The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants

by Lori L. Clark

  Star's eyes widened in an unspoken protest. "What if he thinks I'm an intruder and shoots me or something?"

  Neona dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "As far as I know, he doesn't own a gun."

  Star traipsed back up the stairs. Again, she banged her fist against the door with so much force she knew it would leave the side of her hand bruised. She pulled her lips between her teeth and tried the door handle. With a loud snick, it opened, and Star stepped through.

  She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but the space was small and surprisingly neat. No dirty dishes or empty pizza boxes strewn about, like one might expect from a young bachelor's apartment. She inhaled the overpowering aroma of hot guy: amber incense and Irish Spring soap, not at all unpleasant.

  Just being in Shane's personal space made her feel a little like she was spying on him, and the thoughts made her cheeks burn. What if he comes out and catches me here? I'll die of mortification. You can die from that, right?

  She glanced around the space and noticed only two doors. One of them was open, and it was obviously the bathroom. She assumed the other had to be his bedroom. She walked over and stood outside his room. When she lifted her hand to knock, the door slid open. Cautiously, Star peeked inside. He was on his back, his right arm across his eyes. His bare chest rose and fell in measured, shallow breaths.

  "Shane?" she said quietly. She reached out and gently shook his shoulder. He made a moaning noise, which was unnerving. Star had to admit, it sounded kind of hot. She shook him once more and was about to repeat his name when his eyes popped open. He blinked, and Star could have sworn she heard him say, "Pinch me."

  "Shane?"

  Startled by her presence, his hand darted out and wrapped snuggly around her fragile wrist. In one swift movement, he leaped from his bed. As he did, the strategically placed sheet, which had been covering him, slid to the floor, revealing way more than she'd planned to see. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and wrenched her arm free from his grasp. Spinning around, she felt her face catch fire from embarrassment and shock. Shock that he'd grabbed her so roughly and embarrassment from seeing him in all of his tight body, nakedness.

  Saturn, Pluto, and Mars. "God. I'm so sorry. Please don't think I'm some sort of weird stalker chick. But your aunt fell, and we think she broke her leg. Michael is taking her to Mercy Urgent Care. They need you to come into work early. Like now. That's all. I'll just let myself out so you can get dressed," she blurted without stopping to take a single breath. She bolted toward the door to make her escape while she still had some semblance of pride remaining.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Star held her breath all the way down the stairs. As soon as she cleared the threshold of the convenience store, she exhaled noisily. Michael and Ami turned to stare at her as though she'd lost her mind, and she burst into a fit of nervous giggles. The skin between Michael's eyebrows creased. "Is Shane coming?" he asked.

  The tops of Star's ears burned when she realized in her haste to get the hell away from the gorgeous, naked young man upstairs, she hadn't waited around long enough to find out if he was actually going to come and relieve Ami. "Um. I sort of forgot to get an answer," she said quietly.

  Ami's face split into a mile-wide grin. "Let me guess. Shane didn't answer the door, so you went inside. He was naked, right?"

  Star's cheeks reddened, and she gaped at the short woman, who was nearly as wide as she was tall. She wondered how Ami could possibly know that Shane had been naked, unless she'd witnessed the same thing at some point. Star averted her eyes to the toes of her shoes and nodded. "As a jaybird."

  Michael let out a groan. "I've got to get Neona to Mercy Urgent Care. We've wasted too much time as it is."

  Ami shooed him out the door. "Go. We've got this."

  He gave her a curt nod. "I'll stop back later," he said, and was out the door in two strides.

  "Get yourself one of these sexy red smocks," Ami teased and motioned toward the back room. "There are a few extras hanging up in Neona's office."

  Star disappeared into the back of the store, and after trying on several tops, she found a clean one that fit. When she came back out, Ami was busily ringing up the line of people at the cash register. "Go ahead and restock the soda coolers. You know how to make coffee?" she asked.

  "Sure," Star responded to both requests. She brewed two fresh pots of coffee right away and then worked on filling the coolers. She needed to take her mind off the very virile, very naked Shane Harper.

