What The Heart Finds

by Gadziala, Jessica

  She slipped into the pair of flip-flops she had packed for the inn shower, grabbed her purse, and headed downstairs before she could think any better of it.

  The town was calm, the kids in school and the farmers out in their fields. A few people milled in and out of the diner, but she didn't see anyone she recognized.

  She quickly shuffled across the street and into the market, grabbing a hand cart and stepping inside. It was blissfully empty for once. A young woman was working the check out line, someone she had never seen before. Someone who wouldn't even really knew who she was... even if the rumors had spread.

  Lena grabbed a few basics. Apples, some bread, pasta and tomato sauce, instant oatmeal, and eggs. Her hand cart was full when she rounded the bend into the baking aisle.

  She tried to make herself keep moving. Get out of there as quickly as possible. But, she reasoned with herself, baking was always a good way for her to relax. Throw herself into something. Let the rest of the world fall away. And if there was ever a time when she really needed an escape from reality, it was then.

  She walked up and down the aisle, grabbing various things, then doubling back to grab things she had passed over on the first time. The handle of the basket dug into the skin of her forearm as she kept trying to pile more and more items on top, everything teetering ominously.

  “Yeah,” she heard a voice say from the next aisle over. “Molly came over to clean my house this morning. And she told me that Emily had called a staff meeting over at the inn. Apparently that woman around town, the high-brow looking one with all her business attire, broke into the inn's computer system.”

  Lena felt a dropping in her stomach. She knew she should move, go up to the counter, pay and get out before they saw her. But her feet wouldn't move. A sick, self-loathing part of her needed to hear what they were going to say. She needed to hear how bad her face was going to be covered in mud. If maybe they were going to play it down. Or if they were going to build it up to something monumental.

  “No way,” another voice hissed.

  “Yeah,” the first woman said, her tone firm and authoritative. The first branch in the grapevine. She had all the power. “Emily caught her and threw her out on her sorry butt.”

  “Where did she go?” the other woman asked, thoroughly engaged. “Wasn't her car broken?”

  “No one knows,” the first woman said. “That's the weirdest part. She walked out of the inn and just... disappeared. No one has seen her around this morning. But I saw her car in Eric's shop when he had the door open this morning. So she definitely didn't leave that way.”

  “What could she want in the inn's computer system?”

  Lena could practically hear the woman shrug her shoulder, raise a brow, lean closer. Here came the death blow. “Well... the inn's computer stores all the credit card information for all the guests who have ever stayed there.”

  “Oh my gosh,” the other woman gasped. “She was trying to steal credit card information?”

  The other woman was silent for a moment and Lena heard a few items fall into her cart. “I said the first moment I set eyes on her that she was trouble. With her cheap silk shirts. Who dresses like that on vacation unless they are trying to not look suspicious?”

  Lena started moving toward the top of the aisle.

  Almost out of earshot, she heard the second woman ask, “Did Emily contact the sheriff?”

  Lena froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Did she call the sheriff? Would there be criminal repercussions for her actions?

  “Not yet I don't think. She's having someone over to work on the computer. See if she managed to access the credit records before they bother Aiden.”

  Lena took a deep, shaky breath, moving up to the register and quickly throwing her items up on the belt. She bagged her own things, hoping to cut down on long it would take as the woman leisurely scanned her items. But even when she was only half way through, she heard the women start making their way to the register.

  Her chest got tight as she brushed her hair out from behind her ear, letting the strands mask her face from view. At least she didn't look like herself. She wouldn't as easily be recognized out of her usual clothes, with her hair pinned back, with her heels. As long as she didn't look at them, maybe they wouldn't notice.

  “What is this world coming to?” the second woman asked, putting a partition behind Lena's groceries. “I mean... we have never had to worry about thieves and criminals around here before.”

  “I know. It's scary. You cant trust anyone anymore. They don't even look like criminals anymore. That girl walking around here with a stick up her butt like she was better than all of us. Meanwhile she's trying to rob us all blind.”

  Lena was reaching into her wallet when she saw motion a few feet behind the check-out girl. She glanced up automatically, seeing Hank the friendly grocer there. He looked at her for a split second like he was shocked to see her. Then his eyes went sad, disappointed. He shook his head at her then lowered his gaze to the floor.

  Humiliated, Lean turned back to the cashier, handing her all the money she had in her wallet with shaking hands. Which was at least three times what her total came up to. She quickly grabbed her bags, scrambling to get them all in her arms as fast as possible.

  She felt her face getting red, ashamed, embarrassed.

  The loaf of bread in one bag slipped, falling to the floor. The woman behind her reached for it, picked it up and held it out. “Here, honey, you dropped...” Lena turned to reach for it, and the woman's eyes went wide. “Oh my god,” she gasped.

  The other woman, the gossip-bearer, arched a perfect eyebrow. “That's her,” she said, her voice full of accusation.

  Lena left the bread, turning and moving as quickly as possible toward the exit. “Miss... you forgot your change...” she heard the frazzled-sounding cashier yell out before the other women started to tell her the story.

