The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants Page 10

  She washed her hands and glanced over her shoulder at him. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Neither have I. I mean, I never met my dad either."

  "Neona says he was around when I was a baby, but I don't remember anything about him. I think my mom hoped he'd come back home one day," he said quietly. He shook his head and snorted. "I'm not even sure he even knows she's dead."

  Star pulled out a chair and sat across the table from him. "I'm an illegitimate love child of an affair that's lasted thirty-two-years. The sperm donor lives up in Chicago with his wife and kids. He knows about me, he did help out financially while I was growing up, but as far as being a real dad? Yeah. Not so much."

  Shane reached over and rested his hand against her cheek. "Guess neither of our dads will be candidates for the Father of the Year award, huh?"

  "Probably not." She stood and reached for the sack of potatoes.

  ***

  Neona made her way into the kitchen to oversee the progress of Thanksgiving dinner preparations. "You're looking much better this morning, Aunt Neona," Shane commented cheerfully. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  "Thanks," she said. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and her attention drifted lazily over to the counter where Star had started to scrub the potatoes. "Everything sure smells delicious. Now that I'm not taking those damn pain killers, I might actually be able to eat more than a couple bites."

  Shane pulled out a chair for Neona to sit. He took her crutches from her and leaned them against the wall. He bent down and scooped a prancing Chili Dog into his arms. "Come on, Blue, take a break with me. Let's go for a walk."

  Star looked at him as though he'd suddenly sprouted a third eye. "It's raining."

  He leaned to the side and peered out the window over her shoulder. "It's just a little drizzle. I'm sure Neona has an umbrella. Right, Aunt Neona?"

  "By the front door," she said. She turned toward Star, who was peeling potatoes. "Bring those things over here, let me do something. I'm not completely helpless, you know."

  Star opened her mouth to protest, until she saw that she was outnumbered and decided it would do her some good to get out of the house for a while. The fresh air, no matter how soggy, would be a nice diversion, as would a little exercise. She sighed and said, "Fine. I guess I could use a break."

  As Star and Shane stood just inside the front door, Ami arrived with her husband Paul in tow. Paul held the door open and asked, "Where are you two off to?"

  "Taking Chili Dog for a walk around the block," Shane told him as he pulled the umbrella from the stand in the entryway.

  Paul waited for Ami to get out of earshot before turning back to Shane. "Care if I join you?" he whispered.

  Shane laughed knowingly and whispered, "Need a smoke?"

  He nodded and called out to his wife, "Ami? Be back in a few minutes, precious."

  "Don't think I don't know that you're just sneaking off to have a cigarette, Paul," Ami hissed.

  Star bit her lip to stifle a giggle, and grabbed Chili Dog's leash from the hook by the door. She fastened it to the little dog's collar before extending her hand toward Paul. "Hi, I'm Star. I've heard so much about you," she told him.

  "Don't believe everything Ami says about me," he said, shaking her hand. "She liked me better before she got pregnant."

  Shane popped open the umbrella as soon as they were out on the front porch. "Your dad joining us for dinner?" he asked Paul.

  "Sheriff Mike had to work this morning. Duty calls, you know." Paul rolled his eyes. "He said he'd swing by later for leftovers."

  Shane reached for Star's hand, and she didn't resist. "Paul is Michael's son, you knew that, right?" he asked her.

  She remembered learning that fact at one time or another and nodded in response. A happy feeling of warmth pooled inside of her, and she decided liked the natural way Shane's strong fingers felt as they intertwined with hers. It was comforting to her.

  They took a quick stroll around the block, before cutting back through the alley across the street. Star noticed her old Honda was still sitting lifeless by the side of the repair shop. "Hey, Paul, I hear you work at a dealership up in Hannibal," she said.

  Paul took a deep drag from his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby puddle. "I do. Why?"

  "Think you could help me find a cheap, used car? It doesn't have to be anything fancy," she asked.

