Bad Taste in Men (Clover Park, Book 3) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) (13 page)

“Yes, please,” she replied. “You got time to drive over to Sal’s Restaurant Warehouse? I thought it’d be good to look at stuff in person.”

He looked over her shoulder at the line that had formed behind her. “If we leave around ten that should work. Morning coffee rush will be over, and there’s a lull before afternoon ice cream.”

“I got this, boss,” Matt said.

Shane looked at Matt, looked at the line of four people waiting for coffee. “Okay, thanks, Matt.” He turned to Rachel. “Give me fifteen minutes to wrap things up.”

“Okay.” She sat on a stool by the side counter and sent Janelle a text that she’d be in late today. Janelle had the keys and had opened and closed the shop many times for Rachel. She watched Shane greet the customers, smiling at each of them, locals who were regulars. She realized people came here as much for Shane’s warm friendliness as for the coffee. If only she could clone him for the café. She smiled at customers, sure, but she knew she didn’t project that kind of warmth. Now if the occasion called for snark, she was all set.

A short while later, Shane took off his apron and gestured for her to follow out the back exit. She got into his car, and they headed out of town. He was still irritated with her, she could tell, but he was going shopping at her request, so she ignored it. He wasn’t the kind to hold a grudge for long.

Besides, dealing with his anger was a hell of a lot easier than dealing with this palpable
thing
sparking in the air between them at the strangest times. Just from a look or a shared smile. It was horrible.

“How do you do that whole warm and friendly thing with everyone that comes in?” she asked.

He didn’t even glance in her direction. She was the enemy, the betrayer of ice cream.

“What warm and friendly thing?” he asked. “I just say good morning and take their order.”

“No, it’s more than that. You’re smiling, and your voice is so warm.”

He lifted one shoulder up and down. “I like the people who come in. I guess that shows.”

Might as well get the fro-yo thing out of the way.

“I guess Barry never comes in,” she said casually.

He tensed and slowed for a stop sign, turning to hit her full-on with what she’d come to think of as the alpha Shane look. Must be related to his above-average package. Testosterone levels or something. She fidgeted in her seat as a hot flash ran through her from alpha Shane. Where the hell did that hidden alpha come from anyway?

“You’re trying to push my buttons,” he said.

She bit back a smile. “Who, me?”

He hit the accelerator. “You and Barry would have such beautiful cow babies.”

She snort-laughed, glad he was back to joking around with her. “They would be udderly delightful and full of pro-bee-otics!”

He smiled, just a little.

“It’s too bad you can’t work at the café too,” Rachel said. “You know I don’t give off that people-friendly vibe.”

His voice dropped to a husky tone. “You’re pretty friendly with me.”

She felt herself flush, remembering all too well exactly how friendly they’d gotten in Liz’s kitchen.

“I’m bitter and jaded,” she informed him.

“You are?”

“I’m practicing to be a spinster with ten cats.”

He laughed.

“I’m serious. I’ll die alone, and the cats will eat my eyeballs.”

He shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. Cats don’t eat eyeballs. They’d just bat them around for a while.”

She smiled, feeling more relaxed as they segued into easy conversation. They went over what they would shop for. Shane told her his ideas for using the undercounter space efficiently and the importance of a good inventory system. Geez, she was glad she’d gone into business with him. The workflow of food and coffee preparation and the constantly revolving inventory to keep everything fresh would not have occurred to her. Things were much simpler with books: scan the price, take the money, stick the book in a bag. Done.

They got to the warehouse, a huge place with separate areas for seating, flooring, appliances, lighting, and even framed artwork. What they showed on their website was a fraction of their inventory.

“Whoa,” Rachel said, completely overwhelmed.

“I’ve been here before,” Shane said, hands on his hips. “It’s great. Let’s start with tables and seating and work from there. The seating left over from the deli is not gonna cut it.”

“Lead the way.”

They checked out square tables, round tables, and rectangle tables with a variety of surfaces. Rachel was feeling dizzy from all the choices and the prices. “Maybe I should just stick with picking out the books to display and the artwork.”

