Gideon's Redemption

by Maddie Taylor

  You were right to end it when you did. It was fun while it lasted. I think it’s best if we have no further contact. Move on, Shannon. I did.

  Her heart ached. She foolishly thought there might have been a chance—slim though it might be—to salvage at least a friendship out of this. With a child together, it would be easier if they could be amicable.

  Folding up the letter, she was about to slide it back in the envelope when she noticed the second piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up, she gasped, shock waves rolling through her as her stomach clenched in pain. A wave of nausea hit, and at the same time tears rolled unimpeded down her cheeks. It was a check for $25,000. He was paying her off. There was only one reason he’d do that. He knew.

  “Did you tell him about the baby?” Her voice was amazingly calm, even flat, which was odd considering how completely devastated she was.

  “Yes. The check was his response.”

  She felt his eyes on her but didn’t meet his gaze. She was barely holding it together. If she saw a mocking or denigrating look on his face, she’d break completely.

  “I’ll need this room in about half an hour. You can use it until then to regain your composure.” She heard the door open behind her and his last dismissive words, “Tough break, kid, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Then he was gone, on to his next filthy rich client, she was sure, one who could afford to pay the fees and be given due consideration. If only a kind word or an iota of compassion for a pregnant woman who was being paid off by her baby’s father.

  Oh, but it wouldn’t due for word to get back to his high profile client that he had paid her any measure of thoughtfulness. She snorted an odd noise, halfway between a derisive laugh and a mournful sob. Ray Reynolds knew where his loyalties lay, on which side his bread was buttered. The side of the illustrious Gideon Eli, lead guitarist for Northern Exposure—a.k.a. lying, cheating bastard and deadbeat dad. He and his slimeball lawyer deserved each other.

  Somehow, Shannon managed to walk calmly and in a respectable manner out the door, down the hall, and into the ladies room. However, she barely made it inside a stall before her stomach rebelled. Retching into a public toilet, her indignity was complete. A man she had trusted and thought she loved had managed to bring about her utter disgrace and humiliation.

  After her stomach had settled, she wet a paper towel and pressed it to her burning face. Looking in the mirror at her flushed and tearstained face, she exhaled a shuddering breath.

  This was it. The chapter of her life starring Gideon Eli had finally ended. What had started as a beautiful romance had turned ugly and painful. She still grieved the loss because she had loved him so much. As she looked at the wadded up check in her hand, that love light extinguished completely. To hurt her was one thing, but to turn his back on her innocent baby was inexcusable. For whatever reason, he’d decided to pay her off rather than confront her or acknowledge his own child. There were no stipulations for the money, just her own words thrown back at her. Move on.

  Chapter Three

  10 years later…

  Sitting on an upside down milk crate, Shannon sighed as she rubbed her aching feet. She had been running non-stop since her shift started at six. Another four hours and she could go home, crawl into her warm bed, and rest her aching bones. Some nights she felt 20 years older than her 33 years.

  The door to the service hall popped open and Jody the bartender poked his head out. “Shannon, break’s over. Anton is seating some VIP’s in your section. Get a move on, girl, these are big tippers.”

  “I’m coming,” she hollered, but the door was already closing behind him as he rushed away. Friday nights at the Bungalow stayed busy. Not the typical bar, it was located in the Miramar Hotel and featured oceanfront patios and sweeping Pacific views. There were cozy little couches and furniture groupings that made it seem homey instead of the usual meat-market bar scene. Customers were usually hotel guests, businessmen needing a quiet place to unwind, and an occasional movie producer wining, dining, and pitching a script to a celebrity.

  Adjusting her short black skirt and tucking in her sleeveless white blouse, she slipped back into her torturous black heels. Why management required heels was beyond her, but 3 inches was the minimum. Although her skirt was revealing at mid-thigh length, at least her blouse covered everything. She’d seen worse uniforms for cocktail waitresses, by far. Smoothing her long brown hair away from her face, she re-tied her ponytail and was ready to get back to work.