  Shane felt queasy. He had sort of liked knowing that for now, Star was stuck in Red Vale. It hadn't occurred to him that she might actually want to leave. She had a job, a roof over her head, and, as far as he knew, she didn't have anywhere pressing to be.

  Painful questions buzzed unwelcome through his brain like annoying mosquitoes: Had she changed her mind about running away from West Memphis? Had she decided she wanted to go back there? Was someone special waiting for her up in Iowa? Or had she decided she'd reacted rashly and should never have left in the first place?

  Paul suggested a couple cars he thought might be just what she was looking for. They talked back and forth, discussing the particulars while Shane zoned out, distracted by the assumptions spinning round his mind.

  "Shane?" Star repeated and tugged on his hand.

  "I'm sorry, did you say something?" Shane cleared his throat and asked.

  Star rolled her eyes at him. "I wondered if you'd like to ride along with me tomorrow to check out a car."

  He gave her a forced smile and said, "Sure. I can do that."

  "Great, it's settled then." She beamed up at him, grateful for his friendship, even though she was more attracted to him than she had ever been another man. Dammit, why does he have to be ten years younger than me?! And do I really care?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Shane was uncharacteristically subdued over dinner. Star's attempt at conversation with him had been met with false smiles and single word responses. She could tell something was bothering him, though she couldn't imagine what it might be. He'd been off since they'd returned from their walk. You're just being paranoid.

  After everyone finished eating, Star began clearing the dining room table and carried the dishes into the kitchen. "Shane, why don't you come help me with the pie?" she coaxed.

  He lifted his eyes to hers and nodded once. "Okay."

  She was curious as to why he was acting so distant. Once in the kitchen, she turned to him and asked, "Is everything okay?"

  "Hmm?" he mumbled, reaching into the cupboard for dessert plates.

  "Shane, what's going on with you? You've been acting weird since we came back from our walk with Paul," she asked.

  Shane planted both hands on the counter and tried to put his random thoughts into words that wouldn't make him sound like a total fool. He peered sideways at her. "Why do you need a car?"

  "Seriously?" She laughed. When she caught that he wasn't smiling, she grew quiet.

  "Nothing, never mind." He backed away from the counter and raked his hands through his silky hair. "It's none of my business where you go."

  She reached for him, surprised by his reaction. "Hey, listen to me. I'm not going anywhere. I need a car so I don't have to rely on using Neona's Jeep every time I want to go someplace. She'll eventually be driving again, and one of us would wind up stranded. I just thought having my own wheels was the logical thing to do."

  He gripped her by the waist and pulled her against him. "You mean you aren't planning to leave Red Vale and go back to West Memphis? Or on up to Iowa?"

  She tipped her chin up, fixated on his full lips, and licked her own. The breath left her lungs as she fantasized about kissing him. "No, of course not. I kind of like it here," she said, her voice filled with emotion.

  His mouth was a hair's width away from hers when a throat cleared behind them.

  "Umm yeah. Don't mind me. Just getting some coffee," Paul apologized.

  Star stepped out of Shane's embrace and tugged nervously at the bottom of her sweater. "No worries. I'll find out what kind of pie everyone wants. Be right
back." She spun around and bolted from the suddenly too cramped kitchen.

  Paul shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "Sorry bro," he said.

  Shane pursed his lips and shook his head. "So close," he muttered.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  It was after ten before Ami and Paul left to go home. Michael came by and joined Neona to watch a movie. Shane took Chili Dog out to potty while Star finished washing the remaining pots and pans that wouldn't fit in the dishwasher.

  When Shane came back into the kitchen, he carried his guitar, and his mouth tipped into a half-smirk. "Come on, Blue. Let's learn that love song."

  She shook her head and chuckled. "How did you manage to carry that guitar with you on your motorcycle?"

  "Skills. I've got a lot of mad skills." He winked at her. "You didn't think I made it this far in life by my good looks alone, did you?"

  She bit her lip and shook her head. "Your self-confidence never ceases to amaze me. Are you always so cocky and self-assured in everything you do?"

