Chapter 7

Gideon

A Week Later

I t's a pain getting this alternator off of this car – I've been at it for the better part of an hour, but when you're dealing with vintage, you have to be extra careful with stripped screws and rust. Lion is counting on me to take care of his baby, and this is the only car I'm working on so far this week. I'm in no hurry.

Still, it irks me.

I roll out from beneath the car, wipe my greasy hands and when I look up, I'm met with a pair of big, beautiful brown eyes.

It's my Lilly.

She has on a pink shirt, jeans, and she's wearing a pair of white sneakers. There's a huge pink bow on her head, securing a ponytail.

"Da-dee," she says.

I smile. "Hey, babygirl. Where's your mom?"

"Right here," Ivy says.

I look up to see her sitting on the steps, fanning her hand in a single wave. She looks good today – looks more relaxed after spending the last week here with me. She has on a yellow dress. Her hair is hanging in gorgeous curls that makes my hands tremble as I think about all the times I've had it balled up in my fist. Babygirl breaks my trance with her mother when she tugs on the pant leg of my dirty jeans and darts her arms straight up in the air for me to pick her up. My hands are so oily and greasy, I can't pick her up. I'd, for sure, ruin her clothes.

I say, "Daddy can't pick you up right now, babygirl. My hands are all dirty. See." I open my hands for good measure and say, "See…dirty."

She starts whimpering and whining, insisting that I pick her up. She must get that from her mother – the insistence that is. Having her way and all.

I grab a shop cloth and wipe my hands as best as I can and then secure her in my arms. Tears are still in her eyes, but she's smiling now instead of frowning. I walk over to Ivy and say, "I think I've created a monster."

She smiles.

I smile back. We've been getting along better this week – better than I could have anticipated. She's cooked those meals that I love and we haven't been arguing – that's a good sign. What's not so good is the way my body has been aching for her. I keep telling myself that she's here for protection – not to rekindle anything we once shared. Besides, it's been well established that my lifestyle doesn't suit her. Why try to bring her into my world again? It'll surely lead to disappointment.

"She's definitely forming an attachment to you."

"That's a good thing. I'm going to be around for a looong time. Ain't that right, Lilly?"

She giggles, then grabs strands of my hair in her little hand.

The sound of a car backfiring around the corner makes Ivy jump. She looked genuinely scared like she was having flashbacks. When she looks at me, I see embarrassment on her face. I make a note to talk to her about that later since we haven't discussed anything pertaining to the things she's endured with that guy. I was trying to stay away from it, but I see now it needs to be dissected. I still have Cash on my radar, but for now, I'm more concerned about Ivy and what she and my daughter had to endure with this man.

"I cooked dinner if you're hungry," she says.

"You know I've never been one to turn down a meal. I'll come in and wash up real quick."

"Okay."

I carry Lilly inside, then lower her to her feet. The aroma of the food hits me in the face. I love well-seasoned food and Ivy has been providing that to me all week. I fought like heck not to get addicted to her cooking again since she's only here temporarily. But those homecooked meals bring back memories of happier times. Of when I'd hike up her skirt and take her up against the refrigerator until all the cereal boxes fell. We shared a hungry passion for each other. There isn't a room in this house that we haven't blessed with our love.

But that was then.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, I walk to the kitchen. Ivy has made a seafood boil with shrimp, crab legs and all the goodness that comes in a good Louisiana boil. Man, I miss this food and no one does it better than her. Not even the best restaurants around here can make a boil like Ivy.

She mashes up some potatoes for Lilly and holds her while she eats.

I say, "This is delicious, Ivy."

"Thanks. I remember it was your favorite."

"Yes, it is," I say licking my fingers. "You've been spoiling me this week. You have to stop."

"Why?"

"Ain't no need to cook for a man like this when you have no desire to stick around."

"How do you know what I desire, Gideon?" she asks.

We lock eyes for a moment and she blinks her way out of it and says, "I appreciate the compliment. Thank you."

I eat a piece of corn on the cob and crack a crab leg. The way it melts on my tongue has me ready to marry Ivy all over again.

Speaking of marriage, we're still husband and wife. She never served me with divorce papers. Maybe amid all the issues going on with her, she hasn't found the time.

"Looks like babygirl has eaten herself into a coma."

She looks over at Lilly and says, "Yeah, she was playing pretty hard today. I knew she would pass out after dinner."

"She sleeps like you—get tired and boom, just pass out right where you are like nothing else matters."

She giggles. "Like that time we were on Bourbon Street and you got me to try that hand grenade."

