Bayou Blues Read Online Free PDF

am. It’s only fair I have a name I can call you.”
    “You can call me anything you want to.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Smooth. On average, how many times has a line like that worked for you?”
    “It’s usually fifty-fifty. I’ve never tried it on royalty before. Seemed worth a shot.”
    “Sorry to tell you, but your average is tipping towards failure.”
    His mouth quirked up in a slight smile, and he set about getting the car rigged up to the tow truck. I thought he was going to ignore my question a second time, but just as I was about to push for more information he said, “My name is Wilder. Wilder Shaw.”
    Shaw. I bristled. Now there was a name I definitely knew.
    “You must be related to Hank.” I tried to make it sound casual, but a hint of bitterness snuck into my tone, and there was no getting around it.
    Hank Shaw, one of the longer-standing members in Callum’s pack, was a big reason I still hadn’t brought Cash home to meet the family after a year together. Hank was bigoted in a way that seemed over the top even in the south. He was vocal and obnoxious about his racism, so much so the pack’s sole black member, James Fairfax, had been granted permission to live away from the pack compound.
    Worse still, Hank had actively abandoned the pack once to join a rogue group led by none other than my mother. Ultimately he’d come back with his tail between his legs and begged forgiveness, which Callum had grudgingly offered him. Mercy was, technically, part of the pack, so while Hank had by all accounts defected, the king let it go on a technicality.
    Secret, when she found out, was furious. As it turned out, one of the duties Hank had performed for Mercy was beating the tar out of Secret. It was too late for Callum to go back on his decision though. All he could do was keep Hank on a short leash and hope he was reformed.
    Ben and I had both asked Callum on many different occasions why he didn’t kick Hank out of the pack, but our uncle believed in second chances, and he thought there was hope for Hank yet, in spite of how hateful the man could be. Maybe he was right, but it made things tense around the plantation time and time again. Secret wouldn’t visit if she knew he was there.
    “Yeah, Hank’s my older brother,” Wilder said.
    I tried to take this new information and see him in a different light, hoping it would make Wilder less attractive to me. No such luck. He was still swoonworthy, especially given the way his shoulders and arms flexed while he worked with the hitch.
    “Are you and your brother…um…close?” I couldn’t figure out a better way to ask, Are you also a racist prick who likes to beat up women? Southern girls were raised to not be quite so confrontational in our conversations with handsome strangers.
    Wilder gave a half shrug, not paying much attention to me as he worked. “I know what you’re trying to get at,” he said finally. “I do know what he’s like, and I sure won’t defend his beliefs or the mistakes he’s made. But I also won’t badmouth my kin.” He wiped his hands on his overalls and glanced up at me, the green flecks in his eyes catching in the light, making him seem like more animal than man for a fraction of a second. “He’s good in his own ways, but his badness keeps people from seeing it. I know a different Hank.” The grimace had returned.
    I guess I’d stepped on his toes in spite of all my efforts not to.
    “I was pretty sure I knew all the wolves in Callum’s territory, so why have I never met you?”
    He gave me a look that told me nothing about how he felt. “I was around for awhile. When you were off playing with the frogs and the gators. Came back to make sure Hank doesn’t have too rough a go. He’s been struggling a bit.”
    “Oh.” I wasn’t really sure what else to say, and I didn’t want to ask more about his brother.
    “All right, Princess, I’m almost done here. Why don’t you hop up in the cab?”
    “Genie,” I