  Hard at work, intently focused on the job at hand, Star sat back on her haunches to fill the cooler's bottom shelves. She sensed him before she saw him. Her eyes fixed on his worn Nikes, and she refused to allow her gaze to roam any farther up his jean clad legs.

  "Sorry about what happened earlier," Shane said softly.

  Star's eyebrows pinched together. "I'm the one who owes you an apology," she told him.

  He kneeled down so that he was eye level with her. He wanted her to look at him, but she seemed to be completely uninterested in doing so. He gently laid his hand on her forearm, and felt her flinch away from his touch. He glanced down and, to his horror, saw bruises beginning to form around her wrist from where he had grabbed her. "Aw hell. Did I do that?" he asked.

  "It's okay, really. I bruise super easy." she said. His gentleness unhinged her, and she found it hard to think straight with him in her personal space. She sighed and brushed her hair away from her face. His eyes shifted, and she knew he saw what was left of the faint yellow bruising on the ridge of her cheekbone.

  "No, really. I'm sorry I grabbed you like that. I overreacted and...well, I didn't mean to hurt you," he offered.

  Star pushed to her feet and stepped away from him. "I didn't mean to see you naked, either," she said truthfully as she turned to gather up the empty soda flats. Though I'm not really complaining.

  "Are you planning on doing any work anytime soon so I can get the hell out of here?" Ami asked, addressing Shane. She stood in the doorway between the front and back rooms with her arms folded across her chest.

  "Yeah, get out of here. I've got it," he told her as he strode past her toward the register.

  The temperature had crept up a couple of degrees, allowing the salt to do its job, making the roads safe for travel again. Slowly, one by one, the crowd thinned until Star and Shane were the only two people left in the building.

  He taught her how to operate the cash register, and while she waited on the customers who came and went, he swept, mopped, and did anything he could think of to keep from giving in to the overwhelming urge he had to wrap his arms around her and pull her against him. He smiled to himself when he caught her staring at him several times while he pretended not to notice.

  "You realize Pluto's technically not considered a planet anymore, right?" he asked.

  "Random much?" Star rolled her eyes. She was aware of the scientific debate. But as someone who had studied astrology for over twenty years, she would never be convinced that Pluto didn't matter in the countless astrology charts she'd delineated.

  "I study the solar system. Planets are kind of my thing," he admitted.

  "Me too," she said.

  Shane quirked an eyebrow at her. He'd never met anyone who knew as much as he did about the solar system, and he was pleasantly surprised by her. "You study astronomy?"

  "No," she shook her head, "I'm an astrologer."

  "Pfft. I don't believe in that crap," he informed her.

  Star planted her hands on her hips and cocked her head sideways at him. "Let me guess. Capricorn, right?"

  Shane shrugged his shoulders. "January eighth, whatever that is."

  "I rest my case," she told him. Her mouth pulled into a smug, satisfied smile.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Michael stopped by Harper's General Store a few hours later to tell Star and Shane that Neona had indeed broken her leg. The Mercy Urgent Care doctor fitted her with a temporary splint and sent her home with some pain meds. She was resting com
fortably but was unable to relax completely, knowing she wouldn't be able to oversee the day-to-day operations of the store. She would be laid up for six to eight weeks.

  Star wondered if the entire payroll staff consisted of Neona, Shane, and Ami. Did the three of them run the place seven days a week? How did anyone ever get a day off? Obviously, Ami would be taking some time off when she had her baby.

  "Are there others who work here? I mean besides you three?" she asked Shane while she wiped down the counter around the coffee makers.

  "It's hard to find reliable help around a town the size of Red Vale," Shane admitted. "Most of the high school kids drive up to Hannibal for jobs. The other, less motivated ones are looking for a place to work where they can let their friends hang out and steal the place blind."

  "So? What's that mean¸ exactly? You never get a day off?" Star asked.

  Shane removed the full trash bags from around the store, tied them off, and piled them next to the back door to take out later. "If I want a day off, I can take it." He grinned at her. "Why, Neptune Girl? You have plans for me to do something other than slave away here in Harper's General Store?"