  As she returned to the bar, Anton met her with a serious frown on his face, which was not uncommon for the grouchy manager. The only time Shannon had seen him crack a smile in her three years at the Miramar was when he’d tallied up a $1,500 bar tab.

  “It’s about damn time. I took table six’s order already. Jody should have it ready by now.”

  “I was on break, Anton. I haven’t stopped in the four hours I’ve been here. Don’t take Julie quitting out on me.” Adjusting her short apron, Shannon stepped up to the bar and studied the tray of drinks Jody was filling.

  “Just don’t mess up. He is a very important music producer. I’d like for him to come back.”

  Nodding, she dismissed her annoying manager. He was constantly yammering on about one big celebrity or another. Studying the ticket, she made sure she had what she needed and hurried over to the music god’s table.

  As she approached, the sound of a familiar baritone voice caused her skin to erupt in goose flesh. The low tone thrummed across her sensitive nerve endings, playing havoc with her wits and taunting her senses. Although it had been almost ten years, she still recognized those deep, sultry tones. When they’d been together, just the sound of his voice speaking softly in her ear got her off faster than a horny prom date.

  Her eyes flew around the table, freezing on the man who spoke. Wavy brown hair brushed against broad shoulders, his muscles flexing and bulging as his fingers threaded through his already tousled hair. It was a habit of his when he was concentrating. She stared at those large hands with the long tapered fingers—musician’s hands. Although his back was to her, she’d recognize Gideon Elijah McCord’s voice and those talented hands anywhere.

  As she stood there, gaping like a fool, one of the other men nodded at her and commented, “Looks like our waitress is a fan, Gid. Why don’t you charm her with those pearly whites before our ice melts and our drinks are watered down to shit?”

  He twisted then and a pair of unforgettable green eyes looked up at her. “Shannon?” His voice was full of surprise. He stared for a moment, eyes moving over her face, before a small smiled tipped up his full, sensual lips. Lips she had kissed at length and that had pressed and glided along every square inch of her skin.

  Crap! She didn’t have any clue how to handle this situation. Flustered, she decided to think of him only as a customer. Focus on the job, she told herself with little confidence. Her nerves were like the fragile bubbles in the mug of beer she held—ready to burst at any second. “I’m sorry for the delay. Who had the bourbon?”

  As she passed out the drinks, she felt his stunned gaze upon her.

  “Corona?” She didn’t need to ask. It was his drink of choice ten years ago, and as he reached for it, she knew that hadn’t changed. Drinks delivered, she was ready to leave. Maybe she could fake being sick and go home without having to talk to him.

  “How have you been, Shannon?”

  “I’ve been fine,” she answered tersely, then addressed the table, “Can I get you gentlemen anything else?”

  When no one answered, she started to excuse herself, but he wasn’t ready to let her leave.

  “You look great. You haven’t aged a bit in ten years.”

  “I have other tables.” But as she turned to leave, he grabbed her wrist. Frozen, she looked at his long fingers wrapped around her. Her mind flashed back to the many times he had done that in bed. He liked to be in control, often holding her down and frequently tying her up. He was an adventurous love
r and had introduced her to quite a few naughty delights that she never would have dreamed pleasurable. The thought of their lovemaking and the easy playfulness that they’d shared had moisture gathering between her legs and her pussy clenching, seeking to be filled. Moreover, she knew it craved only to be filled by Gideon. Oh my God!

  “Really, Gideon, I have to get back to work.”

  “I want to talk to you, Shannon. Can you meet me after work? What time do you get off?”

  “That’s not possible. Please, let me go. I’ve got other customers.” Looking over, she saw Anton scowling at her. “Gid,” she pleaded softly, “don’t do this. I really need this job.” She felt his grip loosen fractionally, giving her an opportunity to pull away. “I’ll check back in a few minutes.”

  Hurrying away, she went to the bar to collect another order. Trembling, she picked up the tray, but the glasses clanged together and she spilled a too full beer. Setting the tray back down, she wrung her hands, trying to get them to stop shaking.

