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

by Kylie Gilmore

  “Oh.”

  He was telling her to leave. She wandered back to the register in her shop, her throat tight. She wasn’t a crier. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d cried, but she was dangerously close. This distance between them sucked. Thank goodness Liz came in just then. She needed a distraction fast.

  “Hey, Rach, need any help today?” Liz asked, breezing in.

  “No, but it’s good to see you.” She hugged her friend tightly.

  Liz pulled back, looking at her with concern. “You okay, egg?”

  Rachel sniffled. “Don’t call me egg. I stopped calling you chicken.”

  “Okay,” Liz said gently. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s stupid.” She glanced over to the café. “It’s probably all in my head. I’m blowing things out of proportion. Forget it.”

  Liz glanced over to the café at Shane. “Guy trouble.”

  “Actually no trouble at all. Everything’s effing perfect.”

  Liz raised a brow and called over to the source of Rachel’s misery. “Hey, Shane!”

  Shane waved and smiled. Rachel hadn’t seen that smile directed at her in weeks.

  “I’m going to check out your café,” Liz said.

  Rachel stayed behind while Liz went over to check it out. She kept her nose in her book, ignoring the friendly conversation between Liz and Shane. He was definitely giving Rachel the cold shoulder. It was subtle, but she felt that distance big time. A short while later Liz returned.

  “You guys are doing a great job,” Liz said, taking a seat behind the counter next to Rachel. “I love the wall color.”

  Rachel managed a smile. “Thanks, I picked it.”

  “Nice. So what do you need to do still? The floors and maybe something for the walls?”

  “Yup. Shane ordered another refrigerated case for the baked goods and a small refrigerator for under the counter.”

  “Did you pick out tables and chairs or are you going to use what’s in there?”

  Rachel warmed to the topic. “We’ve got stuff coming, but we want the floors in first.”

  “I love the cute hanging light fixtures.”

  Rachel smiled. “I picked those out too. Shane’s going to put up some floating shelves for the first editions I want to display. I’ve already got some book cover posters waiting in my apartment. We’ll put those up last.”

  “So you’re décor, and he’s food and drink,” Liz said.

  “Basically. Though we did shop together for a lot of stuff. But once it opens, he’s the food and drink supplier, and I run the place.”

  “Sounds like the perfect partnership,” Liz said.

  “Yup, perfect,” Rachel said. Somehow the words deflated her.

  “But…” Liz prompted.

  Liz knew her inside out, and there was no use hiding anything from her. Rachel took off her glasses and cleaned them on the bottom of her shirt. Some things were easier to talk about without the sharp focus of eye contact.

  “Shane’s been really distant,” Rachel whispered. “Like really distant. I don’t even think he wants to be friends anymore.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true. I’ve never known Shane to just drop a friend. He’s still friends with people he knew back in New Jersey from when he was in sixth grade. I think he’s even still friends with all of his ex-girlfriends.”

  Well, that was comforting. Rachel slid her glasses back on. “So it’s just me.”

  Liz looked over and watched Shane help set up a huge coffee machine. “Shane doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. If he’s distant, I don’t think he’s doing it to hurt you.”

  “Why else would he do it?”

  “Did you ask him for space? Tell him to back off?”

  Rachel squirmed. “Kind of. I told him we were business partners, end of conversation.”

  Liz cringed. “Now don’t take this the wrong way—”

  “Nothing good can follow those words.”

  “You can be a little…harsh sometimes.”

  “I didn’t say it harsh! I just said it like a fact.” Rachel threw her hands up. “It is a fact!”

  Liz lowered her hand for Rachel to keep it down. “I think you hurt him. You know he cares about you. But you basically told him to back off. I think he’s just doing what you want.”

  His words came back to her: It’s your move. I’m not going anywhere.

  But Rachel didn’t want to make a move. She wanted things back like they used to be. She twisted her hands around and looked over at Shane. “I want us to be friends again. How can I fix this?”

