12. Beer Theme

Riggs

Riggs was learning that vodka princesses could be shy, were sweet, and definitely funny.

And annoyingly late.

Sure, Nadia had texted to share how sorry she was that she couldn't get there until 5:30.

But she wasn't there at 5:30.

He heard her pull up in her car at 5:45.

And by that time, he and his boy were hungry.

So he wasn't in a great mood when the doorbell rang, and he knew by the look on Ledger's face, his son wasn't either.

Riggs left the brats, which were done, and had been for ten minutes, in the skillet and headed to the door.

He opened it, and he wasn't pissed anymore.

Not even a little.

Because Nadia stood there, her hair done up in a bunch of big curls that looked great, and for the first time that he'd seen, she had makeup on. It was subtle but seriously fucking gorgeous. He could also see the soft green turtleneck coming out of her traditional trench coat that gave her an elegant outdoors vibe he liked too much.

But there was more.

She was holding a cake plate by its stem in her fist, on which were thick layers of some dark chocolate cake that looked moist as fuck, this topped with swirls of creamy frosting.

In her other hand dangled a plastic grocery bag he could tell held a gallon tub of ice cream in it, and outside, a six-pack of bottles of beer.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. I got a wild hair," she said swiftly. "This stout cake is insane. Perfect for après brats. I took a walk around the lake, and you texted me with the time, and I got the idea, but I didn't have the ingredients, so I had to run to town. I also didn't have a springform cake pan, or a cake plate, so it was more running around than I thought it would be. I forgot to factor in cooling time so I could frost it, and as such, it all went haywire."

He felt Ledger behind him, so he took the cake plate from her and handed it off to his boy, who also was no longer pissed, considering he was staring at the cake with big eyes like he wanted to shove his entire face in it (you could say Angelica wasn't a baker, or a cook).

It was no longer raining, but it was still cold, so Riggs then reached out and pulled Nadia in before he took the beer and ice cream from her.

He'd closed the door by the time she launched in again.

"It's incredibly rude to be so late. God, I'm so sorry. But I thought you guys would really like the cake, and once I started, I couldn't stop. And I didn't want to say anything, or it would spoil the surprise."

"Honey?"

She nodded.

"Shut up. I was pissed. I'm not now because I like cake, and Ledge likes it more. So lose the coat and come in so we can eat."

She smiled brightly at him in an easy, open and relaxed way he'd never seen from her, and for a second, he was stunned inert by it.

Her shrugging off her coat and hooking it on the hooks by the door, exposing her sweater was slouchy and bunched at her waist. But on the bottom, she was wearing skinny jeans that did incredible things to an already great ass, showcased her long legs and ended in spike heeled booties that made the crotch of his jeans suddenly uncomfortable, and that didn't help matters.

She didn't seem to notice as she pulled the beer and bag out of his hand and muttered, "I'm gonna get this in the fridge."

She sashayed off, that ass swaying, which made shit even worse.

It took some effort, but Riggs got a handle on it and followed her.

He hit the kitchen as she was asking Ledger, "Did you get to fish today?"

"No. Dad and I kicked back with some beer and binged The Witcher."

Her eyes sped to Riggs.

"Root beer," he amended for his son.

"Ah," she said, turning her gaze to Ledger and giving him a wink.

After she did that, she opened the freezer and shoved the ice cream inside.

Ledger watched her do this while Riggs watched Ledger.

Then his son looked at him and his grin was enormous.

Apparently, it didn't take much with his kid, except a leggy blonde with a great ass and a fantastic head of hair, not that any of that would do much for him. But even at Ledger's age, she wasn't hard to look at. For Ledge, she was also a woman who could bake and brought ice cream along with beer, not to mention, took his dad's back when shit went south without a moment's hesitation.

She turned, clapped her hands together, and said, "What can I do to help?"

"Get yourself a plate since we're ready to roll," Riggs replied, then to his son, he said, "Ledge, show her the way."

Ledger jumped off the stool he'd assumed and rounded the counter to go to the stack of plates Riggs had set out. His boy took one and handed another one to Nadia.

They all loaded up with brats in buns with whatever fixings they wanted, store bought macaroni salad, air fried curly fries, and Ledge and Nadia sat at the bar while Riggs dragged a stool around it to sit in front of them so they weren't in a line, and they could talk while they ate. The lower cupboards were there, so he didn't have anywhere to put his legs. But he had a direct line on watching Nadia, so he had zero fucks to give he had to eat twisted to his food.

Nadia started it by asking Ledger, "So you're a Witcher fan?"

But it was Riggs who answered. "He likes anything with lots of sword fights and gore."

"This is not my preferred viewing fodder," she admitted to Ledger.

"Why am I not surprised?" his boy quipped.

She grinned at him, took a huge bite of brat, then Riggs felt something he'd never felt before when he watched her eyes roll back into her head.

Mouth still full of brat, she asked, "What miracle is this?"