  Star shook her head and smiled in spite of herself at his assumption. "Neptune Girl?"

  "Yeah. The facts I know about Neptune seem to fit you," he told her. His eyes locked with hers unabashedly. Shane gathered all of the bags of trash in one hand and pushed open the back door.

  Star chewed on the inside of her cheek considering his words as he walked outside. All of the unflattering things she'd discovered about herself by studying astrology flooded into her consciousness. She often blamed Neptune for her shortcomings, especially her apparent inability to discern fact from fiction.

  The uncanny ways she chose to retreat into a dream world instead of facing the cold, hard realities had been her way of life -- escapism, through drinking, sometimes drugs, and oftentimes sex. The skin prickled on her scalp. Was she really that transparent? Could he see through her carefully constructed walls already?

  As soon as he rushed back inside from the biting, cold wintry air, she lit into him. "Explain, please?"

  "About?" he asked, genuinely confused.

  "Exactly what Neptunian facts?" She found it hard to mask the anger starting to burn inside of her. Sensitive. Thin-skinned. Two more of her unflattering traits, she mused.

  "Whoa," he held up his hands. "I didn't mean anything bad by the reference."

  Star rubbed her arms against the chill that had entered the room behind him and bit her bottom lip. "Guess it's just me. I tend to automatically assume the worst."

  A faint smile crinkled the corners of his clear-as-a-summer-day blue eyes, and a phantom dimple appeared momentarily in his cheek. "Neptune is the stormiest planet in the solar system, and I see a quiet, yet determined intensity when I look at you. It's sort of like watching the calm before the storm."

  He reached toward her, and she inhaled sharply as he brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. Her feet were frozen to the floor, and she wondered if she should step away, disconnect herself from his intoxicating magic. She wasn't sure she could, even if she wanted to. "And?" she whispered.

  "And the planet has a system of thin dark, incomplete rings. Like the shadows beneath your eyes." He smiled and dropped his hand away from her. "Neptune is blue, yet undeniably beautiful."

  Star swallowed. What exactly did he mean by that? Does he think I'm beautiful? "Aren't you the romantic one?" she asked with a tiny voice.

  Shane tipped his head back and laughed. "Me? Nah. I'm the logical Capricorn. The scientist, remember?"

  He pulled a magazine from the rack and hoisted himself up onto the counter. He flipped through the pages and pretended to read. For all he knew, he could have been holding the thing upside down. His mind, as well as his eyes, kept wandering back to the intriguing woman who lit his insides on fire.

  "Can you cook?" he asked her.

  Star was working on restocking the cigarettes, and though her back was to him, she sensed him watching her. When she turned to face him, his attention quickly dropped back to the magazine in his hands. "Yes, why?"

  He flipped a few more pages and said, "Thanksgiving's coming and Neona was planning to have dinner at her house."

  "Can you cook?" she asked.

  He glanced sideways at her and smirked. Unexplainably, she found his surreptitious glances extremely flattering, albeit unnerving. It had been a long time since a member of the opposite sex had paid her any attention. Especially a sober one.

  "Yeah, I'm baking the pies," he said.

  Star shook her head. "Baking them? As in buying them at the grocery store and reheating them?"

  "I'm crushed." He put his hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "Truly crushed that you don't believe I can cook."

  "You're right. How presumptuous of me," she said, turning back to finish stocking. "Between your pie baking skills and my expertise around the kitchen, we might just be able to pull it off and save Thanksgiving dinner."

  He chuckled and slid from the counter. "You have yourself a deal, Blue."

  "Blue? I have a name, you know," she admonished him playfully.

  "Yeah, I know," he said with a nonchalant shrug.

  Even though barely a handful of customers had wandered into the store that afternoon, the rest of her shift flew by. She hadn't even realized it was time for her to go home until Shane announced, "It's six."

  Star sighed, remembering she forgot to grab a coat earlier. They'd left the house in such a hurry. She leaned against the back counter and frowned. "I don't suppose you have an extra coat I could borrow?"

  Shane peered at her through narrowed eyes. "Why?"

