Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Riggs
Riggs pushed out of Aromacobana with a much-needed paper cup of coffee in his hand and nearly ran into Harry Moran, the county sheriff and one of Riggs’s friends since they were kids.
“Yo, brother, sorry,” he said. “Got a little loose last night, not firing on all cylinders yet.”
Harry’s lips quirked, and he replied, “Not a problem. Been a while. Back from a job?”
Riggs jerked up his chin. “Finished yesterday. Had the boys over, celebrated last night.”
Harry faked looking hurt. “You didn’t call me.”
“Not your scene,” Riggs muttered, wishing it was.
Harry needed to loosen the fuck up, and that wasn’t about his job in law enforcement. It was about him holding onto something Riggs knew it would be tough as hell to let go, but you had to do it to move on and have a life.
His friend was breathing.
But he had no life.
As usual, Harry glossed over that and asked, “You in town for a while?”
Riggs nodded. “’Bout a month.”
“We’ll set something up, go fishing.”
Riggs nodded again.
Harry headed toward the door to the coffeehouse, Riggs got out of his way so he could do it, but as he moved, a thought occurred to him.
So, as Harry opened his mouth to say something to end their brief conversation, Riggs said, “Some chick moved into Weaver Cabin.”
The night before, he’d had his fair share and then some, smoked some weed, got ridden hard, so he came harder, and then he’d been woken up a couple hours after he passed out to a beautiful, but bitchy, woman up in his shit.
He wasn’t as sharp as he normally would be.
Even so, he didn’t miss how Harry’s body jolted, then stiffened, and how his movements seemed wooden when he turned back to Riggs.
“Yeah, I heard,” Harry replied.
Riggs was referring to his friend’s reaction, not his words, when he asked, “She trouble?”
“Not that I know,” Harry answered.
“You had a weird reaction when I mentioned her, man. You know her?”
Harry shook his head and asked, “You meet her?”
“Yeah, twice. The first time, she told me not to run through her yard during my morning runs, and the last time was a coupla hours ago when she got in my face about the party last night. So, warning. She said if it happens again, she’s calling the cops. It’s gonna happen again, and this woman, how she is, I know she’ll call the cops.”
“Your job done, do you have some time to talk right now?”
It was Riggs who stiffened at this invite.
Therefore, he pushed, “I’ll ask again, Harry, is this bitch trouble?”
“You had breakfast?” Harry pushed back.
“No,” Riggs told him.
“On me,” Harry said, then, without Riggs agreeing, he took off toward the Double D diner.
It was Princess Solitary Coffee’s big rack, sweet ass and head of thick, long, blonde hair that made Riggs follow his friend.
Oh yeah.
And those bright-blue eyes.
Fuck him, but all of that was so good, even though she’d demonstrated she could be a serious pain in his ass, he was curious.
They hit the Double D, were seated, and Heidi, the waitress, gave his Aromacobana cup a look, but he ordered another mug because he knew after last night, he was going to need it. He also ordered a full stack of pancakes with a side of bacon, because it was arguable, but he might need that more.
Harry went the granola, fruit and yogurt route.
In normal circumstances, Riggs would give the man shit for his healthy habits.
Not liking Harry’s vibe, he reined it in.
After Heidi wrote down their orders and took off, Riggs dove right in.
“What gives?”
“Gonna ask you to keep it down for a while, Riggs,” Harry said.
Riggs sat back and stretched both arms out to rest them on the booth behind him.
With Harry being good at his job, he didn’t miss the body language.
“I know you don’t like I asked that,” Harry noted.
He was going to say more, but someone called, “Hey, Harry. Hey, Doc.”
Riggs looked over his shoulder to see Declan, a kid he’d known since he was in diapers, which he was now not, being married and all, carrying a big white paper bag toward the door.
“Yo, Deck,” Harry called.
Riggs just lifted his chin.
Declan left.
Riggs looked back to Harry.
“No,” Riggs confirmed, low and slow. “I don’t like you asked that. So now I’d like to know why you’d ask that shit.”
“Normally…damn.” Harry pulled a hand through his hair, looked away, none of this making Riggs feel any better, then he returned to Riggs. “This is not mine to give you, but she’s your neighbor, and, brother, I didn’t know you were back in town, but even so, I knew when I found out you were…” He dragged his hand through his hair again before he finished, “I’ve been wrestling with coming to you or not about this so you could keep an eye on her.”