Read Bad Taste in Men (Clover Park, Book 3) Contemporary Romance (The Clover Park Series) for Free Online

thighs, the heat of his back burning through the thin fabric of her panties. Was she really going to ride his back to orgasm up a flight of stairs? She was just about to pound his back and demand he put her down when he snagged her sundae and began to climb the stairs.
    She hung on and bit back a moan as the friction of rocking up and down his back made her go damp. She needed to spend more time with her vibrator if she could get off on a piggy-back ride. Dear Lord, she’d never even hugged him before she sprained her ankle. She prayed he didn’t notice. At least he only touched her with one hand on the back of her upper thigh—the other hand held her sundae—though that one hand did seem to be spread wide for maximum skin contact.
    He carried her into his apartment and set her down at the kitchen island next to a bright red cushioned stool that matched the stools in his shop.
    She yanked her skirt down, hoping he wouldn’t notice what felt like a full-body blush. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
    “My pleasure.”
    Her gaze jerked to his, and he gave her a slow smile. Had he put special emphasis on pleasure? The way he said it ran through her like warm chocolate. Flustered, she took a seat and focused on her sundae.
    He walked to the other side of the island and poured them both a glass of ice water. She drank greedily, desperate to cool off.
    “So tell me what brought on the fudge brownie sundae,” he said in that sweet, thoughtful tone that always made her want to talk his ear off. She’d spent many hours telling him about all of her horrible dates and getting the guy perspective on them. She took a deep breath. She had to tell someone about the demise of her career, the crushing of her dream, and her imminent failure as a businesswoman.
    She set her spoon down. “The bank turned down my loan for the café. I mean, I know my financials don’t look great, but they’d seemed so understanding about the struggles of an independent bookstore.” She exhaled sharply and studied the large wooden spoon mounted over the sink. “I really thought the café would save Book It.”
    “Are you going to have to close your store?”
    “I hope not. We’re a little in the red, but not too bad. I’ll either have to let Janelle go, or let my apartment go and live rent-free with my parents. Thirty-one and moving back home.” She dropped her head in her hands, all appetite gone.
    “Tell me more about your plan for the café.”
    She looked up. “What does it matter now? It’s not happening.”
    His jaw tightened. “Just tell me.”
    She rubbed her forehead. “I was going to open up the wall between the café and bookstore to make it all one. Then I’d have your awesome coffee and fresh-baked stuff. That way, when you’re browsing for books, you’ve got all these delicious aromas wafting over, then you have a snack, go back to browsing and, hopefully, buying books. I wanted it to be a place to hang out. Someplace where people not just from here but from nearby towns would stop by too.” She played with the end of her braid. “I can’t let Janelle go. She’s been with me from the beginning.”
    Shane nodded, all concern and sympathy.
    Rachel leaned forward and rested her forehead on the island. “Mommy, get my old room ready.”
    Her life officially sucked. If she were in a Jane Austen novel, this would be the perfect time for an anonymous benefactor to show up.
    “The bank suggested I find investors,” she told the counter.
    A warm hand rubbed her back. She straightened. She swore the man was half cat, she hadn’t even heard him move.
    The back rub felt amazing. Back rubs between friends are fine. The back is neutral territory .
    She closed her eyes as warmth stole through her. “Who’d want to invest in the café knowing how Book It is failing?”
    “Me.”
    She turned. “You?”
    “Yes.”
    She shook her head. “You’re just feeling sorry for me. Besides, you don’t have that kind of money.”
    His hand