Bad Taste in Men (Clover Park, Book 3) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) (27 page)

He said none of that, knowing it would get back to Rachel. He didn’t want other people negotiating between them. He wanted Rachel all-in. He wanted her heart.

“Thanks, Liz,” he muttered.

She smiled and patted his arm. Shane continued his run as something very close to despair seeped into his bones.

~ ~ ~

Rachel had her usual chaotic Monday morning as the commuter rush hit the café. She probably should hire another barista, but it was so gratifying to see the profits rolling in, she just couldn’t do it. She wanted to pay for her part of the partnership and buy out Shane. Now more than ever she needed to be the boss—complete control, full ownership, reporting to no one. Being in business with Shane had ruined everything.

She crossed back to Book It with her latte and sighed. Not that the café, or her, seemed to matter to him anymore. He hadn’t returned to the café ever since the failed health inspection. He sent over his supplies through Ron. He didn’t help her close up shop either. Every night when she did the task alone, she thought of him. Of the way they used to work side by side, cleaning and prepping for the next day, both knowing what came next. Their time together upstairs in her apartment. She pushed that thought away. Amazing sex does not a happy-ever-after make.

She missed talking to him. She loved their daily chats, the casual sharing of confidences. As soon as she could, she’d pay him back; then maybe they could at least be friends again. Her dad was right. She never should’ve borrowed money from a friend.

The day dragged on, with only a few people stopping into Book It, and Rachel’s mood sank to an all-time low. She wanted so badly to fix things with Shane, but without the money to pay him back, she was stuck. The bank had turned down her second attempt to get a loan. Not enough time had passed with profits to make her a good risk.

A car horn honked insistently in front of her shop. She ignored it.

Beep-beep-beep-beep!

She stood and went out front to tell them to knock it off. It was a shiny red Mustang convertible.
All right, hot shot, this is a quiet town
. But then she saw who it was—Maggie. The woman was nuts in the best kind of way.

Rachel stopped at the car. “Hey, Maggie, what’s up?”

Maggie pushed huge round sunglasses to the top of her head. Her leopard-print bodysuit left nothing to the imagination.
Oy!
“I’ll tell you what’s up, girlie, we’re going for a ride.”

Rachel looked back to her shop. “I don’t close for two more hours.”

Maggie craned her neck to peer around Rachel. “Nobody’s in there. Put up that closed sign and hop in.”

It would be a relief from the constant rehashing over where things had gone wrong with Shane and how she was going to come up with the money to make things right again.

“Okay,” she said. She ran inside, grabbed her purse, flipped the sign to Closed, and locked up. She slid into the passenger seat. “Where to?”

Maggie pulled out onto Main Street and headed out of town. “It’s a surprise. You like surprises?”

“Sure, surprise me.”

“So how’s the café?” Maggie asked.

“It’s great. We’re clearing a profit, and more people are coming in every day. Plus we have lots of repeat customers.”

“I heard about your coffee reward card. Very smart.”

Rachel smiled. “Thanks.”

At least Shane’s grandmother appreciated her marketing efforts, unlike her big lunkhead of a grandson.

Maggie hit the highway and floored it. The wind whipped around them, and Rachel could barely hear Maggie over the radio and the wind whipping past. She pushed some hair behind her ear that had escaped her braid. The older woman was saying something about tea or coffee or maybe she said toffee? Rachel just smiled and nodded.

Finally, they pulled into a parking lot with a lot of old and classic cars. The sign on the large garage read Exotic and Classic Restorations. Maggie got out, and Rachel looked around in confusion.

“Are you buying a new car?” she asked, surprised because the convertible looked brand new.

“Come with me,” Maggie sang, heading to the side of the garage where a door led into a small office. “Hello-oo-oo, I’m looking for Kevin.”

“Just a minute,” a receptionist said. She hit the intercom. “Kevin, someone to see you.”

Kevin, a middle-aged man with a full head of white hair, came out of the work area in coveralls. “I’m Kevin.”

“Hi, Kevin, I’m Maggie O’Hare. We spoke on the phone. This is my friend Rachel. Can you show us that surprise?”

