The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants (8 page)

Star slept fitfully for the rest of the night. Something about seeing a grown man weeping like a baby had been disconcerting for her. She worried about how she was going to face him.
Would it be awkward? Would he be embarrassed? Or more importantly, would she
?

Just before sunrise, she abandoned the idea of getting any more sleep, and climbed from the bed. She gathered her clothes for a long, hot shower. She hoped the hot water would dislodge the myriad of inappropriate thoughts. Fantasies about what she wanted to do to -- and with -- Shane had started to march through her sleep-deprived brain, as well as her sex-starved libido.

Star knew Shane was too young for anything more than a casual fling. He'd barely begun to live his life, and in her thirty years, she'd already lived enough for both of them. There was an undeniable attraction, she couldn't dispute that. Holding him, comforting him, as she had just a few short hours ago left her craving more of his touch.

She gritted her teeth and turned up the water temperature as she scrubbed her body.
Why are the men I'm attracted to always wrong for me? Maybe I need to let myself be interested in a smart, science guy with a big brain for a change. An age appropriate one, preferably.

After her shower, she wiped the fog from the mirror and studied her tired face. She smoothed the skin around her eyes, wondering how much a facelift would set her back. A close-up inspection revealed more than a couple new gray hairs had sprouted, seemingly overnight, as well.

"Are you going to be much longer?" Shane's muffled voice asked from the other side of the bathroom door, causing her to jump.

"Just a few more minutes, sorry," she answered. She hurriedly dried off and scrambled into her clothes. When she opened the door, he sat on the floor facing her, his back against the wall. He gave her a lopsided, mischievous grin, and warmth pooled inside of her. She smiled back and said, "Sorry, I guess I kind of lost track of time."

"No worries. As long as there's some hot water left, I don't mind." He held his hand out to her. "Help me up, Blue."

She tugged him to his feet, and when he squeezed her hand affectionately she tingled all over.
Holy hell, is it wrong that I want to do him right here in the hallway
? Her mouth became dry, and she licked her lips. His eyes followed the flick of her tongue. "All yours," she said hoarsely and quickly went back to her room.

She couldn't be sure, it may have been her imagination, but she could have sworn she heard him say, "I wish," before he disappeared into the bathroom.

The hot shower combined with the hallway encounter had left Star overheated. She fanned herself and sat on the corner of her bed. If he had remembered having the nightmare, or her rocking him back to sleep afterwards, it wasn't evident in the playful smile he'd given her. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Was she disappointed that he hadn't remembered or relieved?

Star finished getting ready and went downstairs to make a pot of coffee, but was surprised to find Michael standing in the kitchen already brewing a pot. He turned toward her when she walked in and greeted her with a nod. She smiled politely and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.

Michael leaned against the counter, appraising her through watchful eyes. His scrutiny put her on edge, and she wondered what was going through his head. After he poured a cup, he went back to his position by the counter and stared at her. "It's none of my business what you've done in the past, as long as it wasn't illegal or you're not running from the law," he spoke, finally breaking the tense silence between them. "However, since you're staying here, in Neona's house, and you appeared out of nowhere, I took the liberty of running a background check on you."

"Of course you did," Star said. She felt her heart pounding the blood through her veins. "I'm not running. Not from the law, anyway."

"I understand that. I also know that when you lived in West Memphis, the local police department had been dispatched to your residence on several occasions for domestic disturbances. Does that sound about right?"

Star wrapped her hands around the coffee cup and stared into the dark liquid. "Yes."

"I also understand this man you lived with, Derek Baldwin, is a pretty unsavory character with a whole list of priors -- attempted rape, aggravated assault, drug possession, you name it -- and at one time or another he's been arrested for, or suspected of, something illegal," Michael rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the irritation creeping up his spine. "Frankly, I'm amazed. Of a couple of things, actually. One, is that he's not locked up somewhere, and two, that he let you leave without a fight."

Star took a deep breath and puffed out her cheeks, exhaling slowly. "He didn't
let me
do anything."

Michael's eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline. "How's that?"

"I slipped him a little something to…um…help him sleep and then I left," she admitted.

"I see." Michael sighed. "Any chance he'll come looking for you?"

"Probably. But there'd be no reason for him to look for me in Red Vale. Anyone who knows me believes I'm in Iowa right now."

Michael opened his mouth to say more, but he stopped himself when Shane walked into the room.

Star felt the color drain from her face. She hoped he hadn't overheard her and Michael's conversation. She wasn't ready for him to know what a lowlife loser she'd been living with or anything else about her less than pristine past.

"Morning, Michael," Shane's eyes darted between the two, "is this an official visit?"

"Nope, just checking in on Neona this morning," Michael told him as he pushed away from the counter, refilled his cup, and made his way out of the room.

Shane watched him leave before turning back to Star. "Ya know what? I like that guy, but when he goes all official, he annoys the shit out of me," he said. "You okay?"

