The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants

by Lori L. Clark

  He motioned to the passenger side door with a jerk of his head. "Get in," he said gruffly. She threw back her head and laughed; the sound grated on his last nerve. His eyes narrowed into slits.

  "Why don't you get out?" she teased. He was about to tell her he'd changed his mind, but she turned around and lifted the back of her skirt, revealing her bare ass. She glanced over her shoulder at him and said, "I'm not wearing any panties."

  He growled and reached into the glove compartment for a condom. It irritated him that he had to go to so much trouble for a piece of ass. If she'd just suck him off, he wouldn't have to do any work. He unzipped his pants and pushed them down on his hips, allowing his erection to spring free. He tore open the foil package and put the condom on.

  Roxy reached for him, wanting him to kiss her but, Derek was in no mood for foreplay. Letting her watch him roll the condom onto his stiff dick was foreplay enough. He grasped her by the shoulders and roughly spun her around, so he didn't have to see her face while he fucked her. "Put your hands on the hood," he demanded.

  She huffed and started to pull away from him. "You know what? I've changed my mind."

  It was his turn to laugh. "Not an option, Roxy," he warned. He shoved her until she was bent over the hood of his truck. He pressed against her, rubbing his cock against her slick folds a couple of times before he thrust into her hard enough to make her cry out. "Don't pretend like you don't love this, Roxy. Not as wet as you are."

  "Fuck you, Derek," she moaned. Her protests were feeble at best. Soon, she began to move, rocking against him as hard as he pushed into her.

  He knew he wasn't going to last very long and had no intention of prolonging it for the bitch's satisfaction. His body went rigid, and he let out a muffled grunt when he came. He didn't waste any time before he peeled off the spent rubber and tossed it onto the ground beside her hooker shoes. He zipped up his pants and smacked her on the ass. "Thanks, Roxy, always a pleasure. Now get the fuck off my truck, I've got to go."

  "You're an asshole," she spat at him. "No wonder Estelle left you. You can't even keep it up for more than five minutes."

  Derek resisted the urge to strangle her and climbed in his truck and drove off.

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the end of the week, Star had gotten into the routine of convenience store life. She also learned that Saturday and Sunday were her two days off and that there were other people on the payroll besides herself, Shane, and Ami.

  Star couldn't believe how at home she felt around these people, who, up until five days ago, had been strangers to her. Earlier in the week, Neona handed over the keys to her Jeep so Star could have transportation for going back and forth to work.

  Friday, Star went in a few minutes before her scheduled shift so she could chat with Ami before the woman left for the day. In spite of Ami's wildly fluctuating, hormone-driven moods, Star had taken an immediate liking to the girl. Over the course of the past few days, Star learned that Ami was twenty-six, had graduated from cosmetology school. She was married to her high school sweetheart, the sheriff's son, Paul. He was twenty-five and worked at a car dealership up in Hannibal. And she was due in February with their first child.

  "So, Shane tells me you two are cooking Thanksgiving dinner next week?" Ami commented. It sounded more like a question than a statement.

  Star nodded and smiled. "I don't know how he managed to convince me that was a good idea."

  "Shane can be both charming and persuasive. Add that to his boyish good looks, and you could have a potentially dangerous combination on your hands," Ami said.

  Star's mouth twisted into a smirk. "Are you speaking from personal experience?"

  "Me? Oh, heck no. Paul's been the love of my life since we were in junior high. It's a small town, that's all. People talk." Ami shrugged. "I was already out of high school by the time he got there."

  Star didn't know much about Shane, and other than that first afternoon, she had only spent a few minutes with him when he came in to relieve her at six every day. "He seems like a pretty good guy," Star commented.

  "Oh, he is. Now, anyway," Ami said. "He's had a shitty life the past few years, and it's a wonder he didn't wind up crazy or dead or both. All in all, he seems to have come out of it unscathed. I guess we have Tommy to thank for that."

