The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants (6 page)

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 comfortably 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 tomorrow."

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.

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.

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 but. "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.