Star forced a smile and nodded. "I'm fine. How are
you
doing this morning?"

His brow furrowed and he cocked his head. "Me? I'm fine. Some reason I shouldn't be?"

She decided not to bring up the whole nightmare scene and shrugged. "No, no reason."

Shane grinned and rubbed his hands together excitedly. "So, are you looking forward to spending the day with me?" he asked, waving his hand down the front of his body. "Because have you seen me? I just hope you can handle all this hotness."

Star spit the mouthful of coffee back into her cup and laughed. "So modest, too."

How was it even possible for him to put her at ease while at the same time twisting her insides into pretzel-like knots? She didn't know, but she liked it…she liked him.

The drive to Hannibal started out with an awkward silence, until Shane broke the ice. "About last night," he started.

Star's fingers tightened around the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.
Here it comes
, she thought. "What about last night?"

"There's nothing going on between Kelsey and me," he blurted.

She hadn't expected that and glanced sideways at him. "Kelsey?" she asked.

"The girl who was talking to me at the store last night when you ran out of the place like a scalded cat," he said.

"I did
not
run out!" she huffed, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Whatever," he paused, "Kelsey and I had a thing once. But she wasn't as much fun after I stopped drinking. I got clean. She didn't. Now, she just annoys the fuck out of me. I've told her I'm not interested, but, I guess she knew a good thing when she had it."

Star laughed. "You are
so
conceited, you know that, right?"

Shane shrugged his shoulders. "Nah, I'm not really. I just like messing with you. I figure if I tell you how great I am, you'll agree with me, eventually."

"Keep telling yourself that," she said. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and decided if he wanted to talk about the nightmare, he'd have to be the one to bring the subject up. She made up her mind not to mention anything. It was probably an isolated incident, and he'll be back in his own apartment tonight. No harm, no foul.

"I've got an idea," he said after several moments of silence.

She peeked sideways at him and swore his blue eyes had a devilish glint to them. "I can hardly wait to hear this," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Let's play a game," he offered simply.

"A game? What kind of game?" she asked.

"Let's play twenty-one questions."

"Seriously? You want to play twenty-one questions with me? What if I don't want to answer your questions? Can we do it like truth or dare, so I can choose dare instead of answering something I don't want to answer?"

"That might be even more fun," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Seriously, if I ask something you'd rather not answer, just say 'skip,' and I'll save that one for another time. Same goes for me."

She tucked an unruly chunk of hair behind her ear and thought about the myriad of ways this little game could go places she didn't want to go, yet admittedly, the idea had her intrigued. She
did
want to know more about him. "I guess we can do that. Though I have to warn you, I doubt there are twenty-one
interesting
things about me to tell."

"Let me be the judge of that." He smiled and pointed to the road ahead. "You'll want to take a left up there at the stoplight."

About a bazillion questions invaded her thoughts. The things she wanted to know about him momentarily overrode her fear of the questions he might ask her. She pulled Neona's Jeep into the Super Wal-Mart and parked.

Once inside the store, he chuckled. "Be forewarned. I like to do and say embarrassing things whenever I shop at Wal-Mart. You may never want to go shopping with me again."

"Duly noted," she said. She tugged out a cart and pushed it toward the grocery section, snickering to herself. "I should probably tell
you
, I've been thrown out of three Wal-Marts for that very reason."

They walked side-by-side, tossing items from Neona's list into their shopping cart. "So, about our game of twenty-one questions," Shane said as he studied the packages of pecans. "Personal stuff or random-ass boring shit?"

She tilted her head sideways, contemplating his question. "Define 'random-ass boring shit'."

"You know, like, what's your favorite color?" He threw a large bag of pecan halves into the cart. "Booo-rrring."

"Purple," she said matter-of-factly. "That leaves you twenty more."

"Oh, hell no. That does not count as one of your questions!" Shane protested.

She blew out a noisy breath. "Fine. I don't care what you ask me. If I don't want to answer, I'll just say 'skip.' Or, make something up."

"Not fair. One of the stipulations of the game is that you have to be
completely
honest with your answers. Otherwise, what's the point?" he reasoned.

"Have it your way," she mumbled.

"Glad you're finally seeing things my way," he told her.

As they passed a woman pushing a little boy in her cart, Shane got an evil smirk on his face and said, "That reminds me. Did we need to get some more cucumbers? Because you know, I'm not about to eat the ones we have. Not after what you were using them for."

Not to be outdone, Star said, "That's not what you said last night when you were begging me not to stop."

A grin slid across his face, and he nodded appreciatively at her answer. "Touché," he whispered. He tried, and failed, several more times to catch her off guard and embarrass her while they shopped.

After they had put the groceries into the back of the Jeep and started back toward Red Vale, Shane figured now was time to start with the game.

"Question number one," he said. Star felt his eyes on her, but she kept hers on the road, bracing herself for what he might ask. "I'll make it an easy one. Married, divorced, or single?"

"Single," she answered.

