Page 25 of Sprite

“Wait,” Phoenix almost shouted. “Have you been to this bar?” she asked.

“A time or two,” her grandmother admitted. “I know that you think that I’m old and have one foot in the grave, but I still like to have fun, Phoenix,” she said. “After all, I am only fifty-six, dear. And even I like a hot biker once in a while.”

“Eww,” Phoenix groaned into the phone, causing her grandmother to laugh. “I don’t want to hear about you and hot bikers, Grandma.”

“Don’t be such a prude, Phoenix,” her grandmother chastised. “I’ll send my neighbor over as soon as possible. Just sit tight,” she ordered, ending the call. Phoenix sat back and thought about her grandmother with some random biker and shook her head, trying to rid herself of that image. Phoenix didn’t want to hear about any hot men, period. She learned her lesson after getting pregnant with Lydia and if she never laid eyes on another man again, that would be just fine with her.

Riggs

Mrs. Aggie knocked on his door just past midnight and he knew that it couldn’t be good news. She was the sweetest woman, bringing him over dinners and baked goods. He wasn’t quite sure why she did it, but he appreciated the gesture since he could barely heat water.

He’d even seen her around his club, Savage Hell, a few times. She liked to hang out in there when the Royal Bastards were using the bar for the night. They shared the place with their sister club, The Royal Harlots, because their club’s Prez, Savage was just that kind of guy. Mrs. Aggie seemed to like the older bikers who were a part of the Bastards. It always made him blush a little every time she’d find him at the bar and kissed his cheek. She wasn’t that old, although she told him that she had a two-year-old great-granddaughter. He was guessing she was in her mid-fifties and the older bikers at the bar really seemed to like her. He’d even noticed a few mornings that a bike was parked in her driveway, although he never dared ask her what that was about. He didn’t want to know, honestly.

He pulled on a pair of gym shorts he had thrown on the floor, before crawling into bed after a very long day on the road, and ran down the stairs to answer the door. He didn’t want to make her wait too long on his front porch on this chilly night.

“Mrs. Aggie,” he breathed, “everything okay?”

“I wish you’d just call me Aggie, Riggs,” she insisted. “And I could use your help.”

“Then you should come in,” he said, holding the door wide for her. She peeked into his house as if she was trying to decide if she could trust him or not and then smiled up at him as she walked into his house.

“It’s nice in here,” she said, looking around his first floor. “I always had you figured as the bachelor type, but this place looks like it was decorated by a woman.” It had been. After he bought his own place, his sister insisted that he let her decorate the place before he could even move in. Gia painted the place and practically furnished the whole house. She insisted that it was her treat since she had sold her marketing company just five years after starting it. Gia was only thirty, but she was a millionaire a few times over and he was so proud of her, but Riggs hated it when she spent her money on him. He did pretty well for himself, owning his towing company, and he told Gia to keep her money for a rainy day. She would always giggle at him when he’d say that to her and roll her eyes, telling him that she had enough money for a worldwide flood.

“My sister, Gia, decorated this place for me. I’m afraid you are right—my tastes do lean on the side of bachelor pad, and she wouldn’t allow it.” Mrs. Aggie laughed, but he could tell that she was worried about something—probably what she needed his help with.

“So, what can I help you with?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

“Well, you remember when I told you that my granddaughter was moving back in with me for a bit, with her two-year-olddaughter?” she asked. He had never met her granddaughter, but Mrs. Aggie talked about her all the time.

“Sure,” he said, “I remember.”

“Great,” she breathed, “Phoenix ran out of gas and money, and you won’t believe where she’s stranded—Savage Hell,” she said, giving him a little wink. Riggs could feel his cheeks heat from his blush, and she giggled again. “I know that it’s late, but would you be willing to tow her from the bar to a gas station?” She held out a was of cash to him, “This is for her gas and some extra for your time and trouble.”

“No,” he breathed, “I won’t take your money, Mrs. Aggie. I don’t mind towing your granddaughter to a gas station, but I will do it for free. After all, you’ve delivered so many good dinners over here that I probably owe you money.”

“Nonsense,” she insisted, still holding the money out to him. “I make you dinners so that I know that you’re eating properly, Riggs. I insist that you take my money, or you are going to make an old woman very upset.”

He threw his head back and laughed as poor Mrs. Aggie looked him over as though he was crazy. “I’m sorry, but you are no old woman, Mrs. Aggie,” he said.

“Well, I appreciate that you think so, but you get my gist. Take the money, Tommy,” she insisted. He knew that she was not playing around when she used his given name. Only a handful of people knew him as Tommy Cartright and Mrs. Aggie was one of them. When she broke out his real name, he knew not to fool around with her.

“All right,” he said, reluctantly taking the money from her. “I appreciate the business.” That was a total lie. He didn’t need her business. He was running almost twenty-four hours a day and even had to hire four other guys to work with him and Vin at the shop. Having six tow trucks on the road at one time wasexpensive, but they were all still working nonstop which quickly paid for the extra trucks.

“Well, I just appreciate you doing this for me, Riggs. How’s Vindicator doing these days?” she asked about his partner. Vin was one of the Royal Bastards’ SGT at Arms and one of the best guys he knew. He was also old enough to be Riggs’ father and that made him the perfect age for Mrs. Aggie. She liked her men just a little rough around the edges and they usually had full gray beards. Vindicator sure fit that bill.

“He’s good,” Riggs said, not really wanting to get in the middle of whatever might be happening between the two of them.

“Tell him that Aggie says hi when you see him again,” she said, turning to leave. “Thanks again, Riggs.” He watched as she quickly made her way back over to her house, wrapping her robe tightly around her body and all Riggs could do was shake his head at smile at his neighbor. He liked her and going to pick up her granddaughter was a good enough reason for him to lose a little bit of sleep. After all—he owed her for a whole lot more dinners.

He pulled into Savage Hell’s parking lot just past one in the morning and found Mrs. Aggie’s granddaughter sitting in an ancient beat-up pickup truck. The poor woman looked to be sleeping in the front seat, and he assumed the toddler in the back seat of the truck was her daughter. He hated possibly waking both of them, but he’d have to have both of them get out of the truck to hook it up to his tow truck.

Riggs got out of his truck and walked over to hers. It was a wonder that she could sleep through him pulling into theparking lot with his noisy old truck. He had made sure that his employees got the newer trucks. Plus, he loved his old truck. It was faithful and reliable, unlike the women that he usually dated.

He gently knocked on the window on the driver’s side and saw no movement from the woman or kid inside. He looked in and studied them both, making sure that they were still breathing before he banged on the window a little harder. This time, the woman woke up and stared at him as though he had lost his mind.

She rolled down her window just a crack, “Can I help you?” she asked. She looked like a younger version of her grandmother. She had the same green eyes that always seemed to wink at him to make him blush, and the same long, blond hair that Mrs. Aggie had.

“Um,” he started, “your grandmother sent me to tow you to a gas station,” he said. He held up the wad of cash that Mrs. Aggie gave him, “She said to give you this too.” He handed over all the money she insisted that he keep, knowing that she’d be pissed at him come daylight, but he didn’t care. He was serious about not taking Mrs. Aggie’s money. Plus, he thought that the young woman in the truck staring back at him could use the money more than he could.

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