Page 6

Star bobbed her head. “Right. Anyway, so after the cans came crashing down, these two guys peeked around the end of the aisle. I think they were standing back there the whole time. Just sort of … hanging out. I remember thinking they looked at me like I was either insane or some kind of paint-can monster that had spawned in the middle of the aisle.”

Ethan sat up straighter. “Wait. What exactly did they say?”

“It is on the transcribed recording. One of them asked me what I was doing. And how long I'd been there.” Star frowned, her lips pursing. “I mean, at the time, I didn’t think anything about it. I was busy being mortified about the whole stain-can debacle.”

Ethan was finally getting the entire story pieced together. “And how did they react?”

“They kinda looked at each other. Like I’d said something interesting when all I'd said was 'stain colors.'” Her frown deepened. “Then Kyle showed up, and the two guys left. But … I don't know. Something just felt off.”

Ethan nodded slowly; all the dots were connected now. “And you think your dictation app recorded what they were saying while you were climbing the display?”

Star’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Exactly! My phone was sitting right there, recording the whole time. I didn’t even realize it until I got to the checkout. And honestly, I was just hoping it didn't capture me yelling when the cans came crashing down.”

Ethan rubbed his jaw, thoughts racing. “These two guys. … did you get a good look at them?”

“Sure … well, I noticed some things,” she admitted. “I was too busy figuring out how to extricate myself from the paint can apocalypse. But one guy had a tattoo on his hand. I think it was a spade. Maybe a club? Something black like that. The other one was wearing a ratty baseball cap. I think it said 'Benny’s Auto'.”

Ethan tapped the screen, and the note filled the display.

“Start from the top,” Star said, leaning in to watch him read as she took a sip of her coffee.

Ethan scanned the first paragraphs, then looked up. “Do you want me to take care of this Kyle fellow? I can make sure he never bothers you again.”

And he would. Ethan didn’t tolerate men who didn’t understand the word no . His mother had raised him to respect women, and he’d never once asked a woman out again if she’d declined—especially not after she’d turned him down as clearly as Star had rejected Kyle.

Star blinked, her brow furrowing. Then she leaned forward. “Oh, no, no. That’s not what I want you to read. Keep going.” She waved dismissively at him, but Ethan mentally filed away the information for a future trip to the hardware store.

His gaze dropped to the screen, his attention locking on the transcribed conversation. The words chilled him. The details were troubling—very troubling. There were ways to identify the men. If the hardware store had security cameras, he could cross-reference the timestamp with Star’s receipt to narrow down the suspects. He'd also check nearby street cameras for additional footage.

He looked up. “What time were you at the hardware store?”

Star scrunched her nose. “The receipt for the samples should be in the phone case pocket. It should have a timestamp, right?”

“Yeah, that should work.” He flipped the phone over and slid the crumpled receipt from the case. “Seven fourteen p.m.”

“That sounds right,” Star said, tapping her nails on the table.

Ethan exhaled a sharp breath, struggling to stay on task. “Could you recognize these men if you saw them again?”

“Yeah, maybe. I opened another note last night and described as much as I could remember. I made sure to include the small stuff—like the moon-shaped scar on one guy’s arm and the tattoo on the back of the other guy’s hand.”

“Good thinking,” Ethan said. “Did you consider calling the police?”

Star chewed her bottom lip. “I did consider it, and I almost did. But what was I supposed to tell them? That my dictation app recorded some guys talking about killing a person? Is that even illegal? I mean, talking about it isn’t a crime, right? At least, I don’t think it is. Plus, I kinda panicked because—wait, isn’t it illegal to record people without their permission? At least in this state? Oh my God, Ethan!” Her voice pitched higher. “They were talking about killing somebody! In a hardware store! The Mafia is using my hardware store as a meeting spot, and I recorded them. Holy crap, they're gonna put a hit on me, aren’t they?” She dropped her head into her hands. “I just can’t. I just … can’t.”

Ethan reached across the table and placed his hand on her arm. “Star.”

Her head lifted. Her eyes were wide, her breathing shallow.