The corner of his mouth twisted into a dimple producing grin. "Good to know. Now, it's your turn."

"Hmm." She tapped her finger on her chin and told him, "There are so many things I'd like to know. It's only twenty-one questions, and I don't want to waste any. But I'll give you an easy one to start with. How old are you?"

"How old do you want me to be?" he said.

"Here's another rule. No answering the questions with a question," she said.

"I'm twenty-one. Just like the number of questions," he said with an exaggerated wink. "Old enough to be legal in all fifty states."

When they got home and were in the middle of putting away the groceries, Star felt her vibrating in the pocket of her jeans. She grinned at the text from Taylor:
I miss my Stelly. Hope you're doing well.

Shane eyed her curiously and asked, "Good news?"

"Just a friend saying hi," she said.

Shane retrieved his phone from his coat and asked, "What's your number?"

"Why do you want my number?"

"So I can be the one to put a smile on that pretty face of yours," he told her. His eyes locked with hers, and she blushed under their heat. She recited her number while he added it to his phone. A few seconds later her phone vibrated with a text. Her face turned an even darker shade of red when she read his words:
I could think of better ways to make u smile, but this'll do 4 now.

"I think you just like embarrassing me," she teased as she stored his number, bringing her total number of saved contacts to two.

"Just being honest," he said as he rearranged the contents of the fridge to accommodate the turkey they'd bought.

"Are you going to take the pie making stuff home with you?" she asked.

"No." He put his hands on his hips, and stared at her. "You've seen my apartment. The kitchen isn't exactly Paula Deen approved for making much of anything. You'll just have to share this kitchen with me Thanksgiving morning.

Star found a piece of paper and a pen and sat down at the table to make her list of twenty-one questions to ask him.

She felt his presence behind her. It was uncanny the way the room's energy literally became electrified whenever he entered. She quickly slid her hand over what she'd been writing. "No fair! No peeking!" she chastised.

"How'd you know I was looking?" he complained.

"I'm psychic."

"Right." He chuckled and took a seat across from her. He asked her for an extra sheet of paper and started his own list. She wasn't sure how he was able to get anything written down with as much gawking at her as he was doing. Not that she was complaining.

They sat in silence, madly scribbling questions on their scraps of paper. "I've got fifteen so far." She tapped the pen against her lips. "How many do you have?"

He held up his left hand and continued to finish writing his thought on the page. "Twenty-one!" he shouted and slammed the pen down on the table.

A bubble of laughter escaped her. She couldn't help it. He had that effect on her. He made her feel like a teenager again. "I didn't realize it was a competition. If I had, I would have
so
beaten you."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and the corner of his mouth tipped into a wicked smirk. "Beaten me? Really? Blue, have you been holding out on me? You're
kinky
? I like that in a woman."

Her jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered her composure and drew a line through one of the questions. "That answers that one," she told him mischievously.

He burst into laughter over her quick wit. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"You're not so bad yourself," she admitted shyly. She pointed to his paper. "You first."

"What did you dream about becoming when you grew up?" he asked, studying her face intently. "You know, like a ballerina, or nurse, or something?"

Without hesitation, she replied, "A rock star."

"You're a good singer?"

She snorted, "Oh, God no. I can't carry a tune...which is probably why I never became famous. What about you, what did you want to be?" she asked.
Besides hot
.

All traces of happy drained from his face, and he sighed. "A rocket scientist." Star's eyes widened at his flippant response. It wasn't a joke -- his face was void of humor. "Actually, I was supposed to go to college to study astronomy."

"What happened? Why didn't you go?" she asked.

"Skip. Besides, it's my turn. You aren't allowed to ask two in a row."

She picked up her pen and added that question to the bottom of the list. "Okay, next," she told him.

"How many tattoos do you have?" he asked.

"Two," she said. She pushed up her shirt sleeve and pointed to the blue planet on the back of her hand. "You've seen Neptune."

"Okay, look, this doesn't count as one of my questions. But I'm dying here. What's the other tattoo, and where is it?" he asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"It's over my heart, and it's just a saying," she said, patting her chest with her right hand.

"What saying?"

She bit her lip and replied, "
The heart knows what the heart wants."

"Beautiful." He spoke the word so softly, she wasn't sure he'd said it at all. He pushed back his chair and stood. His eyes held hers for a few seconds longer. She fascinated him, and he couldn't get enough of her. "I've got to go home and clean my apartment. I've got company coming over later, and I don't want her to think I'm a complete slob."

Star felt as though she'd swallowed a bowling ball.
He has a date
? "Oh. Well yeah. You wouldn't want her to think
that
," she said. She hoped the disappointment she felt didn't show on her face.

He reached out, cupped her cheek with his hand, and brushed the pad of his thumb across her skin. "What time should I expect you?" he asked.

Surprised, she chewed on her bottom lip before raising her eyes to meet his. "Six?"

He nodded. "Six it is." He smiled and turned to leave.