack. Sports Illustrated has a racehorse on the cover. Mr. Hank, my old landlord, will like that, so I pluck it from the pile and head to the register to pay.

It’s the third time I’ve been reminded of the date since I woke up, and it’s only 4 p.m. Normally, when I’m teaching summer classes, like I am now, I only go in twice a week, so I don’t even know what day it is. But May 20th isn’t just any day, I suppose. It’s the twenty-year anniversary of the day I’ll never forget.

I leave the bodega and decide to walk the fifteen or so blocks to Mr. Hank’s assisted-living facility, rather than taking the subway. It’s beautiful out, and I still need to stop and pick up donuts. Plus, I don’t want to see him until I can clear my head. He’s struggling through dementia, so the last thing he needs is me bringing my anxiety for a visit. But my mind whirls as I walk, and not even the bright pink blossoms of the magnolia tree in Union Square Park can soothe the melancholy that lingers in my heart.

I pass the High Note, the pub where I met Derek, the guy I used to hook up with before Sam, and look through the front window. Derek was a fireman. A few guys are sitting at the bar, probably firemen, too. They seem to occupy the place most evenings. I don’t have any desire to go in, but it gives me an idea, reminds me there’s a way to loosen the tight knot in my neck and take the edge off all the anxiety I feel today. So I reach into my pocket, pull out my cell, and type as I stroll past the bar.

Elizabeth: Up for hanging out tonight?

“Hanging out” sounds so much better than fucking me until I can’t think straight anymore. But running five miles this morning didn’t clear my head, and I’m sure Sam won’t mind. He’s always been the initiator of our get-togethers and has mentioned more than once that I could reach out to him, too.

Fifteen minutes later, I arrive at Park Manor Nursing Home. I still don’t feel great, but Sam’s enthusiastic response to my text has helped, smoothing the edges of my jangled nerves. He’s working tonight, though, so I won’t see him until tomorrow.

I check in with the nurse at the desk on the third floor, and she hits the button to unlock the door to the memory care unit. It’s easy to find Mr. Hank—he’s laughing uproariously at the television in the lounge. The hearty sound lifts my mood more than anything else today. As I approach, he catches sight of me, his eyes twinkling with recognition.

“Elizabeth!” he says. “C’mon over here, young lady.”

The warmth of his greeting thrills me. Despite the fact that he saved my life when I first moved to New York—two days shy of twenty years ago—by giving me a discount on rent and telling me where to look for a job, he sometimes can’t recall who I am now. I hurry over, give him a big hug, and offer the bag of donuts I picked up from his favorite street vendor. They’re chocolate, also his favorite—that’s one thing he never forgets.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to.” I smile, holding out the magazine and daily racing form I picked up at OTB earlier. “I shouldn’t encourage your habit, but I thought you might like these, too.”

Mr. Hank has been a gambler all of his life, mostly on the ponies. He can’t go outside without the assistance of an aide anymore, and he refuses to use anything but a landline phone, yet somehow he’s figured out how to create a FanDuel account on his iPad so he can bet ten dollars a day on horse races.

“You’re too good to me.” He pulls a chocolate donut from the bag and licks his lips. “You know, I used to make chocolate donuts. Just like this. Only better, of course.”

I smile. “Of course. Your bakery was voted best donuts in New York City, eighteen years in a row.”

He takes a bite, chews slowly, and I can tell he’s savoring it.

“I was the only baker in my neighborhood to keep making them by hand after the donut machines came out.” Another bite. This time with a groan of happiness as he chews.

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Advertisement Jilted Read Online Vi Keeland http://www.books2020.com/jilted-read-online-vi-keeland Mon, 12 May 2025 18:29:22 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/jilted-read-online-vi-keeland Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

Bramble's first never-before-published title from #1 New York Times bestseller Vi Keeland is Jilted, a slow-burn, swooning romance where 27 Dresses meets The Hating Game.

Weddings. I spend every working minute thinking and talking and writing about weddings, when the very concept makes me want to scream. After my fiancé abandoned me at the altar last year, my dream job at Bride magazine has turned reoccurring nightmare.

To add insult to injury, I’ve been conscripted into the bridal party of some bridezilla just because she knows the owners’ son. So of course I spend all afternoon bickering with one of the groomsmen and all evening making out with him.

Things only get better when I learn that of course he’s the owner’s son and I’ll have to spend the rest of the season working with him at every single wedding I cover this year.

