Caring for Riggs

By Bonnie Dee

Love dogs and smoking hot men? The Love Off Leash series is for you. Different authors. Unrelated stories. Shared theme of new love and pets.

Love, loss and finding a forever home.
After years abroad, Kyle Skelton returns to Chicago to plan his grandfather’s funeral. Weighed down by guilt about neglecting the prickly old man who once looked after him, Kyle is determined to find a good home for Gramps’s senior dog. The last thing he needs as he confronts his complicated past is the distraction of the handsome next door neighbor who’s been taking care of Riggs.
Darrell Baines is prepared to despise his neighbor’s grandson on sight. He believes this stranger is only interested in valuable things Vince may have left behind. But after witnessing the renewed bond between Kyle and Riggs and learning more about the unhappy teenager who fled Chicago years earlier, Darrell’s hard stance softens. It’s easier to forgive when Kyle is heaping blame on himself.
Darrell is almost too comfortable in his quiet routine, while Kyle has never found a place that felt like home. As these opposites walk their dogs together, unexpected friendship grows. A late night adventure adds passionate fuel to the fire, but Kyle is only passing through so a chance for anything more than a fling seems impossible.
When Kyle’s never-met father arrives for the funeral and Rigg’s health takes a turn for the worse, Kyle’s emotional turmoil reaches critical mass. Will his fragile new bond with Darrell be the powerful lifeline he has always needed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bonnie Dee
• Release date: Aug 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370118304

Bonnie Dee

Whether you're a fan of contemporary, paranormal, or historical romance, you'll find something to enjoy among my books. I'm interested in flawed, often damaged, people who find the fulfillment they seek in one another. To stay informed about new releases, please SIGN UP FOR MY NEWSLETTER. Help an author out by leaving a review and spreading the word about this book among your friends. You can join my street team at FB. Learn more about my backlist at http://bonniedee.com or find me on FB and Twitter @Bonnie_Dee.

Book preview

Caring for Riggs

Caring for Riggs

Bonnie Dee

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2017 by Bonnie Dee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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Chapter One

Naturally, the elevator was out of order.

As Kyle entered the stairwell, he inhaled the stench of garlic, sweat, and age. The climb to his grandfather’s third-floor apartment was as he remembered it, from the worn linoleum-covered steps to the metal rail rubbed shiny from generations of hands to the wavy glass in the windows of each landing. He could be in 1995 again, or even 1925, which was probably when the tenement had been built. Impossible to believe he would knock on Gramps’s door and the old man wouldn’t bellow, Let yourself in.

He died alone, and it’s your fault.

Kyle hefted his backpack to the other shoulder and took a deep breath as he reached the second landing. Not his fault. He’d been traveling and hadn’t known Gramps’s health was failing. No reason to guess that his next visit to Chicago would come far too late. He’d missed the proverbial boat. Gramps’s last ship had sailed. Now there was nothing to do but take care of his grandfather’s meager estate, including finding a home for Riggs, the terrier mix who’d been the old man’s only companion over the years.

Poor Riggs had been alone in the apartment for several days except for a neighbor who’d promised Annaliese he’d walk and feed him. Kyle quickened his pace as he reached the corridor, as if he could make up for lost time and still arrive to save the day.

A few more steps and he reached Gramps’s front door. He was ten again, or thirteen, or fifteen, knocking and waiting for that let yourself in. Riggs would come bounding and barking to welcome him. He’d walk into a haze of cigarette smoke and a maze of piled newspapers and magazines. Gramps wouldn’t rise from his chair by the window, too busy chain-smoking and drinking coffee thick enough to stand a spoon in. He’d jerk his chin, acknowledging Kyle’s arrival. Hey, boy. Listen to this…and he’d read from whatever lay open on his lap. Gramps, that wiry stick of a man whose rare hugs felt like a skeleton’s embrace.

Kyle slipped the key into the lock and turned—no luck. He tried again and realized the door was already unlocked. Another deep breath and a turn of the knob brought him the rest of the way back to his childhood. No Riggs rushed to greet him. The apartment was empty except for the piles of papers and magazines which towered higher than he remembered. He walked through the clutter toward Gramps’s armchair, the one his bony butt had cut grooves into since the Carter administration.

