“If that’s what you want,” he drawled.
She shoved her glasses back on. “I have nothing to do with it. That’s between you and Janelle.”
He shook his head. “You are so damn…” His mouth clamped shut.
Her eyes widened. He actually sounded mad at her. Shane hardly ever got mad. “So damn what?”
“Difficult.” His chair scraped back as he stood. “I’m going to check out the back storage area.”
“Okay.” Rachel stayed right where she was. “I’m not trying to be difficult,” she called after him.
She heard something slam in the back. He was mad.
Geez. She wasn’t the one going out with Janelle. He could’ve said no. She traced a circle on the tabletop, and the image of petite, blond Janelle being carried in Shane’s arms, smiling and laughing, came to her unwarranted. She stood abruptly, knocking over her chair.
“You okay?” Shane called.
“Everything’s fine!” she hollered.
He stepped out to see for himself, glowered, and went back to the storage area.
Everything was fine. If Shane wanted to carry Janelle around, even though Janelle didn’t even have a sprained ankle or any valid reason like that, Rachel certainly had no right to complain about it, now did she?
Chapter Eight
Shane was sweating, down by ten points in basketball against Ry, and wishing Trav was back from his honeymoon so he could take his place. Shane glanced at the patio, where Rachel, Liz, and Janelle were sitting under a patio umbrella talking to Gran at their Sunday family barbecue at Ry’s place. Yup, Rachel sitting there was the only reason he’d even attempted the game. He sucked at ball sports, something that always made him feel separate from the other boys as a kid, especially when his older brothers were such athletes. When word got out in town that he was the one baking all the delicious food at church events, he’d taken a lot of teasing from the boys at school. And when he said nothing in return, the teasing escalated to punching by one particularly nasty bully and his two mindless friends until one day Shane felt forced to fight back. Luckily, he was big enough to defend himself and Ry had taught him how. He hated fighting, but no one messed with him after he’d kicked the ass of the ringleader.
Ry sunk a three-pointer while Shane halfheartedly went for the rebound. Shane retrieved the ball, and Ry stole it right out from under him. Ry stopped suddenly, tucked the ball under his arm, and looked sideways at Shane. “I think they’re talking about you.”
Shane glanced over to where the women were giggling and looking right at him. Janelle wiggled her fingers in a little wave.
“Great,” he said between his teeth, waving back.
Ry handed him the ball. “Make a shot. Show ’em what you got. I won’t even steal it.”
Shane dribbled and headed toward the basket. Ry feigned a steal, letting him go past. Shane took the shot and watched it bounce off the rim and into the yard. He didn’t turn around to see the women’s reaction, but Gran’s voice carried.
“He’s never been good at sports, but boy, oh boy, can he cook. That’s what you look for in a man, ladies.”
Shane’s ears burned. Ry chuckled and tossed him the ball. Why did Gran always sound like she was trying to convince women to give him a second look? He worked out now. Lost the belly. He didn’t need a grandmotherly assist.
Ry inclined his head toward the basket. “Give it another go, bud.”
“Maybe I should just whip up a batch of cookies,” Shane said. “Maybe then the ladies will give me a chance.”
Ry grinned. “That’s just the Pillsbury Doughboy in you talking. Take the shot.”
It was either that or face the women. Shane blew out a breath and dribbled toward the basket. Ry didn’t even fake a steal, instead standing back with a smile. Shane took the shot. Swish.
Applause broke out behind him. He turned. The women were all smiles, only one woman making his day by it. He jogged over to talk to Rachel when Janelle intercepted, putting a hand on his arm.
“Nice basket,” Janelle purred.
“I missed the first one,” he muttered, glancing over her shoulder. Rachel quickly looked away, turning to talk to Liz.
“I had a good time on Friday night,” Janelle said softly.
It had been nice. They’d talked about Book It and Clover Park and Janelle’s part-time graduate work in anthropology. Drinks had quickly turned to dinner as the night wore on pleasantly. He always liked the food at Garner’s. Comfort food at its best.