Shane grabbed her hand and pulled her along. “Come on. You have to actually sit in some of the chairs.”

They sat in a bunch of chairs, and a lot of them seemed good.

“Let’s just order the cheapest ones,” she said.

“You want people to hang around, right?” Shane moved to another set of chairs. “So they spend a lot of time next to Book It and wander over.”

“Well, yeah,” she said from a chair that looked great and felt comfortable. She leaned over to see the tag: two hundred dollars. Each. She jumped up. “I also wanted some reading chairs. Maybe I could look for those in a regular furniture store. On sale.”

“Sure. Hey, these are pretty comfortable.” He indicated for her to try the square wooden chair next to him. “It’s got good back support.”

She sat. “It’s okay, but I was thinking something with a cushion.”

“You know they’re gonna spill coffee. You have to get something spill proof. I like the wood more than plastic or metal. It’s warm.”

She looked at the price tag. One hundred dollars, on sale for seventy-seven. “Sold. So dark wood chairs, dark wood floor, deep red on the walls. I want full-color book cover posters on the wall.”

“I have no idea what book covers to choose. I’ll leave that to you.”

“Sounds good.” She liked the way they complemented each other. What she didn’t know, he did. And vice versa. She turned to him. “I’m glad we’re partners.”

He smiled warmly. “Me too.”

She found herself basking in that warm smile. A flash of something else crossed his expression, something hungry. Butterflies danced in her belly, which was absolutely ridiculous sitting here in the middle of Sal’s Restaurant Warehouse with her best friend.

“Stop that,” she told him.

“Stop what?” he asked, the picture of innocence. He didn’t fool her. He knew very well he was giving her the hungry eyes just to get her all flustered.

She stood abruptly. “You know what.”

He stood next to her. “No, I don’t. Tell me.”

She looked over to the table section and answered out of the side of her mouth, “Stop giving me that look.”

His hand settled on the back of her neck and squeezed. The gesture, at once possessive and not at all kosher between friends, made her whole body turn to mush. His voice rumbled in her ear. “I’m not looking at you any different than I always do.”

She suppressed a shiver. He was, but she couldn’t talk about it anymore without embarrassing herself.

“On to tables,” she said, extricating herself from his hold.

Several hours later, they’d placed an order for tables that could seat two, four, and six people along with the chairs. They also put in an order for flooring and checked out the mini-refrigerators. Shane wanted one under the counter for easy access to milk, cream, and whipped cream.

They stopped for lunch at a Mexican restaurant. Shane knew the place and requested a booth in the back. He slid in next to her on the bench seat.

“What are you doing?” she asked, scooting closer to the wall. He moved with her. It was so intimate having him next to her. The lights were dim. A fountain nearby muffled the sound of the other customers, making it feel like they were in their own private oasis. She could feel the heat of his leg through his athletic shorts on the bare skin of her leg. Actually she could feel the heat of the entire side of his body. Her whole body was in heated overload.

His hand settled on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing the back of her neck. He leaned close, his breath hot on her ear. “I’m letting you get used to having me close.”

She swallowed hard and debated crawling under the table to sit on the other side. She was between him and the wall, and there was no way he’d make it easy and let her out to sit across from him.

“I’m used to you,” she hissed. But she wasn’t. Far from it. Not with him invading her personal space. She studied the menu, holding it up in a desperate attempt to hide her burning cheeks.

“Are you?” His lips pressed on the side of her neck, and hot tingles raced through her. “Good.”

“What a cute couple!” someone exclaimed.

Startled, Rachel dropped the menu. A perky waitress stood at their table, smiling at them.

“We’re not a couple,” Rachel said.

Shane’s hand stroked Rachel’s back while he smiled at the waitress. “Thank you.”

Miss Perky smiled some more. “It’s so cute the way you guys sit on the same side of the booth. How long have you been together?”

“How long has it been, honey?” Shane asked. “Feels like only a couple of days.”

“Too long,” Rachel said, elbowing him hard. He shifted his arm off her back and blocked her from further jabbing.

“You guys are
so
funny,” Miss Perky said. “What can I get you to drink?”