“First,” Ethan said, his tone even and reassuring, “no one has put a hit out on you. Your imagination is running on overload. I don’t think this is Mafia, but just to make you feel better, we'll lock down your house. Step one to that end is you start locking the doors. Every door. Every time. No exceptions.”

Star nodded rapidly, biting her lip. “ You don’t think it is the Mafia, but that doesn’t stop me from freaking out and thinking it’s them. And yeah, okay. Lock the doors. Got it.”

“Step two: I’ll install a security system for you. Nothing complicated. Just enough to alert us if someone comes up to the house.”

Star's shoulders sagged with relief. “I can pay for that. I still have some money left from Uncle Nico's inheritance for house repairs. I can just?—”

“No.” Ethan shook his head. “I have spare parts I can use to build a solid system. Actually,” he added with a faint smirk, “the parts are state-of-the-art. I could rig up a mesh so tight I’d know if a spider farts in the corner of the attic.”

Star snorted, then clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God. Did I just snort?”

“You did.” Ethan grinned despite the situation. “It was adorable.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she waved him off. “Okay, so step three?”

“Step three,” Ethan said, leaning back in his chair, “is me digging into this conversation. I’ll track these guys down.”

She blinked at him. “How? I don’t know who they are.”

Ethan sipped his coffee, eyes locked on hers. “It's kind of what I do.”

Star’s eyes widened. “Wait. Are you, like, a private investigator? A security ninja? Ooh! Are you secretly with the CIA? Oh my God, do you have to kill me now that I know?”

Ethan chuckled. “I'm more of an all-around security guy.”

She exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank goodness. I swear I worried about this all night. I kept thinking, 'Okay, maybe I'm overreacting.' But then I kept picturing those guys. It freaked me out. You don't think I'm in danger, do you?” she asked.

Ethan’s expression softened. “Star, you're in danger every waking moment—from gravity, rogue hardware displays, and your own feet. But I don't think these guys are targeting you.”

Her brows shot up. “Ha! I told you—the Star Curse only hurts other people.”

Ethan rubbed his forehead. “Sure. The Star Curse. Speaking of danger, what are you going to do when I leave? You’re going to lock the doors, right?”

“Yes, yes.” Star rolled her eyes. “Lock the doors. Got it.”

“And you're going to stay away from the hardware store for a while,” Ethan added.

“Agreed,” Star said. “Although … I do need caulk.”

“Order it online,” Ethan said flatly.

“Okay, okay.” She leaned her elbows on the table and tilted her head. “So … what’s your next move? You going to hack the Mafia?”

Ethan took a sip of coffee and promptly choked. He coughed, sputtered, and set the cup down. “Sure. I'll just Google 'Mafia customer service hotline' while I’m at it.”

Star grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “If anyone could do it, it’s you. I have faith in you.”

Ethan shook his head and smiled. “No hacking. Yet. First, I need to figure out who these guys are and what they were talking about.”

“Right. Good plan.” Star stood abruptly, knocking into the table with her hip and nearly sending her coffee flying. “Oops! Sorry.”

Ethan caught the cup before it tipped over and muttered, “Yeah. I need a security system for you and the furniture.”

Star shot him a sheepish grin. “Better get on that, security ninja. Are you sure no one’s going to come after me?”

“I promise, if the Mafia comes after you, I’ll be there to protect you,” Ethan said, his voice low and steady.

Star smiled at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. “My knight in shining armor?”

He leaned forward, his gaze holding hers. “If you’d let me be.”

That was as close to a declaration of intent as Star's curse had ever allowed him to get. His heart thudded in his chest as he waited for her reaction.

She gasped softly and sat down. “Do you mean that? Or are you just teasing me?”

Ethan reached across the table and took her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Star, I want to get to know you better.”

Her breath caught. “You mean … like date?”

He chuckled and gave a slow nod. “That’s my intent.”