  Lena ducked her head, feeling the tears well up again. What was she thinking? Of course people had found out. She hadn't even considered the rest of the inn staff. A part of her had figured Emily wasn't really the kind to spread viscous gossip. And she really didn't think Devon would even believe it. But then there was Alec. And the servers. The kitchen staff. And then, apparently, there was the maid Molly. Who did private house cleaning as well.

  The gossip wasn't the worst part. She had dealt with more than her fair share of gossip along the way. The nasty girls at her school who made fun of her for being a nerd, who accused her father of being a drug dealer, her mother a junkie and whore. There had been the dorm parties where everyone called her a frigid bitch. Then, worse yet, the grown women at work.

  In her experience, the grown women were always the worst. She had heard all kinds of accusations flying at EM Corp when she had first been hired. Because she didn't have experience. Just a degree and a pretty face. There were the stories about being Elliott's long lost sister. Which was absolutely absurd given the significant difference in appearance. And when that one died down, there was the one about her being in a lesbian relationship with Hannah. Or in a polyamorous relationship with both Elliott and Hannah. Of which there were numerous sordid, vivid tales about their sexual proclivities.

  It wasn't the gossip. It was the look Hank had given her. A look that didn't have a trace of anger, but was dripping with betrayal.

  Lena crossed the street without checking first, getting out to the middle and almost being hit by big pick-up truck. She turned her head, her heart dropping. There in the front seat was Sam. And Anna. And there was a strange disbelief in their eyes that said they knew. She looked away, tears starting to run down her cheeks as she ran the rest of the way back toward the garage.

  “Hey,” Eric's voice called as she almost ran into him. His hands went to her shoulders, holding her still. “Where's the fire?” Lena took a few deep breaths, trying to blink furiously through the tears. “Lena,” he said, his tone soft. “Why are you crying baby?�
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  Lena blinked harder. “I'm not crying,” she objected, not convincingly.

  He lifted a brow at her, knowing she was lying, but not calling her on it. “Not impressed with my food selection, huh?”

  Lena sniffled once, feeling her lip quirk up. “I was considering making a butter and yogurt sandwich.”

  “Those are the best,” Eric smiled, reaching for the bags. He followed her up the steps and into the kitchen, dropping all the bags on the island. “You sure you're alright?” he asked, watching her move methodically around the kitchen, putting things away in his almost empty cabinets.

  He hadn't ever considered before what it would be like to have a woman around before. Walking around his kitchen like she knew it. Like she belonged there just as much as he did. He tried to stifle the thought that it was actually a pretty nice thing to witness.

  “I'm fine,” she said, tears still clinging to her eyelashes.

  “Darlin',” he said, smirking. “if there is one thing I have learned from being around women, it's that when a woman says she's 'fine'... nothing could be further from the truth.”

  “Okay,” Lena said, turning away from him to put the eggs in the fridge. “then I am resplendent. How about that?”

  “You're a horrible liar is what you are,” he said, coming around the island, pulling the flour out of her hands, and wrapping his arms around her from behind. Lena was in his arms with her back arrow-straight, barely touching his body. Eric chuckled in her ear. “Just let me hold you for a minute, woman,” he said, his tone teasing.

  Lena sank back against him, admittedly enjoying his calm strength. His warm breath toying with the hair on the side of her head. His fingers pressed hard against her belly. His arms tightened suddenly, holding her roughly, almost painfully for a second before letting her go.

  Lena fell forward slightly, feeling more than a bit disappointed when she felt Eric grab her hips and turn her, pushing her hard up against the counter with his body. His hips slammed up against hers and she could feel his erection, hard and insistent. Lena closed her eyes, wiggling her hips against his, drawing a tense groan out of Eric.

  His lips went to hers then, pressing into hers hard, punishing. Lena sighed, opening her mouth to him, tilting her head back, letting him overtake her completely.

  His hands slid down her body, touching the sides of her breasts for a long minute before dipping lower, cupping her ass and pulling her upward, suspended in the air for one unbelievable second before dropping her onto the island counter top.

  Lena's hands went out behind her, shoving the groceries away, before her hands went to his waist, slipping up under his shirt and touching the muscles of his belly. They tensed slightly underneath her fingertips and Eric's teeth bit into her lip.

  His hands moved from where they were settled on her thighs, reaching between them and stroking her heat trough her thin sweatpants material. Lena groaned, sinking her fingers into the sides of his hips. His fingers slid upward, moving quick circles around her clit. Her thighs went up, begging for more. Her arms slapped down on the counter behind her, steadying her, moving her upper body away from his. Eric's eyes sought hers, deep and aroused. His free hand slid up her belly, grabbing one of her breasts and teasing the sensitive point.

  Lena's head fell back, her hips moving against his hands, begging for more. Eric's hand moved away then, moving up toward the waistband of her jeans and starting to sneak under. His fingers got to the part of her skin where there should have been panties before he stopped, leaning forward and laughing humorlessly.

  “What?” she asked, sitting up straight, feeling self-conscious.