Can the jilted bride and the man who is afraid of love find a way to heal each other?

At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied

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

1

SLOANE

“Oh dear Lord.” Elijah blinked up at me. “You’re joking, right?”

I snort-laughed and raised my hand to get my brother Will’s attention. “Nope. This is what we’re stuck with.”

My brother walked over. He wiped his hands on a bar towel and slung it over his shoulder. “What do you want now, Peaty?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take another margarita, and Elijah here will have…” I looked over and waited for my best friend and work partner in crime to fill in the blank. But he was too busy drooling over Will. I shook my head. “He’ll have a margarita, too. But frosty ones this time, not on the rocks.”

“Frosty.” Will huffed. “Two pains in the asses coming right up.”

Elijah pushed up from his seat and leaned over the bar to watch Will walk away. “Are you sure he’s not gay?”

“He screwed half my female friends in high school, married his college sweetheart, and has a daughter.” I motioned toward my brother. “Besides, how can you even think that? He’s wearing a brown shirt, black pants, and green Crocs.”

Elijah’s nose wrinkled. “That is pretty bad. But I could overlook it with that jawline.”

I chuckled.

“Why does he call you Peaty, anyway?”

“Because he’s annoying. When I was little, I used to get really nervous when the teacher would call on me in class. I developed a habit of repeating the question back before answering, which somehow soothed me. Will and my other brother, Travis, found out and started calling me Repeat. It morphed into Peaty over the years.”

“Hot and funny. Exactly my type. What a shame.” Elijah scooped a few cashews from the small bowl on the bar and tossed one into the air, his mouth open. The nut smacked his cheek and fell to the floor.

“Do you think maybe we’re being pranked?” I motioned to the papers spread out on the bar—our last-minute assignment for this evening. “How can a bride really pick these dresses?”

“Dresses? What about the fascinators? We’re not in England, and this isn’t a garden wedding. I think maybe you’re right and someone is screwing with us.”

I looked at the time on my phone. “Damn. It’s already four. We have to get on the road soon or we’re going to be late. Tell Will I went to the back to change when he comes with our drinks. I’m going to pull a Superman in the supply closet. It’s bigger than the bathroom, and I don’t want to accidentally dip my dress in toilet water like I did last month.”

“Okay. But when it’s my turn to get dressed, don’t tell him I’m back there.” Elijah winked. “I want him to walk in on me naked.”

I slipped on one of the standard LBDs I always wore to the weddings we covered and paired it with sparkly silver stilettos. After, I fixed my makeup and sprayed my hair upside down in an attempt to give it some volume. When I came out, Elijah’s head was bent back in laughter, while Will stood on the other side of the bar with a devious smile.

This can’t be good. “Whatever he told you”—I tossed my duffle bag on the barstool—“it’s a complete lie. Don’t believe him.”

Elijah laughed. “So when you were seven, you didn’t give out wedding invitations to everyone you knew so they could come watch you marry the family dog? And the dog didn’t spend the entire ceremony trying to hump your back?”

I scowled at Will. “That only happened because this jerk pretended to wish me luck and rubbed peanut butter on the back of my dress. Buddy was obsessed with peanut butter. If someone opened a jar, he’d hump a couch pillow.”

Elijah continued to cackle. Too bad that incident hadn’t soured me on my obsession with weddings. It could have saved a lot of heartache, and maybe right now I’d be a real journalist instead of a writer for Bride magazine.

“Go get changed, Elijah.” I pointed to my brother. “And you, go back to being flattered by attention from seventeen-year-old girls who flirt with you so you’ll accept their cousin’s ID that says they’re twenty-nine.”

“Jeez,” Will said. “Someone’s cranky.”

“Cranky? Why would I be cranky? Because I’m going to yet another wedding I don’t feel like going to on a Saturday night?”

“You’re on your period, aren’t you?”

My eyes flared wide. “Go away, Will.”

