Wanted: Devil Dogs MC Read Online Free PDF

explanation sounds genuine enough. What reason would he have to lie? She frowns, refusing to allow the cautious side of her brain to answer her own question. “There’s a garage out back. It’s not much but it’s all we have.” She doesn’t wait for Wesley to answer before leading the way out through the back porch steps. Instinctively she takes a deep breath in, smelling the flowering wisteria tree her mother had taken care of as if it were a beloved pet. She shivers in spite of herself at the cold air; she was still acclimatizing to the Chicago spring again after the heat of Dallas.
     
    “Here.” Wesley’s voice takes her out of her musings. She turns around and sees he’s shrugged off his leather jacket and is holding it out to her, exposing muscled arms under his t-shirt. “You’re cold.” He pushes the jacket towards her again when she remains staring dumbly at it.
     
    “Thanks, but I’m fine.” She waves his concern away, surprised at the kindness of his offer.
     
    Wesley rolls his eyes at her, making no secret of his frustration. “You’re cold, you’re wet. Take the damn jacket, Isabel.” There’s a commanding note in his voice that makes Isabel think that he’s used to being obeyed without question.
     
    “Keep it. I’m fine.” She gives her head a little haughty shake and carries on down the path to the side of the house. She hears him sigh behind her but he seems to think better of saying anything else.
     
    Get a grip, Bishop. It’s just a jacket. He was just being polite. Her inner voice berates her for her rudeness. She had always been touchy about people doing things for her, especially men. Isabel had been taught by her mother to be self-sufficient, to be able to change a tire, a light bulb, all the things the man of the house would normally do, because there was no man of the house, not anymore. Isabel had learned not to depend on anyone for anything. The only person she had really depended on was her mother. It was a source of contention with pretty much every guy she had dated. They always wanted her to need them and she never had. But that wasn’t what Wesley had done; he’d merely offered her something because he’d thought she needed it, and she’d responded like a bitch.
     
    As they reach the back door of the garage, Isabel stops before she uses the chunk of keys she’s gotten used to carrying around with her, like a jailer, to open the rusty padlock. She takes a deep breath and looks up into his dark chocolate eyes. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
     
    Wesley shrugs noncommittally, his expression taking on the same guarded expression she’d seen from him. “Beautiful, if you want to freeze, it’s no skin off my nose.” He raises an eyebrow at her, giving her that amused look again that infuriates and heats her from the inside at the same time.
     
    She was half hunched over the padlock, her brain still processing that he’d just called her ‘beautiful’. It had been a throwaway comment; rolled off of his tongue like it’s something he says to every girl he meets.
     
    He looks at her expectantly. “So are you going to open that or are you just going to look at it?” He nods towards the lock in her motionless hands.
     
    “Right, sorry.” Isabel blushes again, hating that this man has the ability to make her usually calm exterior wobble. She clears her throat as she pushes open the double doors. “This is it.”
     
    Wesley steps past her, walking into the space as Isabel finds the switch on the wall. A solitary bulb in the center of the room bursts into light, exposing the boxes and workbench that Isabel hasn’t seen in years.
     
    “The front door is street-side. I can give you a key so you can come and go as you please.” Isabel watches as Wesley walks around the space, seeming to take inventory of what he’s seeing.
     
    The garage had always been her father’s space. It was where he would retreat when he had a long day at work or when he’d