After they ordered drinks and the waitress left to fetch them chips, Rachel turned to Shane. “What the—”

He shut her up with a hard, fast kiss that zinged through her and just as quickly released her. And then that arrogant man, looking entirely too pleased with himself, gave her a raised eyebrow, daring her to retaliate. Except she was speechless.

And wanted another kiss.

He grinned and took her hand, entwining their fingers together. She let him because she couldn’t think of one damn thing to say that would make him back off.

Maybe she didn’t want him to back off. That scared her most of all.

~ ~ ~

It was late afternoon by the time they got back, and Rachel realized Shane should’ve been back earlier to help with the afternoon rush at his shop.

“I’ve kept you too long,” she said as they drove down Main Street.

“It’s fine. To tell you the truth, I’ve got a great staff that can run the shop without me. In fact, I make enough from restaurant orders that I don’t even need the shop. I just like being part of downtown.”

“Really? So the shop is just so you can hang out with everyone?”

He smiled. “It’s a little more than hanging out. I’m offering homemade ice cream with the best, freshest ingredients. I’m keeping local dairies and farms in business. Food is everything, Rach. It’s life, it’s community. Everything.”

She actually got chills hearing the way he spoke about his passion for food. “Shane, that was beautiful. Like poetry.”

He blushed. “Stop.”

“I’m not teasing,” Rachel said. “I actually understand. That’s how I feel about books. Life is hard, and books can lift you up. They can give you an escape when you need it, let you know you’re not alone, help you dream of better things.”

“Now you’re the poet.” He pulled into the small parking lot behind her store. “I want to check out the café space again. Take some measurements. I’ve got a few more ideas for behind the counter.”

“Okay, I’m going to look into the posters and order some floating shelves and reading chairs.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She put her hand on the door handle, stopped, and turned back to him. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t gotten on board with the café. I just had this idea.” She gestured wildly with her hands. “A café to save the bookstore! But I really had no clue how to put that plan into action. I was just following along in my
Nitwit’s Guide
.”

“Nitwit.” He chuckled. “You would’ve figured things out. But I’m glad it worked out this way too.”

He smiled his dimpled smile that was really just too adorable.

“You know you have dimples? Like right here.” She indicated the sides of her mouth.

“I do look in the mirror occasionally,” he said dryly.

She was the nitwit. She grabbed her purse and got out of the car. They headed for the café, and she unlocked the door for him. “I’d better get back to work.” And then because she needed to remind them both of the boundaries of their business relationship, she added, “Janelle’s been alone there all day. How’re things with you two anyway?”

“She wants to meet for drinks again on Friday night—”

“Have a good time.”

She turned to go, and he grabbed her arm, turning her back to face him. “I didn’t say I would go. I want
you
.”

Her hand flew to her throat, where her pulse was beating wildly. Shane had never pushed the issue like he had today. First the restaurant and now just baldly stating that he wanted her. It was too much.
Boyfriends don’t last.

“I should go.” She looked down at his hand still gripping her arm. “Shane, please.”

“Please, what? You want me to pretend we’re just friends? That’s your game. I’m done playing it.”

She stared at his hand, and he dropped it. “I told you I value your friendship.” She avoided his eyes and forced the words out over the lump in her throat. “That’s not a game. Far from it. You’re the best thing in my life.”

He tipped her chin up and held it, forcing her to look at him. “Then let me in.”

Her breath caught at the heated look in his eyes. “You’re in. You couldn’t be more in.”

His jaw clenched, and he dropped his hand. “You know what I mean.”

Anger flared within her. He meant sex. She wasn’t going to throw their friendship away just for a quick lay. She tamped her anger down. Fighting wouldn’t help anything.

“Look, it's been a while for you,” she said gently. He hissed out a breath. “I get it, but just because we have some kind of weird chemistry doesn’t mean we have to be stupid and throw away our friendship.”

“I’m not talking about throwing anything away!”

She grimaced. He sounded like a wounded bear. She must’ve hurt his ego reminding him it’d been a while. Even if it was true. As far as she knew, Janelle was the first person he’d gone out with in a long time.