My brother meant no harm. This was who we were—busting chops was our love language. But I was a little cranky this afternoon. Or maybe I’d been that way for the last six months. I used to love my job. Getting dressed up and going to extravagant weddings and writing about them for a living? Dishing out advice to my more than 1.5 million bride-to-be followers on social media? It was my dream job, one I’d wished for even before I was old enough to plan an elegant backyard wedding with two-year-old Buddy the dog. I’d been obsessed with weddings since I was a little girl. Maybe even addicted—wedding movies, wedding dresses, wedding venues—heck, I’d had the readings for my future ceremony picked out since I was ten. My parents lived a fairy-tale life, and I believed I would get my own happily ever after. I lived for it. Dumb. I know that now. But the day I’d gotten engaged had been the happiest day of my life. Then my big day came and … I was left standing alone at the altar. Jilted.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >97

Advertisement Indiscretion Read Online Vi Keeland http://www.books2020.com/indiscretion-read-online-vi-keeland Sun, 02 Feb 2025 19:15:54 +0000 http://www.books2020.com/indiscretion-read-online-vi-keeland Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary Authors: Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

A new, sexy standalone from #1 New York Times Bestseller, Vi Keeland.

He's her boss. She's his greatest temptation.

The first time I met Dawson Reed, we wound up in bed.
The problem was, neither of us knew the other were there.
When I woke up in the middle of the night and found a stranger next to me, instinct kicked in and I attacked the intruder.
Only it turned out, the man wasn’t an intruder at all.
Dawson had rented this cabin, too. Apparently, a system glitch allowed a duplicate booking.
We’d soon find out we were in town for the same wedding, and Dawson was the groomsman I’d been warned about. He was as tall, dark and jaw-droppingly gorgeous as my best friend had described. Though she was also right when she’d said you two will hate each other.
When daylight rolled around, Dawson and I attempted to straighten out the mess we found ourselves in. But it proved to be more difficult than we initially thought. Since it was a holiday weekend, there wasn’t a single room available for more than fifty miles.
I suppose things could be worse than sharing a cabin for a weekend with a handsome man you despise.
Like maybe him winding up being your new boss?

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

Chapter 1

* * *

DAWSON

What the hell is my buddy thinking?

I stood on the rickety porch of the cabin I’d rented through Airbnb and looked around. Trees. Dirt. Smack. Great. Damn mosquitos, too. Maybe things would look better after a good night’s sleep. Lord knows I needed one.

The twelve-hour drive from New York to Michigan had taken fifteen because everyone and their mother was traveling on Fourth of July weekend. It was two in the morning now, and I hoped to hell this shitty shack at least had a decent mattress. The front door was supposed to need a numerical code to enter, but when I reached for the handle, it was unlocked.

The inside was smaller than it had looked in the pictures, but at least it seemed clean. Ben’s fiancée had described the area as rustic and quaint, but all I saw was a cabin that might’ve been featured in a horror movie last year, and a refrigerator so old that I thought it might need an ice block to keep things cold. I sighed and scanned the galley kitchen for an outlet. Finding one next to an antique toaster, I was surprised there was already an iPhone charger plugged in. That must be the modern conveniences the house had boasted about in its description.

Whatever. I was desperate for some sleep. Though before that could happen, I needed a shower, so I took one last look around the living space and headed down the only hall. There were two doors. The first one I opened had a full bath with folded towels stacked conveniently on a shelf. I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the bathtub.

Soon warm water sluiced over my knotted shoulders. I took a few deep breaths, grateful for good water pressure, and let myself relax into the pelting shower. This trip was definitely not my idea of a vacation, but I needed a few days away from the office. Away from Emily—and my life.

No criminals telling me their bullshit tale of woe.

No green, newbie public defenders coming into court completely unprepared and requesting a continuance to mess up my packed calendar.

No ex to see all day long.

Nature wasn’t my thing. Ideally, a few days away from the office would involve a five-star hotel on a Caribbean island, sipping cocktails at the in-pool bar, and waking up to a sexy naked woman next to me. And I’d thought I was going to get exactly that when my buddy had announced he was having a destination wedding. But instead, it looked like I was going to need bug spray, hiking boots, and quite possibly a banjo. Fuck my life.

The hot shower actually worked to relax me a bit, or maybe I was just that tired. I’d driven after a morning court appearance and two conference calls, so either way, sleep was next on the agenda. Suddenly too lazy to deal with opening my suitcase, I dried off and wrapped a towel around my waist. There wasn’t another cabin nearby, so I could skip the underwear and freeball all I wanted. Hell, maybe I’d have my coffee naked on the porch tomorrow morning.

