Bad Taste in Men (Clover Park, Book 3) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) (19 page)

She met his eyes. He stared back, his expression fierce, and an unwelcome frisson of desire ran through her. She pushed back from the table.

He watched her as she stood and gathered the papers.

“We’re not finished,” she said. “I’ll be back soon with a new check.”

She headed for the door. He grabbed her arm and whirled her around. She gasped. She hadn’t even heard him get up.

“You’ve got one thing right,” he said, invading her personal space. She took a step back, but his hand was suddenly at the small of her back, keeping her close. “We’re not finished.”

His mouth met hers in a hard kiss. She put her hands up to his chest, pushing him away, but then he gentled the kiss, and her hands weren’t pushing anymore, instead roaming over the hard planes of his warm chest. He took his time, slow and tender, and she surrendered to it, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into him.

He pulled back to gaze into her eyes. His arms still held her close in a loose embrace. “Rach, I’m all-in.”

She swallowed hard. “I-I don’t want you to have to do this.”

“I’m
in
. The question is, do you have the guts to go all-in too?”

Her heart pounded in her ears. “I’ll try my best to make the café work, but I still feel—”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Shane, please. You’re making this very difficult.”

His expression shuttered closed, and he dropped his arms, releasing her from his embrace. “Yeah, well, you’re no picnic either.”

He turned and left out the back door of his shop.

Rachel stood there for a minute, speechless.

Was Shane right? Was she too scared to give a relationship a chance? She’d never had a serious relationship. Was that why she’d hooked up with losers in the past? She’d thought she’d just been unlucky. Cursed. But now…

Shit. He was right.

She was scared. Very scared. But what was worse? Her fear of a real relationship and all the possible ways things could go wrong or her fear of losing Shane?

~ ~ ~

Rachel had a restless night, thinking of Shane and his sacrifice. His question ran on repeat through her head:
do you have the guts to go all-in too?
When she finally dragged herself out of bed, she had no good answer.

Mid-morning, he stopped by to check on the café, and she walked over, needing to talk. She found him in the back assembling shelves.

“Were you ever going to tell me about selling the Shelby?” she asked.

He looked up, still holding a shelf in place. “No. I didn’t do it for any thanks. It means more when you do something without needing to take credit. Know what I mean?”

She’d never known anyone who went around doing good deeds anonymously.

“I guess,” she said.

He tapped the shelf into place with a mallet. “When I finish here, come back to my shop and I’ll teach you how to work the espresso machine.”

“Okay.”

A short while later, she followed Shane across the street, determined to make the best of their partnership and make their café a success. It was the least she could do for all that he’d sacrificed. They started with the espresso grinder to grind a fresh batch of Mexican dark roast beans.

“You want a very fine grind for the espresso," he said before he poured the beans in. "That’s why I have a separate grinder for it.”

She caught herself checking out his very firm ass and forced her gaze back to the grinder. It was the lack of sleep. It made her weak.

“Good to know,” Rachel said, her voice coming out all breathy and Marilyn Monroe-like.

Get a hold of yourself! He’s trying to teach you something very important!

Shane raised a brow, and any further conversation was stopped by the loud noise of the grinder. He took the container of espresso grounds and showed her.

“Take a pinch,” he told her, doing the same. “Slide it between your fingers. We want it to feel like grains of sand. If it feels like sugar, it’s too coarse. Flour-feel is also no good.”

Rachel slid it between her fingers. “Definitely sand.”

He nodded. “You’ll grind the next batch and keep doing it until you know exactly how long it takes in the grinder to get sand.”

“Okay,” she breathed. She gave herself a quick mental slap. She sounded like she’d been running a marathon instead of standing in his shop learning about espresso. She focused on the ice-cream menu, trying to cool it. She caught his efficient movements out of the corner of her eye as he moved over to the espresso machine. Shane standing there in a T-shirt, athletic shorts, and apron was disturbingly sexy.

It wasn’t her fault she was feeling lusty. He was the one that kissed her. Twice long, twice quick. She often thought of those long kisses.

“C’mere,” he said, to which she responded by rushing over in a lust-filled haze.