  Star was curious, and she had a lot of unanswered questions about Shane. In spite of how alive he made her feel every time he walked into the room, their age difference was too great for anything serious to develop, and Star was so over cheap, meaningless sex.

  "Well, that's it for me. I'm out of here. I'll see you Monday. Same time, same place," Ami said cheerfully.

  Star nodded as Ami slipped off the trademark bright red smock and put on her coat before she headed out the door. "Have a good weekend, Ami," Star told her.

  A steady stream of customers trickled in all afternoon, leaving very little downtime for Star to stock the coolers or keep the coffee pots filled. She was refilling the straws and napkins when she heard the front door open for what must've been the thousandth time. "Be right with you," she called out without glancing to see who it was.

  "Missed a spot," Shane pointed over her shoulder at some spilled coffee grounds.

  Star's breath caught in her throat. Why did he have to stand so close? Ignoring his comment, she changed the subject. "Is it six already?"

  "Nah, Friday's are always busy. I figured you could use some help getting caught up doing all the shit work I despise. You do that stuff, I'll man the register. Sound good?" he asked.

  "Sure," she agreed. In spite of the fresh pot of coffee brewing directly beneath her nose, the only thing Star smelled when she breathed in was him. His strong scent of leather and Irish Spring soap was a strangely intoxicating blend. He was standing so close she felt the heat radiating off his body. "That'd be great. Thanks."

  She scooted sideways, careful not to brush against him. It was times like these -- the times he seemed to taunt her with his presence -- that turned her thirty-year-old brain into mush and other, lower, parts of her anatomy into a horny teenager. When she peered over at him, the smirk on his face made her wonder if he knew the effect he had on her, and if he taunted her on purpose.

  Star went into the back room and started to fill the soda coolers. She found it easy to covertly ogle Shane through the glass doors, and he was completely unaware. His gorgeous blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and his blue eyes were especially prominent tonight. She did a double take. Was he wearing eyeliner? Star unconsciously fanned herself with a cardboard soda flat at how delicious he looked.

  Even though she took her time, she finished fairly quickly. She picked up the trash that she'd scattered, and carried it to the cardboard bin. She went into the employee bathroom and washed up. She brushed her fingers through her messy locks and wiped the smudges from beneath her eyes.

  Star exited the backroom, and when she rounded the corner, she was unprepared for what was she saw happening between Shane and some girl, who had her hands all over him. She was also unprepared for feeling like she'd been punched in the gut when she saw the two of them together. My God, am I actually jealous?

  Before Shane saw her, she backed up and yanked off her vest. She grabbed her coat and purse, and when she came out of the backroom the second time, she held her head high. Idiot. She's his age. You're not. You can't possibly be jealous.

  "I'm not using," Kelsey told him in a whiney voice. Now that Shane was clean and sober, that voice made his ears bleed with annoyance. She had him cornered, literally, between the counter and the front windows. "Let me come back after your shift. I miss you, Shane."

  He was about to tell her no for the umpteenth time when his eyes locked on Star's fleeing form. From the look on her face, he knew she'd seen him in the awkward, yet completely innocent, position with Kelsey.

  "Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to tell you I'm all finished," Star said. She tried to keep her tone light and cheerful, though she felt anything bu
t. "See you Monday."

  Several things happened at once. Star bolted out the front door. Shane shoved Kelsey away from him, a little harder than he meant to, and she fell on her ass. When he stopped to help her up, Star drove off in Neona's Jeep.

  "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Kelsey glared at him, dusting off the back of her black skinny jeans. "Who was that woman, Shane? Who the fuck is she to you?"

  Shane rounded on Kelsey and gripped her firmly by the upper arms. "Kelsey, I'm not going to fucking tell you again. There is no more you and me. Get that through that coked up brain of yours and leave me the fuck alone. Do I make myself clear?" he asked. Kelsey's eyes went wide; she'd never seen him so determined. He shook her as though she were nothing more than a ragdoll, and repeated, "Do I?"

