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

by Kylie Gilmore

  “I overheard,” her mom said. “He’s a very nice young man.” She smiled her mysterious I’ve-got-some-ideas-about-that smile.

  “Oooh!” Sarah sang. “I sense some matchmaking.”

  Her mom turned. “It worked for you, didn’t it?”

  Sarah grinned and kissed her mom on the cheek. “It sure did.”

  Mark was the nice Jewish boy, the son of her parents’ friends from college, that her mom had set her up with. Sarah, being a pragmatic woman, had decided at twenty-seven that it was time she married and had kids. They met, got along, and married one year later. Sarah had been popping out kids ever since. Rachel didn’t need that kind of help.

  “Shane is very nice,” Rachel said calmly. “So am I. That’s why we’ll be good business partners.”

  “Maybe business plus something else,” her mom suggested.

  “Business plus,” Sarah chimed in. “I like it.”

  “It’s just business,” Rachel said through her teeth. “Nothing else.”

  Sarah shook her head. “The stubborner they are, the harder they fall.”

  “I’m not stubborn,” Rachel said. “We’re friends.”

  “Friends with benefits maybe?” her mom asked hopefully.

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “Mom! Do you know what that is?”

  “Yeah, a good time,” her mom said.

  They cracked up.

  “I wouldn’t mind another grandchild,” her mom said. “Hint, hint.”

  “Four’s not enough?” Rachel asked.

  Sarah planted her hands on her hips. “Yeah, you’ve already got four fabulous grandkids.”

  “I don’t have a redhead,” her mom said with a pointed look at Rachel.

  Maybe Janelle will have a redheaded child.

  Rachel sliced a big chunk of pie for herself.

  “Do you think Shane would be willing to raise the children Jewish?” her mom asked.

  Rachel’s head snapped up. “I don’t know, Mom. We never talked about what religion we’d raise our children on account of we’re not a couple.”

  Her mother tsked. “I guess it doesn’t matter. The mother carries the religion.”

  Her mother had been raised Catholic and was now more into being Jewish than her father, who was born to it. She really got into all the rituals and holidays that went along with it. Rachel could take or leave all that. She didn’t know about Shane…why was she even thinking about all this? They were friends, period, end stop, forever and ever.

  “You won’t get a redhead out of me,” Sarah said, setting pie slices on the plates. “Mark’s whole family are brunettes.”

  “Our family is too,” her mom said.

  They both turned to Rachel. Rachel held up a hand in the universal sign for stop. She worked for calm, irritated beyond reason, knowing Shane was with Janelle right this very minute. “This whole conversation is a moot point.”

  She grabbed the dessert plates and made a break for it.

  “You know Mr. Darcy was fiction, right?” Sarah called.

  Rachel stiffened. How dare Sarah mention her favorite book like it was a joke! She bit her tongue on the snappy comeback she wanted to say: Not everyone has to settle like you and Mom. She knew her family thought she was lost in some fantasy world half the time, but that wasn’t what books were to her. Yes, they were an escape, but when she came back, life was richer, more meaningful. No one ever got that about her. Even Liz called her egg because she thought she was too much in her head. Shane was the only one that never teased her about her obsession with books. He was so nonjudgmental. It was one of the things she loved most about him.

  Loved as in friendship type of love. Why was she thinking about Shane again? She blamed her mom and sister with all their teasing. They couldn’t understand being just friends with a guy. Shane was not her Mr. Darcy. That much she knew for sure. He was her rock—a steady, calm presence in her life. And when her Mr. Darcy did sweep into her life, she knew she could count on Shane to help her make good choices and not give her heart too soon. He would keep her grounded and safe like a best friend should.

  Chapter Seven

  Rachel tried to read while she waited at Book It on Saturday night for Shane, but it was hard. She kept checking the street for the sight of him, pizza in hand, as promised for their planned business meeting. According to Janelle, things had gone well last night and drinks had turned into dinner. Janelle didn’t share any more details, and Rachel hadn’t asked.

