The Husband Recipe

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Every doubt she’d had about Cole Donovan went out the window while his lips were locked to hers. He wasn’t entirely a jock. He was really more of an ex-jock. She could get used to the kids, and at least one of them liked her. She could even get used to craning her head back to get a good look—or a proper lip-lock. High heels and a stepladder would take care of that problem. It was ridiculous to have a list of requirements for a man. She mentally shredded the list and tossed the strips into the air.

  She felt cocooned, sheltered, connected to the pit of her soul…and damn, it felt good.

  Cole ended the kiss, which was a good thing since Lauren was incapable of denying herself more. He left her breathless and turned on, and if he asked her if he could come inside her house she’d drag him there. She had to bite back an offer of coffee, when she had no intention of drinking coffee this late and she didn’t have any decaf in the house.

  But he didn’t ask, and neither did she. He said good-night and, with his big hands on her shoulders, turned her toward her own front door. She went, knowing it was for the best. She hoped he didn’t notice her stumble halfway down the driveway as she reached into the pocket of her capris for her house key. At the front door, key in hand, she turned around. He hadn’t moved; he watched her very closely.

  “Good night,” she whispered, knowing she was much too far away for him to hear. When she was inside the house she locked the door and then went to the window beside it to look out. Cole still hadn’t moved. He just stood there, watching her house. Watching her watch him. Just as she was about to go to the door and invite him inside—should she even bother with the pretense of offering coffee?—he turned and continued on to his house.

  So much for keeping her distance. So much for being happily single. So much for her very carefully laid-out life plan. Lauren had never in her life wanted anything as much as she wanted Cole Donovan.

  Chapter Seven

  Cole woke to the smell of coffee, but today Meredith wasn’t standing by his bedside, trying to stave off a bad mood with caffeine delivery before his feet hit the floor. Not that caffeine was going to save her.

  He’d been tempted to wake his daughter last night, after he’d dismissed the babysitter. But he’d been so angry, and he really didn’t want to confront Meredith while he was mad. He needed time to think, to play the conversation he needed to have with her in his head again and again.

  This morning he was still annoyed, but more than annoyed he was worried. Why would Meredith spin tales to keep him and Lauren apart? What had she seen that made her think it was necessary to interfere? He was pretty sure this was a new development. During his brief stint of bad dates, Meredith hadn’t said a word. The kids had met several of the women he’d dated, since something had almost always gone wrong and he’d ended up making those disastrous emergency trips home. His dates always offered to accompany him, because they thought they could help, or they wanted to meet the kids, or maybe because they thought he’d ask them to stay the night. Hell, maybe they were just curious about what they’d be getting into if there was a second and third and fourth date.

  Looking back, he had to wonder if the “accidents” that had occurred once he’d arrived home had been accidental at all. Could Justin upchuck on command? Unlikely, but maybe not impossible. Had all the spills, stumbles and unfortunate incidents with snot and vomit and grape jelly been…planned?

  If that was the case, he’d been blind. It had never occurred to him that what had happened had been anything more than bad luck. A sign from the universe that he didn’t need to be trying to add a woman to his already hectic schedule. Had he been wrong to devote everything of himself to the kids? Maybe he’d given them a skewed vision of how things were supposed to be. Maybe it was all his fault that Meredith felt the need to lie to put an end to a relationship that hadn’t even started before last night.

  That kiss had definitely been the start of something.

  Whatever happened next, he needed to take things slow. His impulsive days were behind him. He was older…maybe even wiser….

  Cole rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen, where he found Meredith laying out the bowls and measuring cups she used when she made pancakes. Her pancakes were worse than the burned eggs—gummy on the inside, black on the outside—but the only way she’d learn was by trial and error. She was in very big trouble, but he wasn’t going to tell her that she was a lousy cook. Meredith was twelve. She was supposed to be a lousy cook. It was kind of amazing that she could cook at all.

  Cole headed straight for the coffeepot. His favorite mug was sitting beside it, so he didn’t even have to reach into the cupboard to get his caffeine fix going. “Where are the boys?”

  “Still sleeping,” Meredith said, her back to him. “Kayla, the babysitter we didn’t need since I’m perfectly capable of taking care of the house and the boys for a few hours, let them stay up too late playing video games.”

  He took a long swig of coffee and answered with a hum from deep in his throat.

  “How was dinner?” she asked.

  “Dinner was great.”

  “So, Mrs. Schuler is a good cook? What did she make? We had macaroni and cheese, and I made those frozen biscuits…”

  “Lauren was there.”

