Doin’ A Dime (Souls Chapel Revenants MC #4) Read Online Lani Lynn Vale

Categories Genre: Biker, Contemporary, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Souls Chapel Revenants MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Doin' A Dime (Souls Chapel Revenants MC #4)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Lani Lynn Vale

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B08FHGJF91
Book Information:

Live-in property & pet caretaker needed. Six-year minimum. Background check required. Generous compensation. Marriage of convenience required.
The moment that Wyett Villin read the ad on her local community’s page, she knew that it would be perfect. It didn’t matter how big the house was, what kinds of animals she had to take care of, or what the compensation was. She didn’t give a flip as long as it got her out of her childhood home and away from the person that she despised the most.
Only, she had no clue that by accepting the position, she would be agreeing to watch over the mini-mansion and two large dogs of Hunt McJimpsey, computer hacker extraordinaire, sexy nerd, and convicted felon of Souls Chapel, Texas.
She’d meant to make her life easier, not complicate it more.
***
Hunt McJimpsey was careful. He knew exactly what he was doing and practically planned every single step that he took to make sure that he always had his tracks covered.
But one single mistake costs him five years of his life, and if he’s going to go down for the crime, he might as well make it spectacular.
Three years into his prison sentence, he’s a changed man, and definitely not for the better.
He’s harder, angrier, and even more brilliant and conniving than before he went in.
He thinks that by keeping up with his dogs’ babysitter, his property caretaker, and reluctant wife, that he’s only doing his due diligence as a responsible person. Only, what starts out as curiosity for his property turns into genuine like for the woman that is caring for what means the most to him.
When an opportunity to get out of the hellhole known as prison arises and the only thing he has to do is join a motorcycle club and sign some of his free time away to help those less fortunate, he jumps at the chance.
Not only because he’s ready to get the hell out of prison, but because he’s ready to meet the woman that he’s been falling for, one visit a week, for the last three years.
Books in Series:

Souls Chapel Revenants MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale

Books by Author:

Lani Lynn Vale



PROLOGUE

Hackers gonna hack.

-Coffee cup

HUNT

Four years ago

“Oh, sorry.”

I blinked, surprised to find myself staring into dark brown eyes.

“No problem,” I murmured, my day all but forgotten as I looked down into her eyes. My gaze traveled over her face.

She had really long eyelashes. Like, so long that I wondered if they were fake.

If I reached forward and grabbed them, would they come off in my hand?

I couldn’t stop myself from asking.

“Are your eyelashes real?” I blurted.

Most people would be turned off immediately by my bluntness.

I’d found, over time, that my blatant disregard for propriety didn’t endear me to many people, especially women that were asked about whether their eyelashes were fake or not.

“Yeah,” she said. “They are. Why? Do they not look real?”

“They’re so long that they kind of make me think that they’re not. Can I pull them?” I found myself asking.

So I didn’t interact with people all that much.

I thrived behind a computer. When I was out in public, among the human population, I found myself being awkward, annoying, and overbearing.

People did not like me in real life.

Something in which I had been told multiple times today.

“Sure.” She grinned. “Go ahead.”

When I reached forward and did just that, I think she was surprised.

Did she think that I was kidding?

But the only thing to come off when I reached for her eyelashes was a bit of mascara and one tiny hair.

I looked down at it on my calloused finger, made a wish, and blew it off.

When I opened my eyes again, she was walking away, sipping her coffee as she did.

My eyes took in the rest of her as she swayed her hips to and fro.

She was short. Well, not really short. More of a regular-sized woman, if I had to admit. But she was short compared to my six-foot-four.

She looked over her shoulder, and the movement caused her highlighted brown hair to slip over her shoulder and fall in a wave down her back. It almost reached mid-shoulder. Not super long, but not short, either.

She grinned at me, and I was struck again by her eyes.

Her eyes were the most gorgeous shade of brown I’d ever seen—like my favorite type of chocolate—and they were covered by the longest eyelashes that I’d ever had the chance to pull.

Weird.

I was so weird.

Normal people didn’t have these thoughts, right?

I grinned at her, and she grinned back.

She didn’t realize it, but she was about to be seeing me again.

I immediately went home, hacked into the public library, and then went even further to not only find the computer she was working on, but her name, date of birth, and any and all relevant information that would be needed for what I had in mind.

I was deep in the middle of looking into her when my phone rang.

I absently reached for it and picked it up, placing it against my ear.

“Hello?” I mumbled distractedly.

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me the moment that you got out of that courtroom,” my mother groaned. “Well, what happened?”

“I was given a plea deal,” I answered. “Ten years in prison with the possibility of parole at four.”

Her gasp made me roll my eyes.

“You have to go to prison, and you didn’t think that was information that I needed to hear?” she shrieked.

Okay, so I might should have called her.

But what difference did it make if she knew or not?

I would still have to go!

“I thought I’d tell you over dinner before I had to leave,” I admitted.

The less time that I had to deal with my family, the better.

They were all overprotective assholes who thought they knew better than me.

And honestly, maybe that was the case. Maybe they did know better than I did.

I didn’t know.

But I was allowed to make my own damn mistakes.

Which, apparently, they didn’t understand.

Would never understand.

“You thought you’d tell me over dinner…” She started saying something more, but I’d gotten into the good stuff about the girl. “Was this on the night that you were supposed to turn yourself into jail?”

I blinked, pulling myself out of the girl’s life long enough to respond to my mother’s question.

“Yes,” I said. “I go six months from now. That was the stipulation that I made with the prosecutor and the district attorney that I met with today. That I have enough time to get my affairs in order.”

She started talking some more about how unfair it was—it was—and I went back to looking into the girl.

I liked what I saw.

She wasn’t behind on her bills. She was up to date on her shots. She volunteered at an animal shelter. She went to school full-time and was always home according to her security camera feeds.

She did have a problem with her aunt, though. That I could tell very easily as I looked through her financials.

Twice a month, her aunt wired very large lump sums—fifty grand a pop—into two separate accounts. One that was in town and on the up and up, and another that was off shore, protected.


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