Best Match (Arizona Rattlesnakes #3) Read Online Pippa Green

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Arizona Rattlesnakes Series by Pippa Green

Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)


From the outside looking in, my life is perfect. I’ve made it all the way from Sweden to the USA to be a star player for the Arizona Rattlesnakes NHL team and we’re having our best season ever. The problem is… I can’t take the heat. Literally. I need to get out of the desert as fast as possible.

I have a plan and it’s simple: remain detached from my life, as Tucson is just a pit stop, and when we win the Cup, I’ll get myself traded to any other team in a colder climate. My teammates think I’m a grumpy bastard but that’s just my way of keeping them at arm’s length, so I don’t miss them too much when I bolt.
I’ve hit another snag in the form of my new next-door neighbor. Elizabeth’s a ray of jävla/sunshine—and we know how I feel about the sun—and she can’t seem to take the hint that I want her gone. My stand-offish nature doesn’t seem to stop her from baking me muffins, doing my yard work, and generally driving me insane with her curves as she prances around in yoga outfits and lounges in her bikini by the pool.
I need to resist, but every minute I spend with Elizabeth and her three-legged dog makes it harder and harder to remember why I can’t just let myself go and enjoy her warmth. She may be the best thing that’s ever happened to a grumpy bastard like me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let the sexy, taco-loving temptress lure me into staying in Helvete, or Hell.
If I stick to my plan I’ll be happy…right? But what if I’m wrong?

*Best Match is the third book in the new Arizona Rattlesnakes series, a spinoff from Pippa Green’s successful Minnesota Raiders series. It can be enjoyed as a standalone novel.

Full Book:



In my free time, I’d compiled a list of things I loved about Arizona: playing hockey in the NHL for the Arizona Rattlesnakes…and some of my teammates.

That was it.

The whole damn list.

Not even a few things put on there and then scratched off once I learned more about the area. I’d come to the Southwest by mistake and stayed there because…well, I didn’t know how it happened, only that it did, and now I was stuck.

When I first came to America to play hockey, I’d pictured myself in Boston, Chicago, or Minnesota. Hell, even Oregon would be better than the goddamn desert. Someplace with snow and ice, like my native Sweden. Or at least a place where the temperature drops below “scorching” during the winter.

I’d never pictured myself living in the middle of the desert with nothing around but sand and cacti in every direction. Never saw myself where the heat of the sidewalk in the summer is enough to melt the rubber from the soles of your sneakers and sane people sequester themselves indoors with the air conditioning blasting. Forget about outdoor activities. Once spring hits, you’re stuck inside until fall, if you’re lucky.

I hated the heat and everything that went along with it.

Standing in my living room in the apartment complex affectionately dubbed The Nest because so many of the single guys on the Rattlesnakes chose to live there, I watched the heat haze dance and sparkle above the asphalt of the parking lot.

Once I signed on to the Snakes a few years ago, I’d done some research.

Do you know how many days a year it was sunny in Tucson? Because I did: three hundred and sixty fucking five. Every single one of them.

I growled at the mirages in the distance, as if it was somehow their fault I’d become trapped in this place, in this apartment. All the sunshine and warmth drove me absolutely fucking crazy, and even after my years of living here, I hadn’t adjusted. Not well, anyway. All the guys on the team said so, and they wondered out loud and often about my constant goddamn bad mood.

They needed to look outside, and they’d see why.

Then there were men like Rico Gonzalez, our left defenseman, who was practically reptilian. He sat outside in the blazing sun because he wanted to. Poor Bates Gustafsson was just left to suffer, alone, and there were some days like last week where I’d gone by myself and sat in the bleachers of the Rattlesnake stadium to read a book, front row right by the ice, for some blessed relief.

I lived in Helvete—Hell.

I shot one final scowl at the dry desert air and the perfect day before turning away from the window to get more ice for my coffee. Yep, it was so bad I was drinking iced fucking coffee now. My frown sat securely in place and remained there as long as the bright blue sky remained completely cloud-free.

Scoffing, I shifted toward the back window, hoping a change of scenery would do me good. It changed nothing. I really needed to get a higher damn fence put up, too, because I saw right across the lawns to the end of the building, and I hated it.