There was only one other room in this little cabin, so it wasn’t too difficult to figure out where the bedroom was. The door creaked open, and I felt around the wall for a light switch, but there wasn’t one. I managed to feel my way in the pitch dark and make it to the bed without stubbing a toe, so I decided seeing where I was sleeping wasn’t a priority and climbed in. Unlike the rest of the cabin, which smelled sort of mildewy, this room smelled nice, almost floral. They must’ve washed these sheets with a decent brand of laundry detergent. That was a welcome surprise. The scent relaxed me even more than the shower had. That is, until I rolled over and something walloped me in the face.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >98

Advertisement The Rules of Dating a Younger Man (The Laws of Opposite Attract #4) Read Online Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward http://www.books2020.com/the-rules-of-dating-a-younger-man-the-laws-of-opposite-attract-4-read-online-vi-keeland-penelope-ward Sat, 05 Oct 2024 02:32:33 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-rules-of-dating-a-younger-man-the-laws-of-opposite-attract-4-read-online-vi-keeland-penelope-ward Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult Authors: Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland Series: Penelope Ward
Series: The Laws of Opposite Attract Series by Vi Keeland
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >101

I was the last of my group of friends to find “the one.”
The guys would always tease me that I needed to hurry up and settle down.
But I was in no rush.
Until I met someone worth rushing for.
Alex was one of the weekend volunteers at Ryan’s House—a charity I founded to build housing near hospitals.
Little did I know she was the same person I’d been arguing with over email before the project started. At the time, I’d thought Alex was a dude.
In reality? She was a smoking hot blonde who captivated me from the moment we met in person.
Our chemistry was off the charts, and I fell hard pretty fast.
Unfortunately, Alex insisted I was too young for her. I hated that she felt that way. Because age was just a number.
Not only that, her words didn’t match the way she looked at me—like she was very interested.
I lived for the weekends we’d spend out of town volunteering. Alex and I side-by-side hammering during the day, while sharing intimate dinners together at the hotel at night.
Eventually, the walls she’d put up to protect her heart began to crumble.
Until fate threw us a doozy that I wasn’t sure we could come back from.
If I’d thought our age gap was the biggest hurdle, I didn’t know anything yet.
Rule number one for dating an older woman who insists you could never be together?
Don’t fall in love.

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

CHAPTER 1

Brayden

I looked down at my cell and shook my head.

“Why the long face?” My buddy Colby walked back into the kitchen and tossed me the keys to his car. “I didn’t think single guys with no kids and fat bank accounts had anything to stress over.”

I caught the keys. “Bite me.”

He chuckled. “No, really. Is everything alright? You were grumbling at your phone the other day when I walked into the elevator, too.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Except one of the volunteers on the renovations team for the new Ryan’s House project is driving me nuts. You know how we pick two team leaders to help coordinate things on each job?”

Colby nodded. “One for the mechanics—electrical, plumbing, heating, and stuff, and one for interior design—paint, flooring, fixtures, and appliances, right?”

“Exactly. This dude Alex is the design team leader. He’s driving me nuts with his suggestions. He questions every fixture, appliance, and molding I’ve picked out. Today he wants to change the living room paint color by a shade—a freaking shade. I couldn’t even see the difference between the two paint samples online. Now he just asked if we could meet for dinner tonight to go over a few last-minute changes he’d like to make.” I shook my head. “No way am I doing that. It’s a good thing you clowns are coming up this weekend to help out, because I have a feeling this guy’s going to test my limits.”

Colby made a pouty face. “Awww... Brayden has trouble working with others.”

I shook my head, but smiled. “I don’t know why I tell you shit.”

“Probably because no one else wants to listen to you.”

“Ouch.”

He laughed. “What time you getting on the road today?”

“Probably about two. I need to stop by the office and pick up a project I’ve been working on for a kid. He’s in the hospital upstate again, so I’m going to drop by to visit over the weekend and surprise him with it.”

“What did you make this time?”

I grinned. “You know I don’t give hints about my masterpieces before the unveiling. I told his family I’d come by Sunday. If you knuckleheads are still around, you should join me.”

“Sounds good.”

I held up Colby’s car keys. “Thanks again for the car swap. Mine is too small to fit baseboard heating covers.”

“Anytime you want to swap my ten-year-old, beat-up SUV for your hot little six-month-old Porsche, I’m in.” He grinned. “I’m going to have a good-ass time driving that thing upstate Saturday morning.”

I opened the door. “Don’t get arrested for going a hundred and twenty.”

***

Later that night, I checked into the hotel up in Seneca Falls and decided to go down to the lobby bar for a drink. It was empty, except for a woman sitting alone. She had a drink in front of her, and a full glass of wine sat at the empty stool beside her, so I assumed she must be here with someone. I took a seat along the short side of the bar to give them some privacy.