Star shot out of her chair with so much force that the coffee cups teetered, tipped, and spilled their contents across the table. Ethan barely managed to jerk back as the lukewarm coffee splashed down his jeans.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered, feeling the warmth soak through the denim.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” Star scrambled for the paper towel roll on the counter, yanking half the roll free as she hurried back. She dropped to her knees in front of him, blotting the front of his jeans with frantic pats.

Ethan's eyes widened as her hands moved across his thighs and then higher. “Star,” he said, voice strained.

She kept dabbing at the coffee stains. “I didn’t mean to do that! I just got excited, and then I forgot my coffee was there, and?—”

“Star.” He grasped her wrists and gently pulled her hands away. Then he tipped her chin up with one finger. “I have a feeling dating you will be hazardous to my health.”

She leaned into his touch. “I swear, I don’t do this stuff on purpose. I really do want to date you, Ethan. When I told Kyle there was someone else … I thought about you.”

The tightness in his chest eased, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the coffee soaking into his jeans. He smiled. “Good to know. I’ve been wondering about that.”

He leaned down and softly brushed his lips against hers. The kiss was light and teasing, just enough to leave them both wanting more.

“I know you don’t do it on purpose,” he whispered.

She sighed, eyes half-lidded.

“Is it okay if I take your phone?” he asked, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. “I want to download the conversation and the metadata to match up the timestamps.”

Star nodded immediately. “Anything you need.” Her eyes were soft and inviting, her voice low and warm as she added, “Anything you want, actually.”

Ethan’s brain short-circuited for half a second. Oh, the things he could imagine wanting with this woman.

He gave her a crooked smile and shook his head. “We’ll leave that for later. For now, I need to get to work. I’ll bring the phone back when I’m done.”

She wrapped her arms around herself as he stood. “I might not hear you if you return while I'm working. I have office hours from nine to three. I do dictation and transcription work, so I'll probably have my headphones on.”

“Not a problem.” Ethan slung his jacket over his arm. “I’ll keep it with me if you don’t hear me.”

She nodded. “Okay. Whatever you need from me, you've got it.”

“Good.” He pointed toward the door as he headed toward it. “Lock the front and back doors after I leave. Not because I think you're in danger. Just … because. The world’s full of crazies.”

Star tilted her head and gave him a curious look. “You really do think the worst of people, don’t you?”

Ethan smiled. “And you really think the best of people, don’t you?”

She gave a sheepish shrug. “Well, I did. Until last night. That freaked me out so badly I actually watched The Godfather to see if I could gain any pointers for protecting myself from a hit.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “The Mafia isn't stalking you, Star. And if it were the Mafia, it wouldn’t be over some random conversation at a hardware store.”

“But they were talking about killing someone!” Her voice pitched higher. “That’s Mafia-ish, right? I mean … the Mafia's a thing.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it's still a thing. But these days, they’re more into illegal gambling, prostitution, and drug trafficking than hardware-store hits. Most of the old-school enforcers are retired or behind bars.”

She huffed out a breath, clearly not reassured.

“Lock the door,” Ethan said again as he reached the kitchen door.

She gave him a thumbs-up. “On it, boss.”

Ethan opened the door and stepped out—right onto a rotted stair board. The wood gave way beneath his weight with a sickening crack, and his leg plunged through the step.

“Ah, damn it!” His knee caught the splintered edges, halting his fall.

Star bolted to the door. “Oh my God! Are you okay?”

Ethan grimaced and looked up at her. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He braced his hands on the porch floor and carefully hauled his leg free. “Looks like I’ll be replacing these boards today, too.”

“You don't have to do that,” she said, wringing her hands. “I mean, I knew they were rotted. I was avoiding them. I was going to get to it eventually. I can go grab some lumber and fix them.”

Ethan rubbed his aching knee and held up a hand. “Star. We’re dating. You're going to let me help you with stuff now. And today, that starts with these stairs, the security system, and tracking down the guys from the hardware store. Understand?”

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. “Okay. Okay. It’s just … I’m not used to anyone doing things for me.”

“Well,” Ethan said, carefully descending the rest of the steps, “you’ve got someone now.” He called Thor, who deftly leaped the broken stair and trotted after him.