"Oh, that'll knock you off your feet even if you ain't tired."

She chuckles. "Right. They're good, though."

"Yeah, they are." I grab a large shrimp this time, dip it in the sauce and toss it in my mouth. "We had some good times, didn't we?"

"We did," she agrees. I can see in her expression that she's reminiscing on those good times.

She snaps out of it and says, "I'ma go lay her down."

"Yep," I say and continue eating while watching her walk out of the kitchen with Lilly in her arms. Ivy's done eating, so I don't think she'll be back since she's not all that comfortable around me anymore, but to my surprise, she does return. She goes to the counter and takes the lid off of a cake saver. I wasn't aware she made dessert, too.

"Do you want a slice?"

"Now, what kind of question is that? You already know the answer."

"I'm just making sure."

She proceeds to cut two slices. She puts them on small plates and returns to the table. It's double chocolate fudge cake, my favorite. I wonder if it's a coincidence that she's made my favorite or if it was intentional.

I say, "I was trying to protect him. Gage, that is. That's why I got caught."

"You don't have to talk about that if you don't want to, Gideon."

"It's fine. I feel like I need to state my peace. You didn't give me the option to do that before, so I want to take advantage now that we're somewhat on good terms."

She nods, eats cake and licks the fork. The motion of her tongue has me thinking of all the other things she's done to me with it. I miss that tongue. I used to eat that tongue like a delicacy. We used to be good for each other.

"Gideon?"

"What?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Uh…"

No, I didn't hear her. I was too busy staring at her mouth.

She says, "I said, if I could go back and do things over again, I would've listened to you. I was just so angry. I let it get the best of me when I should've listened to what you had to say."

"I appreciate you for saying that." I eat more cake and then say, "Gage said he and his guys had a plan. It went sour. His boys left him in the dust, and I was trailing Gage when we left the bank. I told him to turn off while the cops followed me. I thought I was home free until I hit something in the road. The bike flew. I thought I was dead."

I take a sip of water and continue, "I got the boys at the motorcycle club to repair it for me…was good as new when I came home."

She nods.

"I used to dream about you when I was in there. Most days, that's how I made it through."

"Now, you're making me feel guilty."

"It's the truth. I thought about you a lot—even when I was mad at you. I still am. Mad , that is."

She stands up and collects our plates, toting them over to the sink. I stand up and follow her there. She's running water in the sink and squeezing dish liquid to wash the dishes when I walk up behind her. With my body pressed flush against hers, I reach to turn it off. Then I trail my nose along the side of her face, to her ears, delighting in her scent – a scent I miss more than I pretended not to.

She gasps. "Gideon."

I undo the zipper of my jeans, hike up her dress and rip off her panties before spreading her legs wider. Then I find my way home – in the heat, the glory, the dampness between these thick thighs.

"Ah…this is what I've been missing."

It's what I wanted since I gained my freedom. Screw those women at the club. This is the real deal. I ain't never had nothing like it, and don't want nothing other than it. Can't no woman compare to Ivy.

And that's probably the case, too, because I love her.

Even after everything, I know that. She just doesn't know if she wants me. I suppose it's my job to convince her.

I hold her waist tight and thrust into her over and over again, pulling my length all the way out and going back in to feel the heat of her walls. I grunt and make all kinds of noises while swimming in her ocean.

She moans. "Gideon, oh…stop, stop, stop," she says desperately, gripping onto the counter.

"What's wrong?"

"We're going to wake Lilly."

"She's sleeping. If you're quiet, you won't have to worry about waking her."

"How am I supposed to—? Oh! How can I be quiet with you—oh!"

Her voice trails off. I don't let up. I keep massaging those insides before pushing her further down so she's bent at ninety degrees. I squeeze her waist and pull out slowly and enter her again.

Slowly.

"Oooh," she says druggingly. "Mmm…"

The noise she makes urges me to go faster, so that's what I do. I enter her, going at whiplash speed, feeling my release build and build and I'm not fighting it, but I do want her to come with me.

I play that sensitive bud between her legs like a guitar until her body shudders.

"Gideon!" she cries out, coming undone as her muscles squeeze and release me over and over again.

Her legs shake like I'm electrocuting her. I have to get a tighter grip on her and when I do, I let loose. I don't think I've ever come so hard and so fast, but there I was, emptying every drop into her while howling to the freakin' roof.

I slapped her on the butt – hit that thang hard when she moaned and whimpered. She wasn't thinking about Lilly or anything else when that orgasm hit and neither was I. It was pure need that I took her this way. And it would be pure lust that'll have me hitting it again tonight.