But damn... Sitting here gave me an even better view of the woman, and she was a total knockout—sandy blond hair, big blue eyes, and high cheekbones that led down to a full set of lips. She might’ve been a few years older than me, but that didn’t stop a rush of adrenaline from giving my body a good jolt.

The bartender walked over and dropped a napkin in front of me. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a whiskey sour. Any chance you have Russell’s Reserve Ten-Year bourbon to make it with?”

The bartender’s brows pulled together, and he thumbed to the woman sitting alone. “You with her?”

“No, why?”

He shrugged. “She just ordered the same drink. That brand of bourbon and all.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

I glanced over again and lowered my voice. “She alone?”

“Is now. Some guy sidled up to her when she came in a few minutes ago, but he left pretty quickly with his tail between his legs.”

Alrighty then. “Any chance you guys serve food here?”

“Sure do. I’ll grab you a menu.”

Even though I now knew she was alone, I wasn’t too enthused about striking up a conversation with the pretty blonde. Not after she’d just chased another guy away. But when the bartender brought my drink and she looked over, I raised my glass.

“Apparently we ordered the same drink.”

“Whiskey sour?” she asked.

“With Russell’s Reserve Ten-Year.”

She smiled and held up her glass. “To good taste.”

I tipped my glass to her. A minute later, my phone buzzed with a call from Colby. I swiped to answer. “I hope you’re not calling to tell me you dented my car already.”

“No, but how the hell do you put the top back up?”

“You know the button you pushed to drop it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the same button to put it back up. You just need to hold it for ten seconds.”

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Advertisement The Unraveling Read Online Vi Keeland http://www.books2020.com/the-unraveling-read-online-vi-keeland Wed, 07 Aug 2024 09:51:00 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-unraveling-read-online-vi-keeland Genre: Alpha Male, Suspense, Thriller Authors: Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >95

This chilling, sizzling, and addictive thriller from #1 New York Times bestselling author Vi Keeland follows a New York psychiatrist’s dark descent into dangerous obsession.

This isn’t a love story.

It’s a story about obsession.

After experiencing a terrible loss, New York City psychiatrist Meredith McCall feels painfully adrift. When she crosses paths with a man with whom she has a tragic connection, she follows him, sparking an unhealthy obsession with Gabriel Wright. How is he doing so well while her life is in shambles?

But when Gabriel walks into her office as a patient, seemingly unaware of who she is, she knows it crosses all ethical and moral bounds to treat him. Yet, Meredith can’t bring herself to turn him away and becomes further entangled. With her life and career continuing to unravel, it appears that things could not get any worse…until they do.

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

CHAPTER 1 Now

We used to look at each other like that. Before you went and messed everything up.

The man wraps a scarf around the smiling woman’s neck, then leans in and kisses the tip of her nose. I force my eyes from the store window and keep walking. Maybe another mile will do it—will clear my head so I can think properly. Figure out what to do with the rest of my day. The rest of my life.

Another block, then two. I stop behind a dozen people at the crosswalk. A woman checks the time on her phone, a child sways under the weight of his backpack full of books, a businessman in a five-thousand-dollar suit spews into his phone about some deal gone bad.

He’s angry. Probably needs therapy. Most of us do. Myself included.

Myself especially.

A teenage girl smokes a joint as she bops along to the buds in her ears. A twentysomething wearing baggy jeans and a T-shirt pretends he’s not freezing his ass off.

One thing stands out that makes them different from me—they all seem to have somewhere to go.

Then again, I probably look like I do, too. I’m good at pretending these days, aren’t I?

But soon they’ll be home with their families or their dog or their video game, and I’ll still be out here walking. Searching for something, though I don’t know what. I still have my wits enough to know that means I might never find it.

Maybe I should get a dog. That would at least give me a purpose for all this walking. Of course, I’d have to feed it. Drag myself out of bed early every morning to take it outside so it doesn’t ruin the carpets. Give it love and affection.

I swallow a lump in my throat. I’m not capable of committing to any of those things. Especially the last one.

The light changes, the wave of people surges forward, and I let it carry me across the street. I turn a corner at random, and seconds later I’m among brownstones. I slow my pace, and another walker brushes against me, hurrying. Another person with a place to be.

A breeze ruffles through the leaves, and the yellow and orange colors of a ginkgo tree rain down around me. We almost lived here in Gramercy Park, in one of these very brownstones. With a foyer painted in sky blue and an office window facing the city. If we’d chosen this home, instead of the apartment, would things have been different? Would that one choice have made ripples through our lives, and you’d be standing next to me right now?