  He brushed the back of his knuckles lightly against her cheek. "Not always, no," he whispered.

  She clasped her hand around his and squeezed. "Let's go upstairs."

  He grinned lasciviously at her. "Yeah, the bedrooms are up there."

  She tugged her hand free of his and swatted him playfully. "You've got such a one-track mind."

  He feigned shock and slapped his chest over his heart. "You wound me, Blue."

  "Oh, whatever. Are you really that sensitive?" she laughed.

  A smirk crossed his face, and he hunched his shoulders up to his ears. "It's my biggest weakness. One of them anyway." He tugged her behind him as he strode purposefully toward the open staircase.

  She trotted along, giggling like a young girl. "You're crazy!"

  He stopped abruptly, sending her crashing into his back. He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Why? What have you heard?"

  Her eyes went wide. "What? Nothing!"

  He broke into riotous laughter. "Gotcha! Wow. The look on your face? Priceless."

  "You suck," she mumbled.

  He stopped outside the door to her room. She lifted her attention to stare into his sparkling blue eyes. So full of unspoken words, she saw herself reflected in their dark pools, giving her a fluttery feeling inside. "You trust me, right?" he asked.

  I trust you. It's me, I have doubts about. Like how I want to undress you whenever we're within five feet of one another. "Of course," she said with a grin.

  He sat down on the corner of the bed and patted the comforter beside him. "Sit," he ordered. She pushed up her sweater sleeves and sat down. He handed her the guitar. "I know it probably feels awkward in your hands right now, but the more you handle it, the more it will seem like second nature to you. Don't be afraid of it. Grip it like you mean it."

  Star felt a flood of color heat her face. Her thoughts were in the gutter and she wrestled with herself to get her mind back on the task at hand. "Guitar. Right. Grip it like I mean it. Got it."

  There was a catch in her voice, and his eyes moved from her hands up to her flushed face. His eyebrows shot up, disappearing behind wisps of silky hair. "You're blushing again," he said softly.

  "Thank you Captain Obvious," she said in an attempt to dispel the sexual tension with a little humor.

  There was no denying the chemistry between them. Shane knew it, and Star tried not to think about it. He cleared his throat and pulled his lips between his teeth in an effort to keep from grinning. He cleared his throat and said, "Yeah. Anyway. Do you remember any of the chords I showed you?"

  She could barely remember her name at the moment, but she nodded slowly. "I think so."

  He chuckled. "So, what love song did you want to learn?"

  She tipped her head and glanced sideways at him. "That's the title of the song."

  His eyebrows pinched together. "Okay. You lost me there, Blue."

  "Do you know who Harry Chapin was?" she asked while she strummed the guitar.

  "Yeah, I know some of his stuff. Why?"

  Star avoided the intensity of his hooded eyes and told him the story. "Harry Chapin met his wife, Sandy Cashmore, when she'd called to ask him to teach her how to play the guitar. They married two years later. Chapin told the story of their meeting and romance in his song, 'I Wanna Learn a Love Song.'"

  "She was older than he was, if I remember correctly," he said, clearly proud of himself for remembering reading about that somewhere. "So what you're saying is, learning to play the guitar is clearly just a ruse for you to get in my pants?"

  Star's jaw unhinged and she stared at him in disbelief. "Did you really just go there? Really?" She started to set the guitar aside.

  He stayed her with a hand on her arm. His touch seared through her, simmering to her very core. Reminding her again, how badly she wanted to throw caution to the wind and get naked with him. She exhaled noisily, her eyes on his hand. She was sure once he removed it; it was going to leave behind a third degree burn.

  "Please, don't go," he said, his voice thick with desire.

  "I'm not going anywhere," she said and laughed nervously. "It's my room, remember?"

  "I have to admit. You got me there," he said. He reached for the guitar still in her lap and set it aside. He cupped her face in his hands and told her, "I don't want to leave, either. Unless you want me to. Because truthfully, what I'm dying to do is kiss you. So, unless you have any objections, I'm going to do that right now."