  Rachel played with the end of her braid. This is good. Things are right where they should be between you and Shane—two good, no best, friends starting a business together.

  She was happy for her friend. And Shane too. Of course she was happy for him; it was her idea to get them together. A flash of red hair caught her eye, and because he was interested in Janelle now, she let herself look, really look.

  And what she saw was the sexiest best friend she’d ever had.

  He’d shed the belly he’d gained from taste-testing ice cream. Now he was all trim and muscled and buff as he crossed the street toward her. She couldn’t tear her gaze away.

  Blue eyes with gold flecks.

  That strong jaw.

  Dimples.

  Her heart started pounding. How was she going to pretend she didn’t notice he was a grade-A hottie now that her eyes had been opened?

  Omigod, he was here. She quickly stuck her nose back in her book.

  The bell jingled as he let himself in. “Got the pizza. Half pepperoni, half olive.”

  He set the pizza and a paper bag on the counter, and then he stuck his hand on top of her book right where she was pretending to read. She looked up. He smiled, and she got a hot flash. Was she premenopausal? No, she was way too young for that.

  Omigod, she was hot for Shane.

  “Hey, partner,” he said, still smiling that adorable dimpled smile.

  “Hey,” she managed.

  He remembers I only like olives on my pizza. They hadn’t even shared a pizza in months. He was so freaking thoughtful.

  His blue eyes with gold flecks looked at her in concern. “You okay, Rach?”

  She swallowed hard and wished for a cold splash of water to bring her back from this overheated place. Maybe she was even, embarrassingly enough, blushing. She almost never blushed. It was a point of pride for her. She’d been blushing way too much in front of Shane. It was like he’d contaminated her with his own bad habit.

  “My blood sugar’s low,” she snapped. “It took you forever to get here.”

  He raised a brow. She snatched a slice of pizza and took a bite. Hot! She spit the scalding cheese into her hand and immediately regretted it. “Ah!”

  She dropped the scalding blob of cheese on the counter. Wasn’t she such a catch? Check out my spit-out food!

  Shane pulled a napkin from the bag and handed it to her. “Slow down. That’s fresh from the oven.”

  She hid the cheese in the napkin while she chugged the water, her eyes tearing from the pain of her poor scalded tongue. She swore she burned off half her taste buds with that idiot move.

  Shane set out paper plates and napkins from the bag. “There was a long line for takeout. That’s why I was a little late.” He opened the box and pulled off a slice of pepperoni, leaving it to cool in the box. “Saturdays are busy for Joey’s Pizza just like for the rest of us.”

  Unfortunately Saturday was not busy for Book It. They’d sold exactly three books today. People were too busy in the summer going to the beach and stopping for pizza and ice cream on the way home. No one wanted to hang out in her store, but now with a café, that would all change.

  He joined her behind the counter and pulled up a cushioned stool. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Better. The swelling’s gone.”

  He smiled. “Good.”

  She watched him pick up the slice and take a bite. He inclined his head for her to eat too. She picked up the slice from hell and took a careful bite. Cooler. Too bad she couldn’t ta
ste it with her taste buds gone, but…whatever.

  Business, Rachel. Keep your head in the game.

  “Did you have a chance to read the business plan?” she asked. “I mean, I know you were busy with Janelle last night.”

  Shut up! It’s none of your business.

  He tilted his head to the side, studying her. “I squeezed it in. It looks great. You covered all the bases, except the product, but that’s why you have me.”

  She smiled. She’d planned to ask him to help with the menu, but this was even better, having him on board as an equal partner. She loved his baking. Everything he made was sinfully delicious.

  “Do you think we should have sandwiches and wraps or just baked stuff?” Rachel asked.

  “To start, we should stay small. Sandwiches and wraps would take more staff, more inventory, and more refrigerated cases.”

  “I do have a glass refrigerated case the previous owners left behind.”