Had he died in the chair or in bed, or perhaps collapsed on the floor in the bathroom? Annaliese hadn’t given details, and Kyle had been too shocked to ask his stepmother. Somehow he’d imagined Gramps could never, would never die. Taking the next plane from Amsterdam, Kyle had come straight from Midway to the apartment. He should text Annaliese to let her know he’d arrived and ask if she and his father would attend the funeral. But he couldn’t bear dealing with that just now.

As Kyle looked around the decaying apartment—although, surprisingly, the kitchen was clean and the refrigerator stocked with healthy foods—his simmering anger boiled up. How could David have allowed Gramps to live this way? Annaliese could’ve arranged a caregiver long distance from California. She handled all the minutia of their lives, everything outside the sphere of her husband’s all-important business life. But it was a waste of energy to hate. David would never change, and once the funeral was over, Kyle never again had to have any contact with the man who’d spawned him but made little other impact on his life.

Kyle set his suitcase in an alcove between stacks of vintage National Geographic magazines. He’d get Riggs from the neighbor’s apartment, which was where the dog must be. Old Riggs would have long since lost the bounce of the stray pup Kyle had begged Gramps to take home from the park. Gramps had been playing dominoes with one of his pals while Kyle threw a parachute man up in the air and tried to catch him before he reached the ground. When a mottled mutt intercepted the toy and ran off with it, Kyle had chased him down. They’d wrestled for possession of the parachute man, and it had been the start of a beautiful friendship. Good old Riggs. How could years have passed with Kyle hardly thinking of him?

The sound of toenails scrabbling on bare floor came from the hallway before the apartment door opened. Two dogs burst into the room, followed by a tall, stoop-shouldered man wearing a Chicago State University hoodie. A tan-and-black Yorkshire terrier raced toward Kyle, took a stance, and barked itself silly at the intruder. Following at a much more sedate pace came Riggs. Kyle dropped to his knees, ignoring the Yorkie and the neighbor, and held out his hands. Remember me? How’ve you been, buddy?

The gray-muzzled dog walked straight into his arms. Kyle scooped him up and hugged him—not too hard since his body felt as delicate as bird bones. Had the neighbor even been feeding him?

Kyle looked up. The CSU alum appeared even taller towering above Kyle. The man must be well over six feet and had the permanent slouch some lanky men adopted, as if stooping to avoid hitting their heads on doorways. His skin was dark cacao and his hair shaved to stubble on his nicely shaped head. A handsome man, except his eyes were glittering bits of jet that glared at Kyle as if he were a criminal he’d caught breaking in.

Kyle gently put down Riggs and stood up. He stuck out his hand. Hi. I’m Kyle, Vince Skelton’s grandson. I think my stepmother told you I’d be coming to take care of Riggs and arrange for Gramps’s funeral.

Mm. The stranger grunted, not sounding at all friendly or neighborly. So, you’re him.

Gramps had talked about him to this man? Thanks for taking care of Riggs, Kyle replied.

No problem. I liked Vince. He was an interesting guy. He continued to eye Kyle suspiciously but finally took his hand in a bone-crushing grip. Darrell Baines. I live next door.

Kyle didn’t wince at the hard grip, but his hand tingled after Darrell let go. Again, thank you for taking care of Riggs. And Gramps too. He nodded toward the kitchen. Did you get him groceries?

He was eating pizza all the time, so I made sure he had a fresh vegetable now and then.

Well, I truly appreciate you looking out for him.

Someone had to. Darrell’s tone was just short of icy.

Clearly, Kyle was in the doghouse for neglecting his grandfather. Fair enough.

A snap of those long fingers summoned the Yorkie from the direction of the kitchen. Come on, Lacey. Quit nosing around Riggs’s dish.

Dark eyes returned to Kyle, measuring him and finding him lacking. He stooped to unhook Riggs’s leash and handed it over. "He’s been out for his afternoon walk. He won’t need to eat again till this evening, but you shouldn’t give him more than a few tablespoons of food. He doesn’t digest well anymore and will vomit if you feed him too much at a time. Also, don’t expect him to