Doin' a Dime Vale, Lynn (best beach reads of all time txt) 📖

ten minutes later, Wyett finally made her way outside to where I was standing next to my bike, she saw me and gifted me with the biggest smile I’d ever seen grace her face.

Before she could overthink it, she started running toward me.

I caught her in my arms and brought her to my chest.

“Missed you,” I whispered as I pressed my mouth to her temple.

She squeezed me even tighter. “I love you. Thank you for coming.”

I pulled her even tighter. “I love you, too. And even if you would’ve asked me to go, and I would’ve tried to talk you out of it, I’d do it all over again. I’d do anything for you.”

Her face flushed with happiness. “Let’s go home, Hunt McJimpsey.”

I winked at her and caught her hand up with mine. “Yes, ma’am, Wyett McJimpsey.”

• • •

Four months later

“You are found guilty of the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Wyett Villin.” The judge read the results. “You are sentenced to sixty-two years in a federal prison effective immediately. Chance of parole at fifty-one.”

Stella’s face went slack in disgust.

She was not happy to be found guilty of yet another murder. So far, she has accumulated one hundred and seventy-three years in jail and there are two more trials she has to go through.

Wyett’s beaming smile, on the other hand?

That one was brilliant.

EPILOGUE I

Did you know that the flesh inside your cheek is identical to the flesh inside your vagina? And now you’re licking your cheeks.

-Text from Hunt to Wyett

HUNT

“I, Hunt, take you, Wyett, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish as long as we both shall live.”

Wyett’s eyes filled with tears as I recited my vows.

They started to spill over when she recited hers.

“I, Wyett, take you, Hunt, to be my husband.” A tear fell down her rosy cheek. “To have and to hold from this day forward. For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish for as long as we both shall live.”

The preacher, not a judge this time but a real, honest to God preacher, grinned. “The rings?”

I turned and grabbed mine from Sin, who’d been holding it in his hand, then turned back to my wife—soon-to-be wife times two—and reached for her hand.

“With this ring.” I slid the warm metal onto Wyett’s finger. “I thee wed.”

She sniffled hard, as did a few others in the audience.

Wyett turned to grab my ring from Six, who had it stored in between her boobs.

Wyett shook her head and laughed when she turned back to me.

She reached for my hand, and I said, “Wrong hand.”

She snickered and reached for the other hand.

I wiggled the correct finger at her, and she sniffled as another tear fell.

As she slid the ring onto my finger she said, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

Excitement beyond any I’d ever felt before burned through me.

Now, in front of all of my friends and limited family that Wyett and I both wanted there, I’d made her my wife.

For sure.

Lock, stock, and barrel—she was mine.

There was no way she would be able to walk away now.

“What’s that smile for, Hunt McJimpsey?” Wyett asked as we walked down the aisle toward the back of the church.

The same church that, forty years ago, Wyett’s parents had gotten married in.

When I’d surprised her with this wedding—dress, makeup, hair, everything that I could think of to make this day special for her—she’d been happy.

She didn’t realize the significance of this place, though.

Not yet, anyway.

That was what I was taking her to do—realize what was so special about this place—right now.

I thought to do this before our wedding, but then I decided that she’d be a crying mess and that wouldn’t be too good for her wedding photos.

“What’s that look on your face for, Hunt?” she asked curiously. “Are we going to go take photos?”

We were, but we were also doing more than that.

“Yep,” I semi-lied.

She squeezed my hands and then leaned her head on my shoulder as we walked to where I’d set up a place for her to go over the information I’d found for her.

A letter from her father, to be delivered to Wyett on her wedding day.

Something that I’d had to go procure, which had taken a lot more effort than I thought it would, and bring to her.

See, after Stella and her ‘talk,’ I’d decided to look for information on her family.

My hope was to find Wyett some information. To help her understand.

And eventually, six months later, I’d found that for her.

Last night to be exact.

It’d been rather tricky to get Wyett to her friend’s house to start getting her ready for our wedding, only to turn around and drive four hours to get this letter from a post office box.

I was scared as fuck as to what was in it.

Which was why, when I finally handed it to her, I felt bile rise up my throat.

She looked at me worriedly as she took the letter from my hands.

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

I cleared my throat.

“After your meeting with your aunt,” I started. “I began looking into her with a relentless determination, that was why I was so stressed out. I wanted to know why. Why did this all happen the way it happened. And I found out that your father, a couple of months before he transferred the entirety of his fortune into your name, had finally ‘written off’ Stella. He explained to her that he was leaving everything he had to give to you because Stella couldn’t straighten herself out. From what I can tell, Stella got pissed that she had to ‘fall in line’ with her brother’s edicts to get money that should’ve been half hers. Your parents were given custody of Stella when she was seventeen after your grandparents were in a