  “Good. We’ll keep snacks and desserts in it. Small impulse buys like apple tarts, blueberry scones, sweet breads that change with the seasons, brownies, cookies, mini-cupcakes, biscotti. Maybe some cheese danishes.”

  She nodded and took another bite of pizza, suddenly starving with the idea of all that mouth-watering goodness. After she chewed, she said, “Do I get to sample the food before we decide what to sell?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He opened up a bottled water, and she watched his Adam’s apple go up and down.

  She cleared her throat. Might as well deal with the elephant in her head. “Janelle said she had a good time at dinner last night.”

  “Yeah, it was nice.”

  “Nice,” she echoed. What did that mean? Nice as in, let’s hop in bed together, nice as in, it was okay once, but let’s not see each other again? Nice could mean anything!

  Shane continued eating, unperturbed.

  “Are you going to see her again?” she asked as she concentrated on folding her napkin into perfect squares.

  “She said you invited her to the barbecue on Sunday, so I guess I’ll see her then.”

  Rachel barely resisted smacking her forehead. She’d forgotten she’d invited Janelle to the O’Hare family barbeque before she’d pawned her off on Shane for a date. “Good, that’s good. Fantastic. So…yeah.”

  She shoved more pizza in her mouth. Shut up, Rachel. You sound like an idiot.

  “I’ve got a good supplier for appliances,” Shane said. “I’ll bring my espresso machine, coffee brewer, and a couple of grinders from my shop, but I think we should have another coffee brewer and grinder for flavored coffees.”

  That was a good savings right there, using the machines that Shane already had. “Do we have to have flavored stuff? It would be great to keep our expenses super low.”

  “Believe me, you’ll want the flavored stuff. A lot of people asked for it at my shop, but I just didn’t have the space for another machine. Now we can go big. Do it right.”

  “I defer to your beverage wisdom.”

  He grinned. “Have you checked the electrical and plumbing in the space?”

  “I wouldn’t even know what I was looking at. I did sign the lease yesterday. We’ve got ninety days rent-free to get us going.”

  “That’s great!”

  “It’s only because the realtor was desperate to get someone into that space. I was the only interest they had in the four months it was on the market. And they know I always pay my rent on time.”

  “You got the keys?”

  “I do.”

  “Let’s check it out when we’re done eating.”

  “Okay.”

  He lifted his bottled water in a toast and gave her a dazzling smile. “To tasty adventures to come.”

  Tasty! And did he put special emphasis on come? She squirmed in her seat. It definitely sounded dirty. She met his eyes dancing with laughter, and for the first time ever with Shane, felt a little off-center and out of her depth. He didn’t feel like her rock; right now he felt like a buzzing light and she was the moth. But, if she got too close, zap! Game over.

  Moth, really, Rach? The literary symbolism was not lost on her. Metamorphosis, transformation, yada, yada, yada. She still wasn’t going to sleep with him no matter how hot he’d recently become. Hmm…maybe he was the one transformed. Maybe Shane was the moth. Augh!

  She hastily lifted her water bottle and bumped it with his. “To tasty adventures,” she blustered.

  He drank and watched her over his bottled water.

  She went back to her pizza, ignoring the unsettling feeling of being watched. He was interested in Janelle. Building a business together would only work with solid, rock-hard, um, boundaries. With that thought firmly in mind, she launched into a long, detailed description of projected income and expenses for the café that would’ve made most people’s eyes glaze over, but Shane kept up surprisingly well. He even added expenses she hadn’t thought about, like flooring that wouldn’t stain, tables that were easy to clean, and lighting that was both decorative and inviting.

  They finished eating and walked next door to the abandoned deli that would soon be their café. She unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. Not much to look at, but it was a start. A long counter with a deli case, a cooler for drinks, six small square wood tables with wood chairs.

  Shane walked behind the counter and looked around. “We need more voltage to run the machines. I’ll call an electrician.” He squatted down and opened up some cabinets. “Gonna need a plumber. I want in-line water for a direct feed to the brewing machines.” He opened the rest of the cabinets. “We need a water softener too. We’ve got hard water around here, and it makes a big difference in the flavor of the coffee. Plus you don’t want mineral deposits clogging the espresso machine.”

