Page 4 of Gideon

Well, not just pink, butglitter pinkwith soft fluffy cushions and pink pillows. Nearly every wall was covered in hand-drawn pictures with labels likefrom Sammi, from Micah, from Neil, from Janeyand so on. Her kids clearly loved her, and I stared in awe at everything. Then I started seeing other touches. The soft pink onesie that was folded neatly on the bed, the huge white teddy bear given pride of place on the bed, and the other different stuffies around the room.

I almost crossed my fingers in the hope she might be the type of woman I craved. She seemed happy, but in dire need of spoiling, and I set her down gently. I didn’t know how much she got paid but if this was where she lived, I would guess not much.

“Abby?” I murmured, reluctantly untangling my arms.

“Mmm,” she mumbled and tried to burrow back into me. My heart melted. The guys would all be laughing hysterically if they could see me now.

Or maybe not. I knew they were all hoping for their own Little.

“Sorry baby girl, but I need you to go to the bathroom and get your jammies on.” She blinked open her eyes, lookingconfused. “You were asleep. Let me go get you a glass of water while you get ready for bed.” I should have been appalled at her trust. She didn’t know me and yet she was allowing me to be in her apartment while she got ready for bed.

She should be spanked for that.

Or notallowingexactly. Pretty difficult when she was asleep. I closed the bedroom door behind me and went into the tiny kitchen and opened a couple of cupboards before I saw the glasses. I reached in but then stopped, my breath catching in my lungs. At the back was a sippy cup. It even had pink unicorns on it, and I eyed it like it would bite me. She could have it for a variety of reasons. She might have a relative or friend with a little girl, but somehow, I didn’t think so. Carefully, I pulled it out and unscrewed a bottle of water from the fridge and poured it in. Hearing the toilet flush, I gave her another minute before knocking on her bedroom door and going in. She was just pulling the covers up and smiled sleepily.

“I thought I was dreaming.” She giggled and closed her eyes. “I am dreaming.”

I put the sippy cup down and because I couldn’t not respond, I bent down and brushed a kiss in her hair. “Sweet dreams, baby girl,” then I straightened and left the room.

I didn’t leave the apartment until I got a locksmith to secure the door better. I left her the new key in an obvious place with the business card from the locksmith, then used the second key to lock it securely behind me as I left.

I immediately texted our computer whiz Eric to find out what I could about Abby. In particular, where she worked and what time she finished tomorrow.

Because I was determined to be there waiting for her.

Chapter two

ABIGAIL

My alarm sang the Cinderella birdy song, and I smiled. It never failed to amuse me, and it was a perfect find from one of my regular thrift stores. It should have played another five Disney songs, but it only played Cinderella now, though that was okay. I woke up every morning dreaming bluebirds were pulling the covers down. I groaned as I remembered work, but then brightened a little as I also remembered Friday was my half day. I loved my job, but it didn’t pay nearly enough, which was why I was in a crap apartment. It was also hourly, not salaried, and since it was a private daycare, they kept all their employees just under the full-time threshold so it was cheaper.

I’d tried to take on a second job to supplement my income but it had been a disaster, and with my medical issuesI’d been let go from so many full-time ones it wasn’t funny, so managing two was impossible.

The official diagnosis was chronic low blood pressure. I also had anxiety attacks which caused the low blood pressure to be worse and I generally passed out. Most people thought that anxiety caused high blood pressure, but that wasn’t always the case. Not with me, anyway, and it always made my condition worse. Guess I was special. Not that I hadn’t been called “special” a time or two by a lot of different foster parents that assumed I wanted attention.

Anyway, none of this self-reflection was going to get me ready for work. Thirsty, I reached over for my water, grabbed the sippy cup, and took a long drink.

Then it hit me.

Last night.

The time I’d spent with Gideon. How he felt. How he smelled. I lay back down carefully and breathed evenly until I felt confident about sitting up again. I remembered him bringing me home and I looked at the sippy cup. Shame burned through me, but how could he have known? Did I go get my own water after he left?

I got up and took a shower as quickly as I could. I usually gave myself enough time in the morning so nothing would have to be rushed or stressed, but I was a little rattled. Then I got dressed in my favorite blue shorts—knee-length so still professional—and pink blouse. I exited the en-suite bathroom—great to have but also why I never had any visitors as they had to walk through my bedroom to get there and that was my sanctuary—and headed into the kitchen to boil some water for tea.

I’d learned a long time ago that coffee didn’t agree with me.

I stopped as soon as I saw the front door.

And the lock.

The big-ass lock that definitely hadn’t been there last night.

Then I glanced at the business card from the company that had installed it and the brand-new sparkling key for me. I made my tea and tried to puzzle it out. I’d gotten into my apartment last night even if Gideon had brought me here, and that lock had definitely not been there when I left, which meant it had been installed sometime after I went to bed.

Which made zero sense.

I picked up the card and before I could second-guess myself, I called the number. “Hi,” I said and rattled off my name and address. “I wondered if you could tell me what I owe for the lock so I can get that squared away?”

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