“It was a good dinner,” he agreed.
She looked up at him under her lashes in that weird way some women did. “You want to stop by my place after this?”
He glanced at Rachel, who was now watching them with a stormy expression on her face. He looked at Janelle, all perky and young and cute. It struck him that Rachel was jealous, and while that was a very good sign for him, he didn’t want to hurt Janelle. He’d only gone out with her to be polite. He had to let Janelle know he didn’t feel that way about her. But now didn’t seem like the right time in front of everyone. Maybe later he’d get a chance—
Her hand slid up his arm and stroked his shoulder. “So will you stop by? We can get to know each other without all these people around.”
He didn’t want Rachel to see Janelle’s hands on him. He stepped out of her reach and walked over to the patio to get a drink from the cooler. Janelle followed him. He popped open a Sam Adams and took a long drink. “We can get to know each other here.”
“Do I have to spell it out for you, sweetie?” She went up on tiptoe, rubbing her breasts against him as she did, and kissed his cheek.
He stepped back. Message received, loud and clear. But Shane had never been the type to jump into bed with a woman after one date. And he didn’t want to be with someone who did that either. Besides, his heart was already taken.
“I’m all sweaty.” He lifted the bottom of his shirt and wiped his face.
“I like a sweaty man. Think about it.”
She walked off, hips swaying, and went into the house. Hagar bounded out of his confinement when the door opened and started running in circles around the yard, barking joyously. Ry picked up a tennis ball and threw it. Hagar took off like a shot.
Shane dropped into the chair next to Gran.
“I’m telling you, ladies,” Gran said, nodding her head as she spoke, her big floppy hat nodding along. “He graduated from the Culinary Institute of America. You won’t find a better chef, and he has other talents—”
Shane groaned, his cheeks burning again. “Stop bragging about me. It’s embarrassing.”
“If I can’t brag about my own grandson, then what do I have to brag about?”
“Parasailing,” Liz chimed in.
“Your lasagna,” Shane said.
“Winning the seniors tango competition with Jorge,” Rachel added.
“I heard my name,” Jorge said, coming out of the house and crossing over to Gran. He kissed her tenderly. “How are you, my love?”
“I’m wonderful,” Gran cooed. “Sit with us.”
Gran and Jorge had been married almost a year now. It had happened fast, but as Gran liked to say, she wasn’t getting any younger. She was seventy-three. Jorge was fifty-something. Age didn’t matter to them. It was really nice to see his gran so happy. She’d been alone for a long time, ever since his grandfather died.
“Looks like things are going well with you and Janelle,” Rachel said flatly.
Shane suppressed a smile at Rachel’s carefully neutral tone. She was jealous. Even though she was the one who set him up with Janelle, it was eating away at her. As far as he was concerned, there was absolutely nothing keeping him and Rachel apart except her own damn stubbornness.
“She’s all right,” he said.
Rachel sat up straighter and looked around the table. “Shane and I have some great plans for Something’s Brewing Café. We want you all to come to the grand opening.” She turned to him. “How soon you t
hink until we can open?”
He smiled. He’d rather talk about the café than Janelle any day.
“I’d love to open on Labor Day in time for the street fair,” he said.
“Do you think you have enough time?” Liz asked.
Rachel considered this. “Six weeks. Maybe.”
“If we can get the electrical and plumbing done quickly, it’ll work,” Shane said. “I’ll place our equipment orders on Monday. The rest is just cosmetic.”
“Well, cosmetics are pretty important,” Rachel said.
“That won’t take long,” Shane replied. “I can jump in with the contractors. Move things along.”
Rachel’s face lit up. “Veni, vidi, vici!”
Liz wrinkled her nose. “Is that the—” she finger-quoted “—we won Latin?”
“We came, we saw, we won,” Shane said.
Rachel turned, jaw dropped. “You remember my favorite Latin phrase?”
He lifted one shoulder up and down. “I listen. You could also say aut viam inveniam aut faciam.”
“Shane!” Rachel exclaimed.
“What’s that one?” Liz asked.