Kevin grinned. “Sure. I keep her under lock and key in my private garage. Right this way.”

Rachel followed with a sinking feeling. They walked to the back of the property. Kevin punched in a code, and the garage door opened. An older model shiny red Mustang. This had to be the Shelby. The car was gorgeous. Shane giving it up was even worse than she’d thought. Guilt swamped her.

Kevin gestured to the car. “Check her out.”

“Can I get in?” Maggie asked. “I’ve missed it.”

“Of course.”

Maggie waved Rachel over to the passenger side while she got in to the driver’s side.

“This was my departed husband Patrick’s car,” Maggie said. “It’s a Shelby Mustang. See the signature.” She pointed to the glove box in front of Rachel. “He took such good care of it. Only took it out on sunny days. We’d take these adventures, driving to beautiful parks for picnics, cruising the highway. It’s a powerful car.” She turned and looked Rachel in the eye. “It makes you feel
alive
to ride in one of these.”

“Spoken like a true Shelby lover,” Kevin said from outside the garage, where he was smoking.

“Maggie, I’m sorry,” Rachel said. “I wish I could buy it back.”

Maggie shook her head, fondling the wood steering wheel. “After Patrick died, it sat in the garage for years, untouched. Then when my son, Jack, moved nearby, sober again, I gave it to him so he’d have a project. My boy always did love cars. And after many, many weekends of working with Shane to fully restore it, he gave it to him.”

“I tried to pay Shane so he could get the car back,” Rachel said over the tightness in her throat. “I gave him a check from another investor, and he ripped it to bits.”

Maggie raised her brows. “That sounds like my Shane. It’s not about the money. This is your café. He did it to make your dream come true.”

Her voice came out small. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I wanted you to see with your own eyes what you mean to Shane.”

She turned despairing eyes to Maggie. “How can I ever repay him?”

Maggie patted her hand. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Just remember it’s not about the money.”

Rachel’s stomach churned. She had no clue what to do. She just had this awful, awful feeling that she’d been in the wrong all this time, not Shane.

They drove back to Clover Park with the wind whipping through their hair. Rachel was too depressed to even attempt conversation.

Maggie dropped her off at the front door of her shop. “See you soon!”

Rachel waved weakly, completely bypassing Book It and slipping into the café. She sat down in the shop, only a few people were hanging out in it, writer-types with laptops. She barely heard Tanya’s cheerful greeting. She just stared at the table. She owed Shane so much. And how had she repaid him? By kicking his ass. She could at least apologize for that. The rest she hoped she’d figure out when she saw him.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Shane was behind the counter of his shop, feeling tense and restless. Things were slow at his shop now that the weather had cooled. He went to the back to the kitchen, thinking of baking something with pumpkin for the café. Maybe he’d make pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. He’d just started gathering ingredients when he heard the bell from the shop indicating he had a customer. He went back behind the counter. Rachel.

He blew out a breath. He wouldn’t bring up the café or the health inspection or the need for more staff. He missed her way too much to get into all that.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said softly.

When she said nothing else, he looked around to see what he might have on hand that she’d like. “Want some ice cream? I’ve got a new flavor. Honey swirl.”

He’d created the flavor with her in mind. He always said she tasted like honey. It had been a hit in the shop too.

Her gaze jerked to his. He smiled. She remembered all right.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

Dammit
. When a woman wanted to talk, it was usually about the relationship. And the way things had ended the last time he’d seen her, this couldn’t be good.

He took off his apron and joined her at a table. “What did you want to talk about?”

Her chocolate brown eyes met his, full of remorse. “I want to apologize for kicking your ass the other day. It was wrong. Vio—”

He held up a hand. “You
tried
to kick my ass. You didn’t actually kick my ass.”

She waved that away. “I knocked you down, and I was punching—”

“You didn’t kick my ass,” he barked.

“Um, okay.” Her eyes darted to the side. “Anyway—”

“You could never kick my ass. No lightweight has ever kicked my ass.”

She nodded. “Okay. I, uh, know I can never repay you for all you’ve done, but—”

“I thought we covered this. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Are you ever coming back to the café?”

“Do you want me to?”