  “Just give him time. He never holds a grudge. I’m sure he’ll warm up again.”

  “Rach, come check this bad boy out,” Shane called.

  “See?” Liz said. “He’s not being mean.”

  “I never said he was mean,” Rachel muttered as she headed over to the café. It was more like a cool distance. Rachel joined him to admire the new coffee-brewing wonder. It was shiny silver and black with a lot of buttons and switches. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. Let me show you how it works. First we have to grind the beans.” He opened a bag of coffee beans. “I ordered several for us to try before we finalize the menu. These are from Peru, medium roast.” He sniffed the beans and nodded in approval before holding out the bag for her to smell. She did.

  “They smell a little like berries,” she said.

  He smiled, seeming pleased with her remark. “Very good. A lot of the Latin American beans smell like berries. The beans from Ethiopia are more like lemongrass. You’ll see. It depends where they’re grown. I want to try out a few beans before we decide on some unique blends and flavors for the shop.”

  “Okay.”

  “So next we grind the beans. They go in here.” He measured and poured some into the grinder. “We want to only grind small batches just before we’re ready to brew the coffee. It’s really important that everything is fresh for the best flavor.”

  He kept talking, explaining the process from beans to grounds to brew, and Rachel’s spirits lifted. She really should be taking notes or committing it to memory, but all she could hear was the enthusiasm in his voice. She soaked in the way his blue eyes lit up, his passion clear for the tools and techniques that led to great coffee. She’d missed this relaxed vibe between them.

  “Pretty cool,” Rachel said when he’d wound down. She smiled brightly. “How soon until we get to try it?”

  His expression shut down. “Still a way off,” he muttered. “I want to run it through a few test cycles.” He turned his attention back to the machine, seeming to remember the wall he’d put between them.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll be here.”

  She drooped back to her store. Somehow in trying to hang onto their friendship, she’d ruined it.

  ~ ~ ~

  Shane spent the rest of the afternoon testing the brewer, a higher-end model than he had in his own shop, making up small batches of coffee in the thermal carafes he’d ordered. He’d have to teach Rachel how to operate the espresso machine and his older coffee brewer once he moved them over here from his shop. He set out a series of coffee mugs for their coffee tasting and headed over to Book It.

  Rachel had her head bent over a book, sitting alone at the counter. She played with the end of her braid, a sure sign she was deep into the story. He toyed with the idea of sneaking up behind her—it was a perfect scare setup when she had her nose in a book—but he didn’t want her to topple off the stool and hurt her ankle again. He settled for his old standby and placed his hand over the page she was reading.

  Her head snapped up, eyes wide. He smiled. He’d surprised her just by existing. The way she got lost in a book was the way he got lost in a good cooking groove.

  “Shane, hi,” she said, her voice a near squeak. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “I know, I know. You always say I’m like a cat, but really I think you’re just lost in…” He lifted the book to read the title. “Pride and Prejudice aga
in, huh?”

  “It’s a classic,” she said defensively.

  He took her hand and tugged. “Come on. It’s time. Get it while it’s at its peak.”

  She stiffened. “That sounds dirty.”

  He stopped, intrigued. “What sounds dirty?”

  She blushed and waved her hand. “Never mind. It smells wonderful.”

  They headed to the café, and he stepped behind the counter to pour the cups. She stayed on the other side of the counter.

  “This is called cupping,” he said.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why does everything that comes out of your mouth sound dirty? Are you doing that on purpose?”

  He grinned, getting a big kick out of where her mind obviously was. He’d only said two things that she’d misinterpreted. “That’s all you. You’re hearing what you want to hear.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “It most certainly is not me. You said cupping.” She cupped a hand in front of her that might have been cupping a man. Intimately. The message went straight to his groin. He shifted closer to the counter to hide the evidence.