“I will either find a way or make one.” He couldn’t help but laugh at Rachel’s shocked expression. “I told you I listen.”
Rachel shook her head and smiled. “Six weeks to financial security!”
“Rach,” Liz said gently. “I’m glad you’re so positive, but I think it’ll take a while for the money to roll in. Didn’t you say there were a lot of start-up costs?”
Shane reached across the table and squeezed Rachel’s hand. “We’ll make it work, partner.”
Rachel snatched her hand back and busied herself cleaning her glasses with the bottom of her shirt. “Of course we will,” she muttered.
Liz and Gran exchanged a look.
Gran smiled widely. “Something’s brewing between friends, I say.”
Shane’s cheeks and ears burned. He would never, ever pull off cool in front of his grandmother.
Rachel shoved her glasses back in place and stood stiffly. “That’s right, Maggie. It’s called coffee.”
He watched Rachel stalk off to the house, stopping briefly to say hello to Janelle, who’d just stepped outside, and disappear inside.
“Gran, you made her uncomfortable,” Shane said.
Gran shooed him away. “Then go make her feel better.”
“I will.”
He left his beer and walked straight by Janelle to catch up with Rachel inside.
~ ~ ~
Rachel headed back to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of ice water, pausing to take a few deep breaths. This whole thing was completely absurd. Jealous over Janelle. Suddenly noticing Shane’s dimples, his body, his deep, rumbly voice, his Latin—
“Rach, you okay?”
She jumped and whirled around. The man needed some kind of early warning system—squeaky shoes, swishy corduroys, a spinning propeller hat that played “Yankee Doodle Dandy.” Anything equally nerdy would do because these lusty ideas about her best friend and partner were wreaking havoc with her rational, professional businesswoman side.
With firm boundaries. Don’t forget that. Very firm.
She walked straight up to him, bravely looking him in the eye. It was time to put all these crazy ideas about Shane to rest once and for all. “You ever sleep with someone you worked with?”
He swallowed visibly. “No.”
“You ever sleep with a friend and then go back to being friends?”
He gave her a slow smile that made something flutter low in her belly. “I kissed someone and went back to being friends.”
He stepped closer, and she found she couldn’t move. He smelled like sweaty male. That shouldn’t be good, shouldn’t make her weak in the knees. He took the glass from her hand and set it on the counter. One large hand cradled her face. “You want to give it a try?”
Don’t be stupid! You’re playing with fire!
She was all set with a firm no, but what came out was an embarrassingly weak, “Um…”
She caught his quick smile before he leaned down and kissed her, soft, so soft. His tongue traced her lips and then dipped inside. Someone sighed. That couldn’t have been her. She wasn’t the sighing type. Her hands went up to his chest, gripping his shirt as his mouth and tongue took over a thorough exploration. She pressed closer, nipping at his bottom lip. His hands slid to her bottom and pulled her close against what felt like a massive erection. Cock-a-doodle-do-me. Shane was hung. Someone let out a needy whimper. Her again. Shane growled. Wait, Shane growled?
Bark! Bark! Bark! They broke apart. Hagar was here, and apparently he didn’t like what he saw.
“Sorry!” Liz called from the other room. “I just came in to get him some water. We didn’t see anything.”
Rachel dropped her head on Shane’s chest and heard a low laugh rumbling there.
“Can I just get his water dish real quick?” Liz asked.
“Come in,” Shane called, turning Rachel so her back was pressed against his front. He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. She wanted to pull away, to give herself a chance to cool off and quell the rumors surely to follow through the family gossip mill, but something hard pressing into her hip told her Shane wasn’t quite ready to let her go.
Liz beamed at them and filled the dog’s water dish at the sink. “Come on, Hagar. We’ll take this outside. Carry on!”
As soon as Liz left, Rachel stepped away from Shane and turned to face him. “That never happened.”
Shane rubbed a hand over his face. “Why? Why can’t it happen?”
