Riggs (Arizona Vengeance #11) Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Arizona Vengeance Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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Since the last time he kissed me—again—when we came very, very close to crossing a line that most likely would’ve been a horrible decision. I’m glad he didn’t have condoms on him.

Sort of.

Maybe not.

I don’t know, but I do know I’ve never had anyone confuse me as much as Riggs Nadeau does.

Which is why it’s even more confusing that before we departed, I left a note on the kitchen counter for Riggs.

If you change your mind, come join us. The food will be excellent and the company even better.

I didn’t sign my name but left Grandma Katie’s address. I have no hope Riggs will show up because while he might be making efforts to hang out more with his teammates, he has no reason to want to hang out with my family.

He has every reason to avoid me after our last meeting, which has left things awkward.

“How was the rest of your school week?” I ask as I dip my spoon into a bowl of Uncle Abe’s five-alarm chili.

Janelle started at the new fine arts high school on Tuesday. She stayed with me Wednesday night when Riggs was at a game in Vegas, and she practically bubbled over how awesome she thought it was. But I didn’t see her the rest of the week since I started my own classes. It’s been hectic.

“Still going great,” Janelle says after swallowing her bite. She chose to go with my cousin Chappy’s smoked ribs, and she picks one up. “The kids are so much nicer there. Not as stuck-up.”

“I’m so glad.” I study the young woman as she chomps into the rib. There’s a reason she was put into my life, and maybe vice versa, but I’ve so enjoyed getting to know her. She’s added an element of fulfillment I didn’t know I needed.

A wave of fondness hits me extra hard as I remember her stay last Wednesday. While Riggs had told me the barest gist of why she was with him, Janelle told me the rest. Apparently the stepdad who tried to assault her is her mom’s third husband. The first was Riggs’s dad, who lives in Louisiana, the second was her dad, Bruce, who died a few years ago, and now this douche named Shep who assumes by marrying into the family, it means he can have Janelle too.

It haunts me that Janelle’s mom didn’t believe her about what happened. Riggs tried to get her to report it to the police, but Janelle refused, mainly because Shep’s father is a deputy sheriff. She knew it would never go anywhere, and besides, she’d said with a giggle, “He ended up the one physically hurt that night. Not me.”

“I’m glad you could call Riggs,” I had replied. We were cozied in my bed together sharing a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.

“I can always count on him,” she said, and while I know that’s true, I also know their relationship is still a little stilted. I imagine that will get better with time.

I’m hugely curious about Riggs’s background, because while there are eleven years between him and Janelle, there had to have been a time when Riggs was subjected to his mom’s not-so-stellar parenting, as well as from Janelle’s dad, who she said was an alcoholic.

But I didn’t ask Janelle more about it, accepting what she wanted to share. It made me have such empathy for her—as well as Riggs, I suppose—because their family life is so antithetical to mine.

“How’re Chappy’s ribs?” I ask as she chews with a smile. She hums with delight.

I glance around the yard, picking through the hordes of Woodleys, and locate Chappy. I nod his way. “That’s him in the jeans and red-checkered shirt. He went to law school and failed the bar exam four times. While studying to take it for the fifth time, he went in with a buddy and they bought a food truck because he was pretty good at making barbecue. It was an instant success here in Phoenix. The travesty is that he passed the bar on the fifth time but didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore. He’s completely happy running his food truck.”

“That’s a cool story,” she says after taking a sip of lemonade. “Who’s the woman he’s talking to?”

“Another cousin. Elisa.”

“Why is she dressed that way?” Janelle asks.

Elisa is in her typical what I’d call uniform of all black. Lightweight, long-sleeved black turtleneck, black pants that hug her thin body, and black flats. Her hair is in a tight bun.

“She’s a ballerina and always dresses in black. She used to perform for Ballet Arizona and now teaches at one of the largest dance academies here in Phoenix.”

“Man, you have some really interesting people in your family,” Janelle says in awe.

“Just wait until you meet my great-aunt Persephone,” I say with a laugh. Because no one is as interesting as she is.


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