  "I don't have one, and it's cold out there," she pointed out. "I can't very well walk home without a coat."

  "You can't walk to Aunt Neona's, are you crazy? That's like three miles," he said, scowling.

  She laughed, "It's not the three miles that bothers me. It's the fact that I'm not exactly dressed to go for a stroll."

  "I'm not letting you walk," he said. He pulled out his cell phone, and when Star started to protest, he held his hand up to stay her objections. "Hey, swing by the store. I need a favor...yes, now."

  Star didn't know who was on the other end of the brief conversation, but whoever it was must have complied. "What did you just do?" she asked.

  "Called in a favor from a friend," Shane said.

  "Seriously? If you'd just let me borrow a coat--"

  "Seriously? No," he said pointedly.

  Star rolled her eyes at him and huffed. "Fine."

  Fifteen minutes later, an older model, black Chevy Impala pulled up out front, the throaty rumble from the exhaust vibrating the store windows. An extremely thin, long-legged man climbed from the driver's side and entered the store. His red hair was buzzed short, and his goatee was threaded with ample amounts of silver. He nodded at Star and bumped knuckles with Shane.

  "Star, this is my friend Tommy. And tonight, he's your ride to Aunt Neona's," Shane informed her.

  Tommy gave her a toothy grin and said, "Get your coat, sweetheart. It's colder than a well-digger's ass out there."

  Star snorted unattractively and quickly covered her mouth. "Nice to meet you, Tommy. I don't have a coat. That's why he," she thumbed over her shoulder at Shane, "wouldn't let me walk home."

  "That right?" He snickered. "How very chivalrous of him."

  Shane shot Tommy a dirty look. "Shut it, old man."

  Star's attention drifted between Shane and Tommy as they verbally sparred back and forth. She sensed there was a history between the two of them, and from the way their harmless barbs bounced off one another, it was an interesting one.

  "Thanks for putting up with me this afternoon. It was enlightening." She smiled at Shane as she turned to leave.

  "Hey, Blue?" he called after her. She tilted her head in his direction as if to say 'what?' and the smile he gave her thawed her heart just a little. He winked and said, "See you tomorro
w."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seventy-two hours. That's how long Estelle had been gone. Give or take the few hours Derek couldn't remember from the night she left. This was the longest she'd ever stayed away. He paced the kitchen floor for the hundred and fiftieth time that day. He was going bat-shit crazy, wondering where the hell she was. He yanked the truck keys from the hook on the wall and tugged a ratty blue sweatshirt down over his head.

  The walls were starting to press in on him, so he decided to go to the gym. His nerve endings were electric, and he was wired with way too much energy. He hoped a few circuits around the weight machines would help work off the agitation so he could get some sleep.

  On the way home, he couldn't resist the urge calling him to Crow's Landing. Like a silent siren's song beckoning him. He knew the route like the back of his hand and soon found himself sitting in the parking lot staring at the building. It was the middle of the week, and there were only a few cars. Derek sat in the idling truck for a few minutes and considered his options.

  He knew if he went inside, he'd probably wind up busting a few heads, starting with that fucker Taylor. Wednesday was a bad night to spend in jail. He couldn't afford any more unexcused absences right now. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, and his eyes focused on the flashing neon beer signs reflected in the business windows across the street.

  Just as he was getting ready to leave, the side door opened and a leggy redhead wearing a too short skirt and come-fuck-me, bright red stilettos staggered toward her car. With a wolfish sneer, Derek lowered the truck window. "Hey, Roxy, c'mere," he hollered.

  Roxy paused for a split second before she spotted him. She made her way over to where he was parked and asked, "Hey, Derek, what's up?"

  "Why don't you get in and I'll show you what's up, baby doll?" He leered at her. His dick was hard just thinking about those full, red lips of hers wrapped around his throbbing shaft.

  Roxy placed her hands on the door and leaned in the window, giving him a bird's eye view of her ample cleavage. She smelled like cheap perfume and expensive booze, but Derek didn't care. His balls ached for release and anything would be better than taking matters into his own hands again.