  “You okay, Shannon?” Jody was eyeing her with concern. He was a nice guy and a great friend. At 6’8” and over 250 pounds, he looked more like a bouncer than a bartender, but he mixed perfect drinks and seemed to enjoy what he did. She was glad he was around for her, with a reassuring hand on the shoulder or a clenched fist if a customer got too friendly. He’d even helped her move into her new apartment a few weeks back with the help of his wife, and two teenage sons.

  “I’m good, Jody. Just surprised to see my ex here, is all.”

  “Your ex is Gideon Eli? The lead guitarist, turned solo artist, turned record producer? Are you shittin’ me?”

  “No biggie, Jo. It’s been over for ten years. It was just a surprise seeing him here.”

  Shannon watched as his gaze flew to the table in the corner. His eyes showed he was adding up all the information and not liking the answer. Leaning forward he whispered harshly, “Is he the motherfucker that—”

  “Don’t.” Shannon interrupted. “Not here, Jody. Okay? Anton is pissed off enough. I don’t need a big macho scene from you.”

  “I guess that answers my question. Why aren’t you collecting bank from that asshole? He’s loaded and could afford more than enough to keep you from waiting tables and living in that crappy apartment.”

  “I don’t want anything from him. Not then, not now.” Shannon took the spilled beer and handed him the glass. “Please, just top this off and let me do my job.”

  He glared at her for a moment, his eyes shooting daggers over her head toward Gideon’s table. “Whatever you say, babe.”

  The rest of the night was torture. She tried her best to avoid Gideon, but with him in her section, it was impossible. She did everything in her power to keep her distance, not giving him another opportunity to touch her, and she didn’t look at him outside of taking his order.

  But Gideon and his companions lingered until closing, and when Jody finally announced last call, she’d never heard two more beautiful words in her life.

  After closing, she waited for Jody to finish up. The employee parking lot was dark and there had been a few incidents in the neighborhood, so he always insisted on walking her out—which for Shannon was no hardship. As they exited the back door, they found Gideon waiting by the lone street light in the lot. As luck would have it, her car was parked two spaces away. After Jody had fussed at her ad nauseam, she had learned to park as close to the building and street light as she could.

  The dim glow from the light behind Gideon cast shadows across his face. As they approached, he pushed away from the fence he’d been leaning on and stood tall and tense, waiting.

  “I don’t want to talk to you, Gideon. Please leave me alone.”

  “Shannon, don’t you at least owe me the courtesy of an explanation?”

  Jody stepped in between them, putting on his best badass bouncer face. He chest bumped Gideon, and Shannon noticed that her ex held his ground. Although a big guy at 6’4”, Gid was undersized by comparison. At least 30 pounds lighter, he was still quite muscular and the scowl on his face right now was just as intimidating as Jody’s. Neither man was backing down. As Shannon looked on, she worried that this pissing contest might degenerate into a fistfight if one of them didn’t back off soon.

  “She said she doesn’t want to talk to you, pal. So I suggest you move on.”

  Those words, so familiar and painful, had Shannon choking for air.

  “Who are you? Are you two together?” Gideon’s cool gaze flicked to Shannon before returning to the threatening man posturing before him.

  “He’s just a friend.” Dammit! Why did she feel the need to defend herself to him? She didn’t owe him any explanations. Grabbing Jody’s forearm with both hands, she tugged. “Please don’t start something. I just want to go home.”

  Jody stood his ground for another minute, glaring menacingly at the other man. “Let’s get you to your car, then.” He guided Shannon away with a hand at her back, leaving Gideon to stare after them. Soon, she was safely inside her ten-year-old piece of shit Chevy, which thankfully started on the first try. As she backed out of her space, she saw Jody glaring daggers at Gideon, but his eyes were fixed on her. Giving him a sidelong glance as she drove out of the parking lot, she shivered. She’d seen that look of determination before. She knew she hadn’t seen the last of Gideon McCord.