  Dollar signs tallied in Rachel’s mind. She wasn’t going to argue. Shane knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to be penny wise, dollar foolish. They had to invest in the beginning for it to pay off in the long run.

  Shane continued. “I want a good flow for the customers and the staff working behind the counter. We’ll extend the counter and wrap all the way around to here.” He gestured where he wanted the L-shaped counter.

  More dollar signs.

  “That seems unnecessary,” she said. “We already have a perfectly good counter. It worked for the deli.”

  “No, it didn’t work for them. They went out of business. It’ll look better if we just add an all-new counter. Laminate is best so it doesn’t absorb stains. Or maybe granite. And we need part of it to be lower to accommodate the disabled.”

  “A granite counter!” she exclaimed.

  He ignored this. “We’re also going to need two sinks behind the counter. One against the wall for hand-washing and the other up front for a quick rinse or anything else we might need.”

  “More expensive plumbing,” she muttered.

  He planted his hands on his hips. “We’ll need more cabinets, more shelf space. All this stuff matters. You have to be organized in the prep area to keep inventory fresh and your staff efficient. The more efficient the staff, the more people you can get through here ordering food and drinks.”

  She blinked. Bossy Shane was making a reappearance. So, okay, food was his domain, but they were equal partners, and she didn’t want to spend unnecessarily. She went behind the counter and took in all the cabinets. “We’ve got plenty of cabinet space. We don’t need more.”

  “We do need more.” He opened a few cabinets. “Look at this. Just one big space. No shelves at all. We need shelves. And more cabinets. I know what will work and what won’t. And this won’t.”

  She tensed, not liking the way Shane was taking over with all his opinions that would cost them serious money. It killed her not to have the upper hand, being inexperienced in the food business. This whole thing would be a huge adjustment for her, being partners, being indebted to him. She was used to doing everything herself and paying her own way. She couldn’t wait to pay him back f
or her half of the partnership. But he’d signed the papers. They were partners. He wasn’t the boss. She was done with bosses.

  He regarded her steadily. She took a deep breath and nodded once, letting him have this one.

  She walked out from behind the counter and looked around the space. The walls had tan wallpaper, the floors a dinged-up linoleum. She imagined a literary theme. Some book cover posters on the walls. The walls would be a deep red with floating shelves featuring first editions and the classics. Some golden sconces and a pair of cushioned leather reading chairs thrown in with the existing square tables. Maybe some comfortable cushioned chairs to go with the tables instead of those hard, wood chairs.

  Shane joined her in the center of their would-be café. “I’m thinking a deep red paint on the walls.”

  She turned, eyes wide. “Me too.”

  He smiled and threw an arm over her shoulders. “All right, partner.”

  She caught herself smiling, all cozy with his arm around her. She shifted away. “My ankle’s bugging me. I’d better sit down.”

  She sat down at a table, and he joined her.

  “I’m torn between a laminate wood floor or black and white ceramic tiles,” he said. “What do you think?”

  “Ooh, a dark laminate floor. That would be nice. And some framed posters of book covers of all the great classics.”

  He smiled. “I like it.”

  “And hanging lights with pretty sconces.”

  “Maybe some gold tones.”

  “Yes!”

  They smiled at each other. Their eyes locked, and she found herself unable to look away.

  Shane stopped smiling. “Rach?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice, though they were alone. His large, warm hand covered hers, and heat rushed through her. “If you don’t want me to see Janelle again, I won’t.”

  She pulled her hand away and quickly removed her glasses, cleaning them on the bottom of her shirt. “Don’t be silly. You can see whoever you want. Janelle likes you. Go for it.”

  He leaned back and crossed his arms. His newly muscular, sculpted arms. They were a little out of focus, but they were there, right in front of her, taunting her.