She had to let him down easy. She knew he was sensitive, and she didn’t want any hard feelings. Hard feelings. Her gaze fell to the front of his tented shorts, and she had the sudden urge to peel them down and see exactly what he had going on under there. Just one peek. She’d had no idea…not until he was pressed up against her. Not that size mattered. At least she didn’t think so. She’d never been with anyone that was…above average. Jumbolicious. Giganto-screw.
“Rach?”
She heard the smile in his voice and snapped her attention back to his face. Her cheeks burned. She couldn’t believe she was blushing again. That was Shane’s thing. But he wasn’t blushing now. He was giving her an unsettling, knowing look that said, You want?
Focus. She took a deep breath. “This can’t happen because we’re business partners and friends,” she said firmly. “And, um, Janelle.”
He took a step closer; she stepped back. He advanced on her with a determined look in his eyes that had her heart beating like crazy as she kept backing up until she felt the counter bump against her back. He boxed her in, one hand on either side of her hips.
She gulped. “I don’t think—”
“Don’t think,” he said as his lips brushed hers, kissing one corner of her mouth gently, then the other corner. So gentle, so tender, it undid her. Her eyes closed on their own. He kissed the bow in her upper lip softly, luring her in; then he was kissing her long and slow and deep until she wrapped her arms around his neck and melted against him. His hand fisted in her hair, and the kiss turned hard, a dark promise of possession that had sparks shooting down low where there hadn’t been sparks in a very long time. She moaned, unable to stand on the moral high ground with the sensations clouding her brain.
He pulled back long enough to say, “Let’s get you off that ankle,” then he was lifting her to the counter, nudging her legs apart as he pushed between them, his mouth claiming hers again. Her mind went blank, and there was just the hard planes of his back as her hands ran over him, the throbbing between her legs, and his mouth demanding on hers. His large hand slipped under her shirt and stroked up her back, then ran lightly down her spine, giving her a hot shiver. He pulled away and gazed into her eyes with a look so ravenous her heart actually kicked up. She’d never had a man look at her that way.
She would’ve swooned if she wasn’t sitting down.
This
was bad. Really bad. This was Shane. Somehow when he was kissing her, she could forget it was actually Shane she was wrapped up in, but one look at him and she was back to looking at her friend. They couldn’t do this.
She loosened her grip on the back of his shirt and dropped her hands, focusing on a point just over his shoulder. He was still close, standing between her legs, his hands resting on her hips. She was surrounded with his scent, some combination of male sweat and fresh-scent deodorant and Shane that made her want to rip off his clothes. Get a grip! She pushed at his chest with both hands, suddenly needing him out of her personal space.
He didn’t move. Instead he gently tucked a lock of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear. “Do you like that, Rach?” he asked, his voice a whispered rumble in her ear. “Do you like when I kiss you?”
She opened her mouth to deny it, felt like a total hypocrite, and shut it again. Besides, he knew. She’d moaned loud enough. God, this was embarrassing. She should just shut this whole thing down right now. Say something snarky to really piss him off. But then he was cupping the back of her head, holding her there while he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. She swallowed hard, her mind and body at war with themselves. He licked and nipped at the soft dip of her collarbone, and she gasped. His mouth left a hot trail up her neck, skimming her jaw, coming up to the corner of her mouth. Her lips parted in anticipation. She might’ve sighed.
His lips brushed hers, once, twice. “Do you? Say it.”
“No, I hate it.”
And then she grabbed his head and kissed him again to prove it.
He took over the kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth. His hands slid under her bottom and pulled her tight against him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, forgetting everything but this incredible need to get closer. She had to get closer. His hands were still gripping her ass when they heard a familiar voice. Female.
“Shane?” Janelle called.
Shane jerked away from her, and Rachel slammed to reality with a sickening crash. She suddenly felt shaky and cold from the loss of his body wrapped around hers.
Obviously he didn’t want Janelle to see them together. Hurt sliced through her. She slid down from the counter and quietly slipped out the back door on shaky legs, leaving Shane and Janelle alone.
Bad Taste in Men (Clover Park, Book 3) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) Page 8