“I measured out the grounds,” he said. “So now we put it into the portafilter and we tamp the grounds.” He picked up a wooden mushroom-shaped tool and set the portafilter on a steel plate on the back countertop. Then he pounded the grounds down, twisting the tamper to flatten them further. Rachel’s eyes shifted from the tool in his hand to the play of muscles through his biceps and the corded muscle running down his forearm. He stopped and turned to her. She dragged her gaze back to his face.

He smiled, almost a smirk. She smiled back, forgiving his arrogance in light of the male beauty he presented before her. She really did appreciate his trips to the gym now.

He handed her the tool and gave the portafilter a shake. “Give it a try. We want to pack it down so it has good resistance to the hot water pouring through.”

She slammed the tamper down and nearly knocked the whole thing over.

“Easy,” he said, coming up behind her and placing his hands over hers. “We’re tamping it, not killing it.”

She nodded vigorously, enfolded in his warmth. She loosened her grip and let him guide her to the proper tamp. Heat ran through her as she remembered their kiss from yesterday. Just when she thought she might have the courage to turn in his arms and make her move, he stopped and pulled away.

“Looks good,” he said. “Now we attach it to the group, where the hot water comes out. Make sure it’s in there firmly; otherwise the water pressure will push everything out the sides of the portafilter and make a mess. Believe me, I know.”

“Firmly,” she repeated on a sigh. He attached the portafilter to the machine, and Rachel breathed in the scent of espresso and clean, sexy male. She leaned closer, up on tiptoe; even his hair smelled good.

He froze. “Are you smelling my hair?”

She jolted backward. “No. I was smelling the espresso.”

He gave her a suspicious look. “Sure seemed like you were smelling my hair.”

“Nope.” She played with the end of her braid. “So what’s next?”

“We’ve got to brew quickly, like now, or the espresso grounds will start to deteriorate.” He pressed a button and spoke over the noise of the machine. “It’s delicate.” A moment later, he stopped and showed her the cup of espresso. “Twenty seconds of brewing is ideal. Check out the foam, that’s the crema where the sugar is concentrated. We want it a quarter-inch thick and lasting about a minute before it breaks apart.”

Rachel pretended to watch the foam while she pondered how to make a move without being too obvious. Maybe she’d pull out her braid and shake out her hair. Or slide her shirt off one shoulder. No, lick her lips. They always did that in the movies.

“There it is,” he said. “Perfect.” He gave it a sip and handed the cup to her. “Try it.”

She licked her lips, but Shane just stood there waiting for her to sip. She took a sip. “It’s good.”

He nodded. “Next we dump out the grounds and clean the machine. We’ll keep the portafilter in the group so it stays warm.” She watched and sipped the espresso as he efficiently prepared the machine for the next shot.

She felt jittery and a little giddy. She must be hepped up on caffeine. Or Shane. He was her business partner. She shouldn’t let her appreciation for his good deed color her feelings for him. Yet she couldn’t seem to help it. Her eyes trailed down to his firm ass. It was a very nice ass.

He turned. “Eyes up here.”

She blushed furiously. “I wasn’t…I was just lost in thought, and you happened to be in my line of vision.”

“Uh-huh. You’re next.”

Her heart started pounding. “For what?”

He raised his brows. “What do you think?”

She wiped her suddenly clammy hands on her shorts. “I-I don’t know.”

He gave her a strange look. “Are you feeling okay? You’re all flushed and pink.” He put the back of his hand on her forehead. “You feel a little hot.”

I am. I’m way too hot for you.

She stepped away from his hand. Yes, she was hot for him, but she was getting major nerves just thinking about acting on that. Was she ready for what that would open up between them? She knew Shane didn’t do casual. Maybe that’s what had scared her off him in the first place. In high school, he’d dated Kerry Habinowski for three years until she left for college. She’d heard he’d dated a woman from the culinary school for five years. The entire time she’d been back in Clover Park, she hadn’t heard of him dating anyone. Except that one date with Janelle. She had a feeling one hookup wouldn’t cut it for Shane with someone he really cared about.

With her.

Her pulse raced. Did she have the guts to go all-in?

Would she end up losing him?

He smiled and said gently, “It’s your turn to make an espresso.”