  She angrily shrugged out of his grasp. "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you!" she screamed, mascara blackened tears sliding down her red face. She scrambled away from him and out the door. She got into her Mustang and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving Shane shaking his head.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Shane scrubbed his hands over his face. What the fuck just happened here? Clearly Star had gotten the wrong impression when she saw him with Kelsey. But why had it upset her so much? In a perverse sort of way, he found himself a little bit pleased. If she ran out of the store because she assumed something was going on between him and Kelsey, then maybe she was a little jealous. And if she was jealous, that must mean that she liked him.

  Star drove home as calmly as she could, mentally kicking herself for overreacting. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she wasn't entirely sure why she had reacted so strongly to seeing Shane with that girl. It had bothered her, and now, she felt like a girl with a crush finding out the object of said crush was interested in someone else. She sighed and pushed the remote button on the visor to raise the garage door.

  She picked up the mail for Neona before going inside. As soon as she walked into the kitchen, Neona called out to her from her new temporary bedroom on the main floor. "Star? Is that you?"

  "It's me, Neona," she responded, already walking toward the former parlor. Star painted on a smile she didn't feel and handed Neona the mail. "You hungry?"

  Neona crinkled her nose. "Not really. These damn pain killers upset my stomach."

  "I'm going to fix a sandwich," Star said. "I'll be back, if you want some company."

  "That'd be just fine. I have a feeling you've got something on your mind," Neona said.

  Star shook her head. "How do you do that?"

  Neona chuckled and tapped her index finger against her temple. "Women's intuition."

  Star smiled and told her, "I'll be back in a few minutes. Can I bring you anything? Something to drink?"

  "I could go for a cup of coffee," Neona said.

  "Sure thing," Star said.

  Star brewed a fresh pot of coffee and made a cheese sandwich for herself while she waited. She peeked through the cupboards and noticed things were a little bare with Thanksgiving just around the corner. When she made her way back into Neona's room, she handed her the cup of coffee and sat down in the chair beside the pullout sofa bed.

  Star offered Neona half of her sandwich, but Neona shook her head. "No, thank you."

  After a few minutes of silence, Star brought up the approaching holiday. "Shane mentioned you were planning to have Thanksgiving here?"

  "Well, I was, but I don't see that happening now," Neona said softly as she sipped her coffee. "Maneuvering around the kitchen on crutches isn't a real efficient way to get any cooking done."

  Star put her plate with half of the sandwich on the end table and tucked her legs beneath her in the chair. "I'd love to do it for you. That is, if you don't mind some stranger finding her way around your kitchen?"

  Absentmindedly, Neona reached for the remainder of the sandwich and took a bite.

  "You're willing to do that? Dinner for six?"

  "I'd love to," Star told her. Star enjoyed cooking. It would be a welcome change to cook for people who might actually appreciate the effort. She was excited with the prospect of putting a large meal together. "Shane offered to bake the pies."

  Neona's face lit up, and she said, "That settles it. Shane makes the best pecan pie this side of the Mississippi."

  "Let's get a list together, and I'll go grocery shopping in the morning," Star suggested.

  "Top drawer of the desk over there." Neona nodded to the massive roll top desk across the room. "Grab me a pad of paper and a pen out of the top drawer. Then hand me the phone."

  Star hopped up and retrieved the items for her. They debated on how big the turkey should be, whether to make stuffing from scratch, or the kind from a box, as well as what other side dishes to serve. Neona reread the grocery list and said, "I think that's everything. Let me just call Shane and find out what he needs for the pies."

  Star's heart squeezed in her chest when she thought of Shane with that dark haired girl from earlier. She got back up and crossed the room to add another log to the glowing embers of the fireplace while Neona talked with Shane.

  Satisfied the fire was going to take off, Star sat back down and waited for Neona to finish the call. Neona added a few more things to the list before she said goodbye to Shane. She handed the list and the phone to Star. "Shane insisted on going with you to Hannibal tomorrow. He said to tell you he'll be here first thing in the morning."