  Eric pulled his hand out of her pants, shaking his head. He moved away from her, holding up his hand for her to see. It was covered in some kind of dried black grime.

  “Oh,” she breathed out for a second, feeling her body's insistent throbbing need for a second before she burst out laughing, throwing her head back for a second. “Of course,” she said, looking him in the eye, seeing the amused set to his face.

  “I'll go wash up,” he said, his tone half-amused, half-turned on.

  “No,” she said, smiling. She slid off the counter, her heat brushing up against his hardness, sending a shock of awareness down her core. But she stood up, moving past him, shaking her head. “You go back to work. I have to put groceries away.”

  “Baby,” he groaned, his tone pleading. “you're killing me.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling devilishly. “Then maybe you should make sure your hands are clean... before you start groping someone.”

  Eric laughed, the sound deep and sensual. “Point taken,” he conceded, moving back toward the door.

  He went halfway down the stairs, dropping down on one and putting his head in his hands. She really was driving him crazy. It was hard enough to try to handle himself around her when he had to go out of his way to get to her. But having her right there in his house, wearing his clothes, without anything underneath... Eric sighed.

  It was an unexpected turn of events.

  The last thing he had expected when he went downstairs that morning was Lena sitting there. Curled up into herself against the wall with all of her belongings with her. And when she had looked up with her devastated, tear-stained face, her puffy, defeated eyes... he had never felt such a surge of protectiveness as he did then. Every bit of him wanted to lock her away and stand guard, keeping whatever was hurting her as far away as possible.

  But there was no protecting her from herself. From her own ambition. From her demanding boss. From her absurd mission for being in Stars Landing.

  It would be okay. One day the truth would come out about Elliott, and everyone would have a laugh, roll their eyes, and say love made people do crazy things. It would blow over. But when? Certainly not before he got her car fixed and she ran the hell out of there and never looked back.

  And there where would he be?

  Eric shook his head, standing up. What the hell did he mean where would be be? He would be right there, where he always was, looking for another woman to chase around.

  A nagging voice in the back of his mind started whispering about things never being the same. A voice which he was trying his best to ignore.

  Maybe he should talk to Emily himself, explain what was really going on. She would still be fuming. But not at Lena. She would be furious that someone was trying to buy her inn out from under her. But maybe if he spoke to her, the awkwardness could be avoided. Lena would be furious though, and he pushed the idea away.

  And, he guessed from the way she looked coming back from the market, maybe things had already started to spiral out of control. He walked out of the garage, going straight for Hank's store, curious to see if he could catch any of what it was that made her so upset.

  It didn't take more than a minute or two for him to start hearing the stories. How she was a criminal. How she tried too hard to cover it up with all her “rich bitch” clothes. How she had somehow conned Eric into taking her in. Probably whoring herself for a place to stay.”

  Eric walked into the aisle, finding a small group of ladies talking in a semi-circle. “Ladies,” he said, raising a brow, his mouth set in a severe frown. “retract your claws,” he warned and they looked over at him with guilty faces. “or maybe some new... very very private rumors will start flying around this town,” he said, his eyes meeting a few of theirs meaningfully. “Don't talk about shit you know nothing about,” he said, walking toward the exit. He saw Hank standing by the door, his face a mix of surprise and confusion. “I expected better from you,” Eric said, passing him by without looking at him.

  Sixteen

  Eric went to work on her car once he got back, throwing himself into work, trying to forget about the small-mindedness in the town. How do you go from a possible identity crime issue to assuming someone was prostituting themselves for a place to stay? How does the mind jump around like that?

&n
bsp; No wonder Lena had looked so upset when she had run into him. If she had caught any of the lies that were flying around, it wasn't going to sit well on her no matter how much she tried to deny her feelings.

  He wondered where that defense mechanism came from. Was it some kind of shield she learned in childhood? She'd told him that she had grown up in a bad area with druggies all around. Maybe she had needed to come off as hard and emotionless to get through.

  Or maybe it was because of work. Working at Elliott's company was demanding and relentless. He had heard the stories about how hard Hannah had worked when she had first started there, practically living at the office, barely sleeping. And Lena had plans on moving up in the company. Which must have required a huge amount of discipline and commitment. Maybe there just wasn't any room left for emotions.

  Around dinnertime, he gave up on the car for the day and made his way up the stairs, figuring he had given her enough time to pull herself together. He stood outside the door for a moment, hearing music. Eric smiled at the closed door. She had found his record player and put it on to the radio on some top-forty station, the music throbbing and upbeat.

  Curious, he pushed the door open. Lena was in the kitchen, her back to him, arms wrapped around a bowl, stirring the contents. She was moving her hips around in sexy little circles, his pants slipping low on her hips, revealing an inch of skin between her shirt and the waistband. Her hair was pulled back in a careless loose ponytail, bouncing around as she danced. And, he realized, smiling broadly, leaning against the door jam, she was singing. Loud and slightly off key, but utterly charming... lost in her own little world.

  He stood watching as the song slowly died down and the radio personality started talking. He watched her put down the bowl and reach for a pan underneath the oven and cleared his throat quietly.