“Oh! Okay.” She turned to the espresso grinder and found she couldn’t remember a single thing he’d just taught her. She hadn’t been paying attention to anything but the play of his muscles as he worked and her debate over whether or not to make a move. God, she was pathetic. She turned to him. “Little hint here?”

He smiled. “Yup.”

He spent hours going over and over the process with her until she could have made the perfect espresso in her sleep. Not that sleep would come anytime soon from all the caffeine she drank. She spent another restless night thinking of Shane. Neal was a very poor substitute.

Chapter Fifteen

Shane headed for the street-fair meeting at the library at the end of what had turned out to be a great day. The café was looking fantastic. He’d been prepared for the inevitable bumps along the way of working with various contractors and product delivery, but everything had been going smoothly. Today the flooring guys showed up on time and finished the floor in one day. The dark laminate wood really made the red of the walls pop. The furniture would be delivered Thursday morning.

“Hey there, handsome,” Miss Smith called with a wiggle of her fingers. She’d gone from friendly to blatant flirting as he’d been at the library every Monday night this summer.

He blushed anyway.
Dammit
. “Hi, Miss Smith, how are you?”

“I’m very well, thank you.” She craned her neck as he passed, clearly checking him out from behind.

What could he do? He was senior-citizen eye candy. He smiled to himself, remembering how he’d caught Rachel doing the same thing last week when he’d taught her to make espresso. Rachel was definitely warming up to the idea of moving things to the next level. She’d been smiling at him more ever since she found out he’d sold the Shelby. If he’d known it would get this kind of reaction, he might have mentioned it sooner. All this week she’d been touching his arm a lot, and he’d caught her watching him as he worked at the café with the workmen. Good signs, but not enough. He wanted her all-in, plain and simple. No more of this two steps forward, one step back.

He headed to the conference room where Rachel and Liz sat, relieved to see Barry hadn’t arrived yet.

“Hey, Shane,” Liz said. “Rachel told me the flooring went in. You guys are so close now!”

Shane grinned. “It looks awesome. Tomorrow we get the furniture. Rach, stop by after the furniture goes in and show me where you want the floating shelves and book posters, and I’ll put them up.”

“Great!” Rachel smiled warmly.

Shane smiled back, soaking all that warmth in.

“One more week,” Shane said.

“Are you guys ready?” Liz asked.

“I think so,” Rachel said. “The place is nearly done. All the kitchen stuff is in. Shane’s training the barista I hired this week.”

Shane nodded. “I came up with some iced coffee and iced tea recipes with different flavored syrups since it’s still blazing hot out.”

“Hello, hello!” Barry called as he walked in. He unfurled a large banner across the conference table. “I made a sign.”

It read Clover Park Summer Street Fair. And then in pink neon letters underneath that: Sponsored by The Dancing Cow!

“Oh, hell no,” Shane said.

“No,” Rachel said.

Barry frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think this will work,” Rachel said gently. “This is an event to boost all the businesses, not just yours. Besides, you didn’t sponsor the fair. We don’t even have sponsors.”

“I contributed the kiddie entertainment and negotiated a good savings,” Barry said.

“No deal,” Shane said.

“How much would a sponsorship cost?” Barry asked.

Gabe arrived, took one look at the banner, and chortled. “Shane, you should have sponsored too, then your name could be on there. Maybe in sparkly purple.”

“We don’t have sponsors,” Shane said between his teeth.

“Now, wait a minute,” Rachel said. She turned to Barry. “How much would you like to contribute?”

“Rach!” Shane protested.

“Five thousand dollars,” Barry said.

“Five thousand dollars!” Shane exclaimed.

Gabe whistled under his breath. “Let the man sponsor it. None of you have that kind of money.”

Rachel turned to Barry. “Thank you, Barry.”

Barry beamed. The man looked like a lovesick cow. Pathetic. Shane realized with a start, he probably looked the same way when he looked at Rachel. She
was
an amazing woman.

Liz looked around the table. “I think it’s a good idea. With that money, we could do a lot of advertising to draw people from all over. Not to mention, any extra could go into future chamber of commerce events. Maybe a trick-or-treating party, or a holiday stroll with carolers and horse-drawn carriages. There’s a lot you could do with five thousand dollars.”