  * * *

  Gideon slammed his front door and threw his keys toward his entryway table. He cursed and punched the wall as he watched them slide over the surface and fall behind. However, he wasn’t pissed about his keys. It was Shannon Hughes—the woman who had haunted his dreams and fucked with his mind on a daily basis for the past ten years.

  Never in a million years would he have guessed he’d find her again and working as a cocktail waitress. He wondered what had happened. When she left him, she’d been attending UCLA. She’d wanted to become an elementary school teacher. He remembered the ribbing he had taken when his friends found out he was dating a kindergarten teacher. They’d called them the saint and the sinner. In fact, Johnny had gotten inspired enough to have written one of their biggest hits, titled the same. He didn’t think Shannon ever knew it was about them. It seemed so long ago, but at times—like tonight—it was like yesterday.

  For months, he’d looked for her, calling her daily, but she ignored all his messages. He’d given up for a while, tried dating other women to help him forget, but it had been hopeless. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, and he needed to know why she’d left. It was driving him crazy. When he tried calling her again and found her number no longer in service, he’d hired a private detective. But spending a small fortune trying to find her had turned up no leads. It was as if she’d vanished from the face of the earth. After a year, he had given up, although he’d had the PI continue with electronic surveillance of her credit activity. After another six months, he’d let that lapse too. Why waste your time and money looking for a woman, who doesn’t want to be found?

  Gideon walked through his dark, silent house to the kitchen. Grabbing a zippered bag, he filled it with ice for his rapidly swelling hand. Taking a Corona from the fridge, he walked out to the patio and flopped down onto a lounger. Starring unseeingly into the darkness, he sat sipping his beer and icing his hand. He didn’t notice the roar of the Pacific as its waves crashed against the beach below, nor the splash of the rock waterfall that circulated the water in his pool. He didn’t see the swaying palms before him or smell the scent of the fresh, salty air that was so distinctive of Malibu.

  None of the things that usually calmed and soothed him penetrated his beleaguered mind. All he saw and heard and smelled was Shannon. There were subtle differences, but she was the same Shannon—his Shannon. After all this time, he still thought of her that way.

  He replayed the long torturous evening in his mind. At first he’d been numb, shocked by her sudden appearance, then her presence had invaded his senses. Her scent, the same one that had haunted him for years, had surrounded
him, tempting and taunting him all night. When she’d bent at his side serving their drinks, her soft powdery, scent had encompassed him. Not the cloying flowery perfume that some women wore, instead hers was light and feminine, and sexy.

  Useless for the rest of his business meeting, he’d watched her fixatedly, and he knew, possessively. He’d lost track of the conversation around him, his eyes following her as she worked. As she moved around the room bending, dipping and turning, his jealousy flared as she drew every male eye in the place. She’d always had tempting curves, but back then, they hadn’t been as full and womanly. That was when he realized that the girl in his memories was gone, leaving a stunningly beautiful woman in her place.

  Groaning, he shifted as his throbbing cock responded again—had it ever stopped?—and brought him back to the present. Taking a long pull of his beer, he pictured those curves, subtly displayed in her fairly conservative uniform. Well he remembered what treasures lay beneath that short little skirt. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the visions that invaded his thoughts, but Shannon’s stunning blue gaze stared back at him. Framed with long thick lashes, he imagined brushing away the few strands of hair that clung to their spiky length. Her soft golden brown hair would feel like silk against his skin. He’d played with her hair often, always touching, stroking, or running his long fingers through those smooth shiny locks. He remembered how she liked when he wound it around his wrist, anchoring her to him, especially during sex. He would thread his hand into the thickness at her nape and pull her head back, exposing her throat for his lips. Never too rough, but with firm control, and she’d loved it. Her answering groan telling him all he needed to know. He hadn’t forgotten how the ends would curl, often winding around his fingers as if to never let go. That last part startled him out of his memories. How had things gone so wrong?