I let myself imagine it. It’s the sort of neighborhood where people raise families. Maybe we’d have a baby by now. Maybe I’d have taken a year off. Maybe I’d have paid more attention and noticed how bad things with you really were. If you were still here, you’d probably be on the road right now—off playing a game in Michigan or Canada. My practice would be thriving, instead of crumbling. Maybe we’d have hired an au pair. Maybe… just maybe.

That breeze comes again, slicing through my open overcoat. I yank it closed, tie the belt tighter. I’ve been out for hours, and I should go home. But why?

Tree branches sway, and a fresh tide of leaves skims over my shoes. A rogue yellow one blows up and tangles into my hair. I reach up to pull it out and a cab rushes by mere inches away, creating wind that slaps me in the face. Shoot. I didn’t even see that red light. I step backward to the curb and bump into a person behind me, nearly falling.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?”

A twentysomething in a Burberry trench, a two-year-old on her hip in a matching jacket and pigtails, and another little one tucked into a vintage pram sucking her thumb.

A ripple, a glimpse of what could have been. What will never be anymore because of you.

I reach into my coat pocket and rub my keychain. Your keychain. The one that reminds me of all our hopes and dreams. It soothes me. As much as I can be soothed these days.

“Ma’am?” The woman I already forgot about steps closer. “Are you all right?”

I look away, her little family too close to my imaginings for comfort. “Fine. Thanks.”

I go back the way I came, walking faster now. Fleeing. Fleeing what? It doesn’t matter. I stare down at the gray concrete, then up at the gray sky. A shop window reflects back at me—a pale, narrow face, too much cheekbone, too much chin. Hollow eyes, once bright green, have gone dull. They look gray, too. I should get highlights, perk up my dishwater-blond hair.

A bell jangles over the next shop door, pulling my attention. A young couple sits in the window, all sheepish smiles and hands wrapped around paper coffee cups. I duck in, file into line, lost in the anonymity of the city once more.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >95

Advertisement Something Borrowed Something You Read Online Vi Keeland http://www.books2020.com/something-borrowed-something-you-read-online-vi-keeland Mon, 20 May 2024 22:10:39 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/something-borrowed-something-you-read-online-vi-keeland Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Authors: Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >102

No Strings Attached meets Me Before You in SOMETHING BORROWED, SOMETHING YOU, a slow-burn, swooning romance from #1 New York Times bestseller Vi Keeland.My relationship with Hunter Delucia started backwards.We met at a wedding—him sitting on the groom’s side, me sitting on the bride’s. Stealing glances at each other throughout the night, there was no denying an intense, mutual attraction.He suggested we explore the chemistry sparking between us. His blunt, dirty mouth should’ve turned me off. But for some crazy reason, it had the opposite effect on me.We ended up back in my hotel room. The next morning, I flew home leaving him behind in California with the wrong number.I thought about him often, but after my last relationship, I’d sworn off of charming, cocky, gorgeous-as-sin men. A year later, Hunter and I met again. Our attraction hadn't dulled one bit. This time, he demanded a real phone number. So I left him with my mother’s. She could scare away any man with her talks of babies and marriageBut the following week he rang the bell at Mom’s house for Sunday night dinner. The crazy, gorgeous man had won over my mother and taken an eight-week assignment in my city. He proposed we spend that time screwing each other out of our systems.Eight weeks of mind-blowing sex with no strings attached?It was just sex, not love.But you know what they say about the best laid plans…Formerly published in a different form under the title Sex, Not Love in 2017.At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

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

Chapter 1

— Natalia —

“Do you think there’s any correlation between intelligence and being good in bed?”

I inhaled from the tiny remnant of rolled-up paper and held it in my lungs as I passed the joint to my best friend. At least this round I didn’t choke and cough for five minutes. Neither of us had smoked pot in ten years, not since high school. It seemed fitting to mark the official end of our childhood by lighting up what Anna had confiscated from her sixteen-year-old brother yesterday.

“I’m about to marry a man who creates robots that can learn how to think. Of course I’m going to say smart guys are better in bed. I mean, Derek can solve a Rubik’s Cube in less than thirty seconds. A vagina is a lot less complicated.”

“His friend Adam’s sweet. But he spent the last hour talking to me about some algorithm he’s building for an artificial intelligence robot named Lindsey. My only contribution to the conversation was alternating between wow and that’s fascinating. Can you tell Derek he needs to find stupider friends?”