  It wasn’t his imagination that Meredith paled, but by golly she didn’t miss a beat. “Really? Did she have one of her boyfriends with her?”

  “No.” Cole shook his head, cradled his coffee cup, looked into the dark liquid for a moment before lifting his head to stare at his daughter. “The mysterious boyfriends were elsewhere. They were probably out with Tiffany.”

  That stopped her, for a moment. Meredith’s chin came up, her eyes flashed. Thank goodness she didn’t try to deny what she’d done. “I was just trying to help. We don’t need her, Dad. She’s just going to get in the way. Hank already likes her, so how bad is he going to feel when she decides she doesn’t want anything to do with someone else’s brats?” The words came fast and furious, crisp and frantic.

  “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, Mer. We haven’t even gone on a date yet.”

  “Yet? Yet! You mean you are going to date her?”

  Cole kept his cool. “Maybe. I haven’t asked, so I’m not sure she’d even say yes.”

  Meredith’s chin trembled. “She’ll say yes. And then she’ll ruin everything.”

  Cole set his mug on the counter and crossed the room to take his daughter into his arms. He hugged her, and she let loose one sad sob. “We don’t need her, Dad. I can learn to make lasagna. And peach cobbler and anything else you want.”

  He’d thought he’d been doing the right thing, devoting himself to his family, shutting out everyone else, putting his life on hold to be a full-time dad. But it wasn’t natural for him to not have a life of his own, and he’d never before considered what that might’ve been doing to the kids all along. He wanted them all to have good, full lives. He wanted them to grow into well-rounded adults. And for the past five years, he hadn’t been setting a very good example.

  “First of all, no one is ever going to come between the four of us. We’re family, and family comes first.” Cole wanted Lauren, he liked her, but he didn’t think for a minute that what he felt was anything more than physical attraction. She was pretty, sweet and unattached—hell, she was right next door so he was sure to see her damn near every day, and he’d been without a woman for…well, too damn long. He wanted her, but he didn’t need her. He couldn’t allow himself to need her. The way Meredith was talking, you’d think he was going to invite Lauren to move in. “Second, we’re just talking about a date or two. Maybe. We might go out to dinner and find out we don’t have a thing in common.” If past history was any indication…

  But he didn’t think that would be the case with Lauren. Last night they’d ended up talking as if they’d known one another for years. There had even been a moment or two during dinner when he’d almost forgotten that Tim and Summer were at the table. He felt
a natural comfort with Lauren, an ease he’d enjoyed.

  “Really?” There was so much hope in Meredith’s voice, Cole’s heart broke a little. She’d lost so much in her life, and she was obviously frightened that she was now going to lose him.

  “I tell you what. I’ll wait a while before I ask Lauren out.” He’d already decided he needed to take things slowly with Lauren, anyway. Odds were they’d never work out, so why give Meredith a reason to obsess about something that would probably never happen?

  “Will you really wait?” Meredith whispered.

  “A little while, if it’ll make you feel better.” So much for his recent decision to move forward, to take a chance that he could have a personal life. Cole couldn’t bring himself to purposely hurt his kids to get something he wanted.

  He wondered if Lauren would still be available if he waited. Probably not. He’d been thinking slow, but how slow? Maybe Lauren didn’t have two or more men on a leash, maybe she wasn’t juggling boyfriends who hopped in and out of her bed. But that didn’t mean she was going to wait forever. Hell, she might not even wait a couple of months until Meredith got used to the idea of her father dating again.

  But he’d made more than one sacrifice for his kids, and one more wasn’t going to matter. At least, that’s what he told himself as he stood there. Inside, he was a little bit afraid it mattered very much.

  Two Tuesdays a month, The Gardens hosted a dance in the community center. The music was from the thirties and forties, standards that had survived all these years. The dance started at four in the afternoon and ran until a little after six. The men were seriously outnumbered by the women, and everyone wore their best, from Sunday frocks to sparkling cocktail dresses. Lauren couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen so many women in honest-to-goodness pantyhose.

  Now and then Lauren accompanied her grandmother—sometimes with Miss Patsy, sometimes without—to the dance. Not that Gran ever danced, but she did enjoy the social aspect of the gathering. There was always punch and finger foods, and folding chairs lined the walls so anyone who wanted to could sit.

  Tonight Miss Patsy and her husband were staying in, because their son and daughter-in-law were in town and Miss Patsy was preparing a selection of mystery casseroles. Lauren and Gran sat side-by-side, punch cups in their hands. They talked and watched the couples dance. One couple in particular was quite good, as if they’d taken lessons and were showing off. Another couple, the one Lauren kept her eyes on, were not quite so good, but they looked at one another with such love she couldn’t turn away.