  He didn't give her time to respond before his lips crushed against her mouth. Within seconds, her hands curled around his neck, bringing him closer. Their tongues touched in a decadent dance of pleasure and exploration. A soft moan escaped her, encouraging him to pull her down on top of him as he collapsed on the bed.

  Their bodies molded together perfectly. He felt as though he were dying of a thirst that only she could quench. She writhed against him shamelessly, and her hands roamed freely beneath his shirt, up his spine, causing goose bumps to pop everywhere. His nerve endings were on fire, every part of his body alive, aching with want.

  Somewhere at the edges of her fuzzy consciousness, she thought she heard her cell phone ping with an incoming text alert. He reluctantly tore his mouth from hers. "Is that your phone?" he asked breathlessly.

  She fought to rein in her runaway libido and slow her racing heart. "I think so," she panted. She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Separating from him felt physically painful. "It's probably my friend, Taylor, wishing me a happy Thanksgiving."

  He closed his eyes, and a lazy smile slid across his face. "I don't know whether I want to kick his ass or thank him right now."

  Star laughed and walked over to the desk where she'd left her cell phone. When she read the text her blood ran cold. The phone slipped from her hands, and her legs folded beneath her. She crumpled to the floor and tears started to run down her cheeks. She hugged her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

  Shane was off the bed and across the room instantly. He gathered her into his lap and held her against him. "Star? What is it? What's wrong?" She shook her head and buried her face in his chest. He reached for the phone and swiped the screen with his thumb. He stared at the words: U can run bitch, but u can't hide. If I can't have u, no 1 will.

  "What. The. Hell?" he asked through clenched teeth. "Who sent this?"

  She shook her head back and forth and sobbed. "My ex-boyfriend."

  "Shh, shh, it's okay, Blue. He can't hurt you. You're safe here," Shane said.

  She leaned away from him, peering up into his face. "You don't know him like I do. If he was able to get my phone number, how long do you think it will be before he comes looking for me?"

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Against Star's objections, Shane told Michael about the text message. Although she put up a brave front, she didn't feel so confident on the inside. They sat up talking for several hours, and Michael promised he would get in touch with a friend
of his who worked at the West Memphis Police Department. He told Star if he found out anything, he'd let her know.

  Shane squeezed Star's hand and smiled reassuringly. "Come on, it's late. If we're still planning to go car shopping in the morning, we better get some sleep," he told her. She let him take her hand and lead her up the steps.

  She stood sandwiched between him and the bedroom door. Her heart thudded in her chest so hard, she swore he could see it through the fabric of her sweater. She wasn't sure if she was worried he was going to kiss her, or afraid that he wasn't. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. His mouth was set in a grim line. "Get some sleep, Blue. You're safe here"

  "You don't know what Derek is capable of, Shane," she said, hanging her head.

  He tipped her chin so that her eyes met his. "He'll have to go through Michael and me to get to you. That's not going to happen."

  Her eyes filled with tears and she nodded slightly. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning," she whispered. She stood on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips before going into her room. Silently, she willed him to stay with her in her room, but he didn't ask and she wasn't going to beg.

  Star changed into her nightgown and decided sleep was out of the question. She read for a while, hopeful it would make her drowsy. Finally, her eyelids grew heavy, and she reached over to switch off the light. As soon as the room was completely dark, she found herself wide awake again.

  After tossing and turning, she threw off the covers and stuffed her feet into her slippers. Grumbling to herself, she wrapped her robe around her and trudged down the hallway. She stopped outside of Shane's room. "Oh well, what the hell," she mumbled under her breath and eased open the door.

  He was asleep, snoring softly. Had she been the only person sleep had eluded for the night? She hung her robe on the bedpost, kicked off her slippers, and slid between the sheets. He groaned and rolled toward her, his arm flung over her waist, and his bare leg tangled with hers possessively. She hadn't come to his bed to seduce him, or be seduced. She merely wanted the closeness, the unspoken comfort his nearness could offer her.