"Slow skillet cooking in ale," he told her.

She munched in between exclaiming, "Oh my God. So good." She swallowed and declared, "Better even than Brenda's taco meat, and that was crazy good. But she refused to tell me her secret."

"She cooks that shit slow too, reducing it in extra water and extra seasoning from a packet," Riggs told her the secret. "Normally, it'd take about ten minutes to brown some meat and add the seasoning. Brenda simmers hers for around forty-five."

"That's it?" Nadia asked.

Riggs shrugged.

"I'm trying that," she declared before another big bite.

"Ask us over when you do," Ledger put in, then took his own bite.

"Will do," she muttered then stated, "Beer theme tonight, brats in ale, stout chocolate cake."

Fuck.

He forgot to offer her a drink.

"You want a beer?" Riggs offered. "Also got some wine if you want me to open a bottle."

"You don't drink wine with brats, Riggs," she chided.

You did not, and he dug it that she knew that.

He smiled at her and hauled his ass to the fridge.

He got her one, him a fresh one, popped the caps and brought them back.

"You walked around the lake today?" Ledger asked her.

"Yes," she answered, sucking back some beer.

"In the rain?" Ledger pushed.

"I have a new slicker I wanted to try out. It's pink," she told him.

"Why am I not surprised about that either?" Ledger asked, grinning at her.

"I'm a girl," she pointed out.

"Yeah, I noticed," Ledge mumbled this to his plate.

Riggs regarded his son closely.

Well, shit.

Was his boy crushing?

He tried to remember when he realized girls were girls and what he felt about that.

And yeah.

It was around that age.

"I learned last night, rain on a roof lulls you to sleep, even if you're wide awake when it starts," she announced, taking Riggs out of his thoughts. "And I learned today that, when it's cold and you take a hike, you don't stop until you're out of the cold. So…look at me. I'm becoming a nature girl."

Not even close.

And he wanted her comfortable in her surroundings, but he still hoped that shit never fully took.

"Good for you, honey," Riggs murmured while smiling at her.

She smiled back, again it was untroubled and cheery, and again he was transfixed by it.

She put her brat down to fork into her macaroni salad when he heard her phone vibrate.

She pulled it out, looked at it, frowned, then shoved it back while he could still hear it vibrating, meaning it wasn't a text, but a call.

"You can deal with it, whatever it is. We don't stand on ceremony at the Riggs house," he told her.

"It's a friend from home. I'll call her tomorrow."

Her phone went again, and the blithe look went out of her face as a worried one set in.

"Take it, Nadia," he urged gently.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered, slid off her seat and pulled her phone out.

She moved down into the living room as she took the call.

"Hey, Maribeth. I'm at my neighbor's for dinner so I'll have to—" She stopped, bent her head, listened, then said, "Listen, I know. I found out?—"

She was interrupted again.

She listened some more, then said, "Maribeth, slow down and let me say something." A pause and then, "I know. Sure, I just found out, but?—"

Another interruption and then she looked their way, gave the one-minute finger and walked out the front door.

Riggs and his son exchanged a glance, then Riggs took another bite, chewed it, swallowed it, decided that was enough time to give her, so he put down his own brat and followed her.

He was through the storm door, eyes on her standing on his front deck, when she turned and slammed right into him.

"Gah! Sorry!" she cried, as he wrapped his fingers around her upper arms to steady her.

It was then he noted she was off her phone.

"Everything okay?"

"That was my friend, Maribeth," she explained. "We've been besties since middle school. And she wasn't buying my fake, having the time of my life in the Pacific Northwest communications. So she looked into things and learned about Ray Andrews and Richard Sandusky."

"Ah," he murmured, thinking that would do it for any friend, best or not.

Having no reason to keep his hands on her anymore, he let her go and took a step away.

"So she's a little freaked, and I've been semi-kinda ghosting her, which made her more freaked."

"That tracks," he noted.

"And, well, she was done with being freaked and about to buy a ticket out here to hunt me down to make sure I was okay. I talked her down from that. Though, she's planning to come out soon."

"That'll be good, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I just…" she let that trail.

"You just what?"

"Well, first, I have some probably punk kids who are playing tricks on me. Second, I live in a famous haunted cabin. But most of all, she didn't want me to come out here because being out here was being out from under her watchful eye. However, I told her I needed space to get my head together about all that went down, and I haven't really set to work on that," she admitted.

"This is your best girl?" he asked.

She nodded.

"So she'll get it, yeah?"

Her white teeth came out to bite the side of her lower lip, and he could feel that bite all over his flesh, so he stopped looking at her mouth and switched to her eyes.

They were so stunning, it wasn't a whole lot safer, but it was safer.

"Yeah," she finally said.

"So, you okay now?"

She nodded.

"Right, then let's go in and finish dinner so we can eat cake."

That made her smile, and it might not have been as carefree as the earlier ones, but it wasn't weighed down like all the ones he'd had before.

So he'd take it.