Anna inhaled and spoke while trying not to exhale, causing her voice to rise two octaves. “He went to MIT and works at a tech firm—not much of a pool of stupid people to pick from.” She bumped her shoulder with mine. “That’s why I need you to move out here. I can’t handle being surrounded by smart people all the time.”

“Very nice.” I sighed. “At least Adam is sort of cute.”

“So, I take it you’ll be breaking your dry spell tonight?”

“Maybe tomorrow night after the wedding.” I smirked. “If he’s lucky. I’m still on New York time. Tonight I’ll be ready to go to bed alone by the time they serve dessert.”

The bride-to-be and I were hiding from the rest of the rehearsal dinner guests behind an ivy-covered lattice arch in the courtyard of the restaurant. A deep, throaty voice scared the heck out of me, and I almost knocked the damn thing over.

“He’d be the lucky one, huh? Do you look as good from the front as you do the back, or are you just full of yourself?”

“Who the hell…?” I turned to find a man walking toward us in the dark. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business?”

The guy took a few more strides and stepped into the overhead spotlight Anna and I had attempted to avoid. My eyes nearly bulged from my head. He was gorgeous. Tall, damn tall—I was five foot four and had on five-inch heels and still had to crane my neck to look up at him. He had dark, sexy hair that looked like it could use a haircut but totally worked for him. Tanned skin, carved square jaw, a five o’clock shadow that probably grew back in two hours from all the testosterone this guy exuded. His eyes were a light blue that popped out from his dark complexion, and tiny crow’s feet flawed the skin around his eyes in a way that made me think he smiled often. And that smile. It wasn’t really a full smile—more of a crooked, cat-that-swallowed-the-canary smirk.

The entire package of man was a lot to take in at once. But while I stood there speechless, Anna threw her arms around his neck.

I hoped she knew him and wasn’t just more wasted than I thought.

“Hunter! You made it.”

Whew.

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t miss my best buddy tying the knot with his girl. Sorry I’m so late. I was up in Sacramento on business and had to rent a car and drive back when they canceled my flight this afternoon.”

The gorgeous eavesdropper turned his attention to me. Starting at my feet, he did a slow, incredibly rude, yet seductive sweep over my body. My nipples hardened while I watched his afternoon-blue-sky eyes darken to hazy sunset as they traveled all over me.

When he was done, our gazes met. “Yep, you do.”

Huh?

Reading the confused look on my face, Hunter clued me in. “You look as good from the front as you do from the back. You’re right. Whoever you’re planning on sleeping with is damn lucky.”

My mouth hung open. I couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy … yet my skin was beginning to tingle.

“Adam,” Anna offered. “He’s her partner in the wedding. She’s going to sleep with Adam tomorrow night.”

Hunter extended his hand to me with a nod. “Hunter Delucia. Got a name, beautiful? Or should I just call you the Adam-fucker?”

For some inexplicable reason, I knew in the pit of my stomach that putting my hand in his was a bad idea. My body and his should never touch, not even once. Yet I did it anyway.

“Nat Rossi,” I said, giving him my hand.

“Nat? Is that short for something?”

“Natalia. But no one calls me that.”

He smiled again. “Very nice to meet you, Natalia.”

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >102

Advertisement What Happens at the Lake Read Online Vi Keeland http://www.books2020.com/what-happens-at-the-lake-read-online-vi-keeland Sun, 21 Jan 2024 18:56:07 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/what-happens-at-the-lake-read-online-vi-keeland Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary Authors: Vi Keeland Advertisement

Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >103

When life took an unexpected turn, I decided to get out of New York for a while. What better place to go than the idyllic small town my father spoke about so fondly when I was growing up? Laurel Lake held the title America’s Friendliest Town for seventeen years running, and friendly was just what I needed right now.

Unfortunately, friendly wasn’t the welcome I got when I arrived.

Instead, I got Fox Cassidy. My tall, dark, and burly neighbor, who grunted at me instead of saying hello.

Okay, so I might’ve had his mailbox in my hands the first time we met. And it might’ve been a little crushed after removing it from under my tire. And I might’ve needed his help breaking into the place I was staying in after the key broke off in the lock. But still…he didn’t have to be so grumpy.

As time went on though, I started to notice things about Fox other than his glares. Like how he watched me when he thought I wasn’t looking, or how fire ignited in his eyes whenever we bickered. Though I was in Laurel Lake to escape my problems, not create new ones. And getting involved with a man like Fox screamed trouble, even if he was gorgeous and unlike any man I’d ever met.