  Star felt her pulse speed up, and she thought about protesting, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself over the discomfort she felt being around him.

  "Will his girlfriend be joining us for Thanksgiving?" Star asked.

  Neona frowned and gave Star a curious look. "Girlfriend? I don't think he has one."

  "Oh. I was just wondering," Star said, shifting in her chair. "I saw him talking to some girl before I left work tonight. They seemed to be...friendly."

  "What did she look like?" Neona asked.

  "Big eyes, long dark hair, whiney voice," she said, hoping she didn't sound too snarky with her description.

  Neona rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly back and forth. "That sounds like Kelsey. They're not together anymore. Though I have a feeling Kelsey would like to believe otherwise."

  Star hoped she had misread the situation. She felt like a jealous teenager and mentally chastised herself for overreacting and making the assumption. Hopefully, he hadn't noticed her odd behavior. "Pretty girl," Star commented offhandedly.

  "Pfft. The girl's a tramp," Neona said.

  Star snorted, and quickly covered her mouth, pretending she had something stuck in her throat. She smiled at Neona and told her she was going to take a shower and read for a while.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was early, and Star felt too antsy to sit still and read, so she walked over to the closet. She scowled as she rifled through her meager wardrobe. She didn't own a lot of nice things, and she'd left a lot of her belongings behind in West Memphis. The last thing she'd been thinking about when she packed was dressing to impress someone.

  Most of her wardrobe was comprised of ill-fitting, dark-colored clothes that were about as stylish as a gunny sack.

  Derek had given her certain guidelines about what she could -- and could not -- wear outside their house. One time when she was on her way out the door headed for work, he stepped in front of her, blocking the way. "Where the fuck you think you're going?"

  She flinched at the angry tone of his voice and wondered what had set him off this time. "I'm going to work," she told him. She tried to stay calm. He liked to intimidate her, and the more fear she showed, the more he toyed with her. He got some sort of sick satisfaction out of playing a game of cat and mouse with her.

  "Not looking like some three dollar hooker you're not. Go wash that shit off your face and find something else to wear," he ordered through clenched teeth. His eyes were dark and filled with menace.

  Star knew better than to argue with him, so she
hurriedly scrubbed off the makeup and changed into something completely unflattering. He glanced up as she walked into the kitchen, and she turned in a circle for his approval. His jaw muscle twitched, and he nodded. "That's better."

  When she got home from the bar that night, he'd gotten rid of most of the clothes she'd considered nice or attractive. He informed her that he'd thrown all of her "whore clothes" in the dumpster. That was when she stopped caring about her appearance. It was easier to keep her mouth shut and comply than argue and risk getting backhanded.

  She laid out a clean pair of jeans and a cream color sweater. It wasn't much, but it was the best she could come up with for now. She combed her fingers through her wavy locks and decided to see if Ami could fit her in for a haircut sometime before Thanksgiving.

  She opened the top dresser drawer and pulled out her cell phone. She turned it on and smiled softly when she noticed a text message from Taylor: Glad u made it to Iowa. Miss u! xoxo

  The message, no matter how simple, put a sentimental lump inside her throat. She swallowed hard and thought about the fun they used to have working together. He was the only part of that life she still thought about -- in a good way, and she missed him.

  She tossed the phone on to the bed next to the clothes she planned to wear the next day and pulled on her ratty old nightgown. She crawled into the large bed and propped her Kindle up on the extra pillow beside hers.

  ***

  Shane was anything but tired at the end of his shift. The run-in with Kelsey had left him pissed off and too keyed up to think about sleep. Even though it was cold, he decided to go for a ride on his motorcycle. He ran up to his apartment and grabbed his leather jacket and gloves. He kicked off his Nikes, pulled on his boots, and wrapped a long, bright blue scarf around his neck, tucking the ends inside his coat before zipping it up. Satisfied that he was sufficiently bundled, he went out to where his bike was parked and strapped on his helmet.