Gideon's Redemption (3 page)

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?

Draining his beer, he set the bottle down with a clink. Drinking never solved anything, he warned himself, as he ran both hands through his hair in frustration. After lying there, turning over and over the events leading up to her leaving, he growled in frustration. He still had no clue what had gone wrong, but he was determined to get some answers, even if it meant taking his hand to her sexy little ass to get them.

* * *

The next night he returned to the Bungalow alone, but Shannon refused to talk to him again, even switching assignments with the other waitress on duty so she didn’t have to wait on him. Her personal bodyguard was on duty again, and short of making a scene, he left once again, empty handed.

The following night he returned and again sat in her section. He was determined to get her to talk to him, even if it took pissing her off or playing dirty. An impatient man on a good day, he wasn’t going to keep coming back and let her avoid him. So, he took matters into his own hands. He paid the other waitress on duty to decline his table if Shannon asked to switch, making it very much worth her while.

An exasperated Shannon soon came storming up, demanding in a harsh whisper, “Why are you doing this, Gideon? You’re going to get me fired. Do you know how hard it is to find a waitress job with tips this good?”

“I’m not gonna stop until you talk to me, Shannon. I deserve to know why you walked out on me, leaving me without an explanation other than that bullshit letter.”

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not up for it. Do you get off by tormenting all your waitresses, or is it just me?”

“It must be you. It seems like I haven’t gotten off in ages, at least not like I did with you.”

Her face flamed a bright red, and if it were possible, steam would have come out her ears. She was that mad. Gideon recognized the signs and knew she’d be unable to maintain her cool for much longer, so he pushed more.

“Talk to me, Shannon. That’s all I’m asking.”

“You’re a jerk and I think you should leave before I call the police and charge you with stalking!”

He ignored her, giving her a wicked grin. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry. I remember how I used to make you mad on purpose. You fucked like a wild woman when you were angry. It made me hot, just like now.”

“Really?” she asked with a little smirk, having reached her limit.

Expecting a slap across the face, he was shocked when a deluge of ice water hit his lap.

“Poor baby, maybe that will cool you off.” Slamming the empty pitcher onto the table, she whipped around and stormed off.

Although uncomfortable, he had accomplished his goal to a get a rise out of her. He’d rather have her angry than cool and aloof. If she was angry or frustrated enough, she might cave and tell him what he wanted to know just to make him go away.

As he sat in his frozen jeans, his eyes followed her. They were drawn to the saucy sway of her bottom in the short flirty skirt as she marched away, fuming. He swore he heard an uncharacteristic naughty word murmured in her wake.

With a smug grin, he paid his tab and left. Her shield was cracking.

Chapter Four

Stomping up the stairs, she took out her anger on the doors as she whipped them open so hard they bounced against the cinderblock walls. Without a choice, she started up the three flights on aching feet because the elevator was broken again. As she approached her apartment, she dug in her purse for her keys. Trying to calm herself, she stood still for a moment, taking deep, slow breaths before going inside. Instead of settling her nerves though, she suddenly felt zapped of energy and slumped against the door, tears burning her eyes.

After Gideon left The Bungalow, Anton had called her into his office and summarily fired her. He was unwilling to listen to reason. He didn’t care that a customer was coming on to her and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He didn’t care that she was being harassed and stalked by her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t care that he was leaving a single mother without a paycheck. All he cared about was upsetting His Eminence, Chief Big Shot of the Music Industry, and Supreme Being, Gideon Eli.

Blinking back tears, she felt the hopelessness set in. She had $450 in savings. That was $50 short of the tuition for the last class she needed to complete her degree. She was so close, but now so far away from the teaching certificate she’d been working on for over a decade. Grants and scholarships were available, but only for halftime students. She couldn’t afford rent and childcare while also decreasing her hours at work to go halftime. Therefore, she had slowly scrimped and saved enough to take one class at a time.

Now she was back to square one. Her savings would buy her one month’s rent and a little time, maybe a month or so, to look for another job. Reaching into her pocket, she counted her tips—$75—not bad for a half shift. That would buy about two weeks of groceries if she bought cheap. Just the necessities would wipe her out. She didn’t want to think of Christmas, which was right around the corner.