Bad Taste in Men (Clover Park, Book 3) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) (8 page)

“Peep.”

Then louder, “Peep!”

Rachel giggled. That set the kids off.

“Peep!”

“Peep-peep!”

“Pee-pee-pee-peeeeeep!”

By the time they arrived at their parents’ house, the kids had moved on to chicken clucks and rooster calls, and Rachel joined in with a donkey hee-haw that had the kids in hysterics.

“Shabbat shalom, everyone!” her mom called, greeting them at the door. “Give Grandma a kiss.” She reached out and hugged and kissed each grandchild as they went inside. David wiped off his kiss as soon as he got inside.

The house smelled of brisket and potatoes. Rachel had brought a strawberry and rhubarb pie she’d picked up at Garner’s. Sarah and Mark brought the wine.

“How’re my girls?” her dad asked.

Rachel bit back a sarcastic reply. They were “his girls” exactly one night of the week. Otherwise, he was all work, all the time, the hell with the rest of them. Her dad was the CFO of a major investment firm.

“Good,” Sarah said, hugging him. “How are you, Dad?”

“Can’t complain.”

Rachel hugged her dad too. “How’re the Yanks doing?”

It was literally the only topic he would talk about besides finance. He’d grown up in Brooklyn and was a die-hard Yankees fan. Rachel could’ve cared less about baseball, but hearing him go off about work stuff was worse.

“They’re hanging in there,” her dad said. “Forty-two and forty. Here, have a seat on my chair. We’ll recline it so you can elevate your ankle.”

“It’s not necessary. I’m fine,” Rachel said.

“I insist,” he said.

“Just do it,” her mom said, “or we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I’m just looking out for our daughter,” her dad said with a tight smile.

“She says she’s fine,” her mom sniped.

“Clearly she’s not fine,
honey
,” her dad said pleasantly
.
Though honey sounded more like
you irritating shrew
. “Rachel wouldn’t be hobbling around if she was fine.”

“I’m not hobbling,” Rachel said, sitting in the stupid chair just to avoid hearing them get into it again. Their fights flared and then quickly moved to a sullen, tense silence. Rachel had enough of that growing up; she didn’t want to hear it on the one night they usually all got along.

The kids got into a spirited game of Candy Land while Sarah took baby Jacob with her to keep their mom company in the kitchen. Then Mark stepped out to the backyard to take a call, so it was just Rachel and her dad.

Her dad turned on the TV and flipped to the Yankees game. Rachel pulled the lever on the recliner to put her feet up and closed her eyes. She still couldn’t believe she was actually going to open a café. If it hadn’t been for Shane, her dream would’ve been dead in the water. He was such a good friend. She’d make sure he didn’t regret his investment.

“How’s Book It?” her dad asked, startling her out of her thoughts. “In the black?”

It was always about the bottom line for her dad. He’d tried to talk her out of opening Book It. He’d said bookstores were dying and she should stick with accounting. It was like he didn’t even know her. She glanced at the TV. A commercial was on. She spoke fast, knowing he’d go back to the TV as soon as the Yanks came on no matter what was going on in her life.

“Book It’s good. I’m going to open a café soon next door. I’m hoping that’ll make Book It the place where people hang out and buy more books.”

He cocked his head. “You really think it’s wise to expand? You’re barely breaking even.”

Thanks for the support, Dad. Always could count on you to be in my corner.

“I think of it more as a diversification,” she said tightly.

Rachel stole that diversification idea from Shane, but thought it sounded pretty good.

“How much did you have to borrow?” her dad asked.

“Actually I got an investor. Shane. He’s more like a partner. He does food; I run the store.”

He shook his head. “Bad idea. I’d never borrow money from family or friends. Or lend it. Here’s why—” he ticked off the reasons on his fingers “—the person investing the money always wants to know what you’re doing with it, they always want to know if you’re being smart about the way you run things, and they keep checking up to see if you’re spending too much.”

“Shane’s not like that. Anyway, he said…” She stopped. He was already back to the game.

She blew out a breath. Why did she keep expecting more from him? When would she learn? She never should have told him about her latest venture. It felt like he’d dropped an ice-cold bucket of harsh reality on her still-fragile dream.

“It’s time to light the candles,” her mom called.

Her dad set the game to record and headed to the dining room. She followed behind, joining everyone around the dining room table set with a white tablecloth and their best china and crystal. Even the kids would be drinking out of crystal goblets. Her dad turned off the lights, and everyone quieted as her mom lit two candles in her dad’s great-grandmother’s silver candlesticks. Her mom waved her hands over the candles to welcome the Sabbath, then covered her eyes with her hands while she recited the blessing. She uncovered her eyes and looked at the candles, signaling the beginning of their Sabbath celebration. Her dad recited the Kiddush prayer while holding a full glass of wine. Next her dad removed the cover from the challah—two sweet braided loaves of bread—lifted the bread and said a blessing before passing it around for everyone to tear a piece off. Rachel loved challah bread.

They sat down for the meal. Her parents sat on opposite ends of the table, at the head and foot, while everyone else filled in between. The scary thing was, even when no one was here to join them for a meal, her parents still sat at opposite ends of the kitchen table. Her dad ate while reading the newspaper in front of his face. Her mom stared at the newspaper from afar, perpetually angry over the noncommunication but refusing to break the silence. It was downright creepy. Would it kill them to talk about it rather than live in tense silence day after day?

Rachel didn’t envy Sarah and Mark’s marriage either. Oh, they got along okay, but Mark was always working, and Sarah spent her days and nights elbow deep in diapers, runny noses, and noise. Her sister had been on the corporate fast-track before kids. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t like kids, she was crazy about her nieces and nephews, but she certainly didn’t want to feel like a single mother doing all the hard work by herself. Sarah didn’t seem to mind having a workaholic husband, but Rachel steered clear of that type.

She wanted someone who was dashing, brooding, arrogant, with barely suppressed passion just waiting for the perfect woman to bring him to heel with her love.

She wanted Mr. Darcy.

She sighed. There were so few of those to go around.
Pride and Prejudice
was her go-to comfort read, and she fell in love with Mr. Darcy all over again every time she read it.

The meal passed pleasantly. The kids took off to watch TV in the pajamas Sarah had brought along while the adults lingered over wine. The wine made her think of Shane and Janelle. Right about now they’d be meeting for drinks at Garner’s. Janelle had told her earlier today. Would they get a little tipsy and move things over to Shane’s place just down the block? Rachel suddenly felt sick and set her wine down.

Shane was free to see whoever he wanted. In fact, the sooner he was part of a couple, the better for their business.

The dinner conversation turned to the stock market, but all Rachel could think about was Janelle and her so-called seduction spell. What the hell did she do anyway? Rachel had never set out to seduce. Things just sort of went that way naturally after dating for a while. She’d never cast a spell. Was Shane vulnerable to that? Would he put out on the first date?

Rachel pushed up from the table. “I’ll get dessert.”

“Thanks, honey,” her mom said. “I’ll help.”

“Me too,” Sarah said.

They made short work of clearing the table. Rachel opened the pie box and sliced the pie. Sarah got out some dessert plates.

“So you and Shane in business together, huh?” her mom said.

“Dad told you?” Rachel was shocked. Her parents hardly ever talked. She always had to tell them news twice, once for her dad’s benefit and once for her mom’s.

“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.