  He cleared his throat and focused on the coffee mugs. “Cupping is coffee tasting. So we’ve got a light roast, medium, dark, and a hazelnut. This is just straight up, no cream, no sugar, no foam. It’s pretty strong so don’t drink the whole cup. Just a sip.” He started pouring from the thermal carafes he’d prepared ahead of time. “First, take a big whiff to get the aroma, then a loud slurp so the coffee goes to the back of your tongue. Pay attention to the mouthfeel, the texture as it runs over your tongue. Notice the flavor, the aftertaste.”

  He glanced up to find Rachel staring at him, lips parted. It took everything he had not to reach across the counter and answer that look in her eyes. She shook her head and stared at the counter. “You’re doing it again.”

  “What?”

  “You keep talking about mouthfeel and flavor and taste,” she told the counter.

  He tipped her chin up and gazed into her chocolate brown eyes. “That’s what food is all about. Are you ready to get started?”

  The question hung in the air between them. This time he’d fully intended the double meaning. He wanted to know if she was ready to start things between them. Their kiss before had been a taste. He wanted to feast on her and savor all the flavors in between.

  She said nothing, merely picked up a cup of coffee and breathed it in. Dammit. He had his answer. Not ready.

  He picked up the mug next to hers and took a whiff. “This is the light roast. It packs a wallop of caffeine. Taste it. Just one slurping sip.”

  They both slurped. It had a slight, grainy flavor that was pleasant, not overwhelming.

  “Tastes a little bit like malt or barley,” Rachel said.

  Shane smiled and inclined his head, glad she was attuned to the subtleties of flavor. He’d enjoy cooking for her.

  “I like the mouthfeel,” he told her, lowering his voice a notch just to tease her. “Rich body, some flowery notes in the aftertaste.”

  She squirmed and focused on the mug in her hand. “Yes, I agree. Next!”

  He chuckled and poured them both a glass of water. “Here, take a drink to cleanse your palate.”

  She watched him over the rim of her glass. He was tempted, very tempted. In three short weeks the café would open. Then he’d go back to working at his shop and just be the supplier to the café. Maybe then, she’d drop all this nonsense about them keeping things strictly business between them. They wouldn’t be working together in the same space. He could wait. He’d waited months to make a move in the first place. Thinking again of that move, that damned kiss that replayed in his mind on a daily and nightly basis, he handed Rachel the next mug, letting his fingers brush her hand.

  She blushed but didn’t meet his eyes or say a word. Stubborn woman.

  They finished tasting the coffee and decided all of them were good, except for the dark roast. It was too bitter. He’d look for another dark roast through his coffee-bean supplier, and they’d try again.

  “I’ve got a different kind of taste-testing planned for Thursday night,” Shane said. He was starting to enjoy teasing her. He loved seeing her blush, something she did rarely, as nothing seemed to faze her. “You in?”

  She pursed her lips and eyed him suspiciously. “What kind of taste-testing?”

  You.

  God, he wished he could just say that and follow through. Like now. He busied himself rinsing the mugs in the sink. “I always do a practice run on my family before anything hits the menu. We’re all meeting at Gran’s house to try out the baked goods I’ve been working on.”

  He glanced up. Her mouth formed what he’d call a pout on anyone else, except he’d never, ever seen Rachel pout. Was she hoping for a different answer?

  “Oh,” she said softly.

  He considered her disappointment a good sign. Teasing Rachel was a little like setting a pot to boil and then watching it. The progress was excruciatingly slow, but she’d get there just the same. He just hoped the resulting boilover was in his favor. He was flying without a net here, something he normally didn’t like to do, but with Rachel he hadn’t found a better way. The direct approach hadn’t worked. At all.

  She took off her glasses and cleaned them on the bottom of her “Reader Love” T-shirt, exposing a glimpse of the smooth, olive skin of her midriff. His mouth went dry, and he took a long drink of water.

  She shoved her glasses back on. “Sure, I’ll be there.”

  “Great. Do you want to invite your family too? It’s always good to have a variety of opinions.”

  She made a face. “Your family is plenty.”

  “Too much, huh?”

  “No, your family is great. Mine’s just better in small doses. Like once a week.”