She stared at him, her expression serious. “I want to be in charge.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

Her shoulders drooped. “I have to get back. I’ll see ya.” Her voice came out sounding choked at the end.

He didn’t mean to upset her. “Rach, wait.”

She waved a hand behind her back and kept going.

“I love you!”

She froze, and he held his breath, waiting for her to come back to him, hoping she’d say the same.

But to his utter alarm, Rachel, his strong, sarcastic, tough Rachel, turned around and broke down in tears.

~ ~ ~

Rachel was so embarrassed about crying in front of Shane, but she couldn’t seem to stop the tears now that they were flowing. She never cried. It was just that Shane was so loving and so sweet, and she’d almost thrown it all away. She felt strong arms around her, and then she was in his lap, sobbing into his shirt. She could hear the steady thump of his heart beating strong and true.

She grabbed a napkin off the table and wiped her tears. Then she blew her nose in it and crumpled it in her hand.

He stroked her hair. “Tell me why you’re crying.”

“Because I finally realized that the problem I needed to fix, the thing that was wrong with this relationship was me!” She sobbed again, feeling absolutely ridiculous, but unable to stop. “I’m Mr. Darcy!”

“You’re who?”

She sniffled. “I’m the arrogant cad brought low by love!” Fresh tours poured down her cheeks.

He wiped some tears away with his thumbs. “Oh, Mr. Darcy. Am I Elizabeth Bennet? Cuz I gotta say—”

“No, you’re just Shane,” she choked out. “Perfect Shane.”

“Honey, I’m not perfect.”

“You’re a lot closer to perfect than me.” Her shoulders sagged. “You’ve done everything you could to show me you loved me, you confronted my stalker, you sold your inheritance—” she threw her hands up, and the napkin went flying “—you bought all those cookbooks! Who knows what other wonderful things you did! And what did I do? I pushed you away.”

“No—”

“Yes! You know I did!”

One corner of his mouth curled up. “Maybe a little.”

She nodded vigorously. “A lot! First I told myself we were just friends and no more when I always knew…”

“Knew what, sweetheart?”

“I always knew I had strong feelings for you,” she admitted.

He kissed her hair.

She wasn’t done. “And then once we hooked up, I told myself we could only be business partners, but then I kept sleeping with you. And every day I fought with you again, trying to keep things all business and failing miserably.” His warm hand rubbed her back. “And then when you got mad about the business side of things, I tried to end that too.”

“But I didn’t go for it.”

She looked at him. “No, you didn’t. And then…I saw the Shelby, Shane! It’s gorgeous! I can’t believe you gave up that car!”

He shook his head. “Gran,” he muttered.

She took off her glasses and wiped them clean from the tears. “I owe you too much. Too much money, too much making up for how I treated you.” She slid her glasses back on. “I mean, I kicked your ass when—”

“I think we’ve already established that you did
not
kick my ass.”

She smiled through her tears, and he kissed her. She kissed him back, taking every bit of comfort she could, missing this part of him, of feeling connected so fully to someone who knew her so very well.

She pulled back and stroked his strong jaw. “I love you. It scares me, but I do.” She shook her head in amazement. “It finally happened for me.”

“I love you too,” he said huskily. “
Amor vincit omnia
.”

She bit her lip. “Love conquers all.”

He smiled. “I was saving that one. Let’s get out of here.”

Shane locked up, and they walked outside. Rachel stopped on the sidewalk and took a deep breath for courage. Now that they were together, really together, she didn’t ever want to be apart. She pulled her keychain from her purse. She slid off the key to her apartment and gave it to him. “I want us to have a place together. I don’t want to be away from you anymore. I want to be with you every day and every night.”

He closed his hand around the key. “Are you sure? Be sure. Because once I move in, I’m never gonna leave.”

She nodded, her eyes stinging with tears. “I’m sure.”

He gathered her in a warm embrace and kissed her tenderly. “Let’s go home.”

They walked to her place, and Shane stopped at the door to kiss her. She threw herself into the kiss, her hands running all over him, needing to feel that closeness with him again. Her entire world narrowed down to simple burning need. He broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes with a hungry look. She knew they were both thinking the same thing—bed. Now.