But alas, problem seemed to be my middle name this year. So why not have some fun while I was here for the summer? It seemed like a good plan. At least until it was time to go home…

They say what happens at the lake, stays at the lake. But it’s not so easy to walk away when what stays behind…is your heart.

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

CHAPTER 1

* * *

Meet Paul Bunyan

Josie

Oh shit.

I shifted my rental car into park and got out to walk around to the back of the Ford Explorer. Frowning at the small dent on the bumper, I was at least glad the pushy agent had talked me into getting the extra insurance. Why was there a random pole sticking up here anyway? I sighed.

Whatever. I’d deal with it all tomorrow. It had been a long-enough day already. What should’ve been an eleven-hour drive here from New York City had taken fifteen because of a flat tire and standstill traffic in a few states, all while managing constant texts and calls from my ex, Noah. I turned to get back in the car, but stopped when I noticed something red sticking out from under the rear tire.

Was that…a mailbox?

Shoot. Guess this wasn’t a random pole after all. I looked up at the house it belonged to and debated not knocking until tomorrow. But I was going to be here a while and didn’t want to start out on the wrong foot with the neighbor. So I pulled the crushed metal box out from under the car, carried it up the driveway, and knocked on the front door.

When the door opened, I momentarily forgot why I was standing there.

Wow. Hot wasn’t a strong-enough word. Green eyes with a hint of gray, square jaw with just the right amount of scruff, and a perfectly straight blade of a nose. Not to mention, he was super tall. Six three? Six four? His broad shoulders filled the entire doorway. He might’ve been the largest man I’d ever been this close to. I briefly wondered if he could buy shirts in a regular store. Noah wore an extra-large, and this man looked like he could squash my ex like a bug. That thought made me smile.

It did not, however, make Paul Bunyan smile. He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at the pummeled mailbox in my hands. “Something you want to tell me?” He lifted one brow.

“Ummm…” I held the box up. Why? I have no damn idea. But I felt the need to do something with my arms. “I think I hit your mailbox.”

“You think?”

“No, no…” I nodded. “I definitely hit it. I meant I wasn’t positive if it was yours.”

“Where was the mailbox when you hit it?”

I turned and pointed to the grassy area at the end of the driveway, the same driveway I’d just walked up in order to get to the door. The lonely pole remained. “It was over there.”

“And yet you’re confused which house it belonged to?”

“I, uh…” Oh, this guy was a jerk. He didn’t have to mock me. Things happen. Like car accidents. It wasn’t like it was that big of a deal. I’d replace it. “Yes, I hit your mailbox. I apologize. It’s been a long day, and I’m not such a great driver, and it’s dark out. I was trying to back into my driveway, and well…driving backward isn’t as easy as forward.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Your driveway?”

I pointed to the house to the right. “That one.”

He stole a glance. “You’re staying in that run-down shack?”

“Run-down?” I looked next door, but unlike this house, the porch light wasn’t on, so I couldn’t see too well. “The real estate agent said it needs some sprucing up.”

The guy’s lip curled. “Whatever you say…”

Great. Can’t wait to see what the place looks like now. I shook my head. “Anyway, I’ll replace your mailbox. Did you get it around here?”

He lifted his chin. “At Clifton’s, the lumberyard down the road.”

“I’ll get a replacement first thing in the morning. Do you mind if I keep it until then, so I can make sure I get the right one?”

Paul Bunyan shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

“Alright, well…” I lifted a hand and waved awkwardly. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

I walked down the driveway, feeling his eyes on me, but I refused to turn back. Though once I got to my car, which still needed to be backed into the driveway next door, I had to face the house again, so I peeked up at the door. Sure enough, the grumpy giant remained standing there, watching. I waved awkwardly a second time, then slipped into the car and set the mangled mailbox on the passenger seat.

I glanced up at the house yet again after starting the engine. Yup. Still watching.

Great. He was probably waiting to be amused as I attempted to back into the driveway, since I’d confessed I wasn’t the greatest driver. I didn’t need that kind of pressure, so I decided to pull forward, turn around, and park head first. I’d just have to carry my bags a little farther. Except…now I was flustered. Between hitting the mailbox and this guy watching me, I accidentally put the car in reverse instead of drive and promptly hit the mailbox pole again. This time, I knocked it over.

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