  He shrugged. He’d met her family plenty of times around town and in his shop; they were nice. Rachel probably had something or another that bugged her about them. Most people did bug her, but not him. Least not until he’d started teasing her.

  “Help me load these mugs into the dishwasher in back,” he said, gathering up some mugs. “I’ll show you how the machine works.”

  “Sure.” She grabbed some mugs, and they headed to the back storage area, where a commercial dishwasher sat. They loaded them in.

  “It’s pretty simple,” Shane said. “The detergent, sanitizer, and rinse aid are already in the pumps. Back here.” He pulled the control panel forward to show her, then closed it. “Then you just shut the door and hit on.”

  “Easy enough,” Rachel said, peering closely at the dishwasher, seemingly unaware of how close she was to him. He could feel her heat and breathed in her flowery scent.

  Don’t do it. Do not kiss her. It has to be her move.

  She met his eyes and jumped back, her hand going to her throat. “I guess we’re good here. I’d better get back to the shop.”

  She walked away as fast as she could.

  “Busy over there?” he called, knowing she wasn’t. He was calling her out on avoiding him whenever they got too close. This attraction between them wasn’t going away no matter how much she danced around it.

  She gave him the finger over her shoulder.

  He shook his head, smiling to himself. For once he didn’t have to tiptoe around a woman and worry about upsetting her, taking care of her tender feelings. Rachel gave as good as she got. He couldn’t wait to see exactly how much she’d give when he finally got her to cross that line in the sand she’d drawn. It would happen soon. He could feel it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rachel got to Maggie’s house a little early on Thursday night and quickly realized her mistake. It was just her, Maggie, and Shane. The older woman took the opportunity to do what she did best—butt in.

  “Rachel, I’m so glad you’re here to get a taste of Shane’s stuff.” Maggie waggled her eyebrows. The brow waggle paired with her outfit—a pink knitted tube top and matching knitted beret—would have been comical if Rachel wasn’t
on guard against further matchmaking.

  “Gran,” Shane warned. He was setting out platters of baked goods on the dining room table—scones, sweet breads, muffins, danishes, tarts, mini-pies.

  “He’s a great cook,” Rachel said, refusing to rise to the bait.

  “And how are things going with the café?” Maggie asked. “What was the name again?” She tapped her chin. “Something’s brewing between friends?”

  “Ha-ha,” Rachel said.

  Maggie pinned her with a sharp gaze. “So what’s stopping you, girl? My Shane is a catch. And he’s not getting any younger. Thirty-one is plenty old enough to settle down.”

  Rachel glanced at a blushing Shane, who was looking at the ceiling, probably praying for strength to deal with his grandmother.

  “I’ll fetch some drinks from the kitchen,” Rachel said, hurrying away. Shane’s voice rumbled in reply to his grandmother, and she heard Maggie’s snappy reply loud and clear.

  “Make your move. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife!”

  Shane rumbled something that sounded distinctly annoyed. Rachel stayed hidden in the kitchen, praying for the doorbell to ring. Instead Maggie joined her.

  “It seems some people—” Maggie called loudly in Shane’s direction “—think I’ve overstepped my bounds. Sorry.”

  Only she didn’t sound sorry. At all.

  “That’s okay,” Rachel said.

  Maggie grabbed some plates and forks. “Did I ever tell you about when Shane first started baking in seventh grade? He came to me after his mother died, so sad and nearly mute. In fact, he was mute at school.”

  Rachel remembered him as quiet. She hadn’t realized he never spoke.

  Maggie went on. “We spent hours right here in this very kitchen. Cooking healed him. Everything he makes he pours his heart and soul into, so when you sample one of his recipes, just know that it comes from love.”

  Rachel blinked rapidly. “Um, okay.”

  Maggie exhaled sharply and lowered her voice. “He’s not much of a fighter. Oh, he’ll kick ass if he has to, but he’d rather get along.” She wagged her finger. “Just remember that. If you push him too far away, he might not come back.”