Wanted: Devil Dogs MC Read Online Free PDF Page B

been working a difficult case. As a Homicide Detective, there were quite a few of those, or at least that’s what Isabel had gleaned from the stories her mother told her. There is a layer of dust over everything and Isabel wonders if, perhaps, she should have checked out the garage before offering it to Wesley. The place is like a shrine to her dad; his tools are still strewn haphazardly over the workbench next to what looked like a half-finished wooden bird feeder.
     
    Everything has remained as if her father was going to turn up one sunny afternoon and walk back in, ready to finish the woodwork that had been his hobby since childhood. There’s no way for Isabel not to feel as if she were intruding, as if she doesn’t belong here. It is becoming abundantly clear that her mother hadn’t been able to bring herself to move anything after her father had died. Isabel wonders if, perhaps, she should have followed suit and left this space as her mother had, a memorial to a man she could barely remember instead of handing it over to a man she’s only just met.
     
    “It’s perfect.” Wesley nods in satisfaction, his hands on his hips as he surveys the scene. He looks at her and catches something in her expression that makes his own features soften. “How long since you’ve been in here?”
     
    “About nineteen years.” Isabel doesn’t even pause before replying. She swipes a finger over one of the boxes just inside the doors, watching it leave a trail in the dust behind, like a snowboard track down a snowy mountain.
     
    Wesley nods in understanding. But how could he possibly understand? “How did he die?” There’s no hesitation in the question, no concern at dredging up old emotions or pain.
     
    Isabel has become so used to people pussy-footing around her that it’s refreshing for someone to be so direct. “He was a cop, a detective. He was following up on a lead with his partner, the suspect ran, my dad gave chase. He was quick, a runner. He used to run marathons before I came along. Anyway, the perp got bored of running and decided to shoot his way out. My father took three to the gut. He’d left his vest in the car. It was just a routine visit; he hadn’t expected it to go down that way. His partner heard the shots and called it in, but my dad had lost too much blood. He bled out before the ambulance even arrived.” Her voice is monotonous, robotic almost, just repeating a story she had been told. She shrugs. “I don’t have all the details, just what my mother told me peppered with a few of the newspaper articles I managed to find when I was old enough to search the web.”
     
    “I’m sorry.” The sincerity in Wesley’s voice is surprising, not just because he doesn’t seem to be the most sensitive type, but also because his sympathy doesn’t irritate her like everyone else’s does.
     
    “You seem to be saying that a lot recently.” She smiles at him wryly, wanting to defuse the emotion of the moment. “Do you always apologize this much?”
     
    The corners of his mouth quirk up in answering amusement. He shakes his head. “No, actually my friends would tell you it’s usually pretty much the opposite.”
     
    “Well, I guess it must be my influence on you.” Isabel smiles at him and, in the back of her mind, awareness dawns that she’s flirting with this guy.
     
    “I guess so.” He looks at her appreciatively and Isabel feels something warm inside her. He has a way of looking at her that makes her feel like he sees much more than she’s willing to share with him. He blinks hard, as if he’d just realized what he was doing and he breaks their eye contact. Isabel can’t help but feel like a light has gone out. “I’ll take care of the place. You don’t have to worry. I won’t disturb anything.” He makes a gesture to encompass the boxes and workbench.
     
    Isabel dips her head so he doesn’t see the emotion pass over her features. It’s hard enough trusting this man with a