  A boulder settled in her gut. A matching knot formed in her throat. A feeling akin to terror washed over her. No one would ever love her that way. Maybe she simply wasn’t lovable. After Cole had kissed her she’d been certain she’d hear from him the next day, or that she’d find him on her doorstep one morning very soon. Something. Anything! Instead he was ignoring her all over again. Not even a phone call.

  She’d enjoyed the kiss, it had made her head spin, but maybe it hadn’t been as spectacular from where he’d been standing.

  “What’s on your mind?” Gran asked. She leaned forward and waved her hand in front of Lauren’s face.

  “What?”

  Gran leaned back. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

  “Sorry,” Lauren said. “My mind is wandering.”

  “Whiplash?”

  Lauren sighed. “His name is Cole, and…” She started to say no, but she couldn’t make herself lie to her grandmother. “Maybe. How did you know?”

  “I know you too well, and the expression on your face screams man trouble.”

  Was she so easy to read? How embarrassing.

  The DJ put on a new song. “Someone To Watch Over Me.” It was an unfortunate choice. The song only made Lauren feel more inadequate. She had no one to watch over her. At this rate she probably never would. Great, time for a pity party.

  “Okay, he kissed me, just a little,” Lauren said, her voice low and quick, “and I thought he’d call but he didn’t and now I’m wondering what I did wrong. Did I do something wrong?” She didn’t give her grandmother a chance to answer. “It’s not like I go around kissing just any man, but it seemed right at the time and it was so nice. At least, I thought it was nice. Maybe he was horrified or embarrassed or…something.” Maybe he thought she was too easy, or not easy enough. Maybe he thought she was too short.

  “Did you call him?” Gran asked, her voice slow and calm as always.

  “No! Of course not. The man should always be the one to call.”

  Gran tsked. “I swear, Lauren, sometimes I think you’re more old-fashioned than I am. In this day and age, do you really think a woman should sit around and wait for a man to call if she’s interested?”

  Well, yeah. “If he’s interested, he’ll call, right? Isn’t that the way it works? What if I do the calling and he…he…”

  “Rejects you?”

  “Yes.” That was it. Lauren didn’t like rejection. No one did. Why on earth would she just throw herself out there and all but beg for it?

  “At least then you’d stop worrying about it. You do have a tendency to obsess, you know, to worry yourself into a stew when worrying doesn’t do you a bit of good. It’s a quality you’ve had since you were three. What do you have to lose? You’re not three anymore. Take the bull by the horns!” Gran suggested forcefully. “More rightly, take the man by the…well, whatever you wish to take him by.”

  “Gran!” Lauren couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve been watching too much daytime television.”

  “See those two?” Gran pointed at the couple Lauren had been watching earlier, the two who looked to be ninety plus and hopelessly in love. “There are a lot more women in this place than there are men, and single men? You can count them on one hand. When John moved in, Pearl set her sights on him from the get-go. She took him an apple pie. She offered to mend the hem of his trousers when she noticed that some stitches had come loose. The next thing you know, they’re staying at her place more than his. They’re getting married next month.”

  “I just assumed they’d been married fifty years or more,” Lauren said.

  “No, that’s new love.”

  Great. Ninety-year-old women had better luck in the romance department than she did. “Are you trying to tell me that it’s never too late? That maybe when I’m eighty I’ll find a man who loves me?” The pity party continued….

  “No. I’m advising you to take Whiplash an apple pie and mend his trousers and see what happens. In this day and age there’s no reason to sit around waiting for a man to make the first move.”

  Lauren didn’t tell her grandmother that Cole’s daughter had tried to interfere before there had been anything to interfere with. She didn’t admit that she was terrified that this man she was attracted to had three kids—and two of them didn’t like her. She didn’t confess that when she looked realistically at the situation she saw more obstacles than potential…but that she wanted desperately to try anyway.

  Audrey Walker, social director for The Gardens, joined them, taking the vacant seat by Lauren. She wouldn’t stay long. Audrey was like a hummingbird, never still, always busy, always planning something. Audrey and Lauren had attended the same high school. They hadn’t been close friends then—they’d run in different circles—but that connection gave them a bond. It was the “I knew you when” bond. Back in high school Audrey had been a cheerleader and an honest-to-goodness beauty queen. She probably had a collection of tiaras and sashes on display in her apartment—or else tucked in a special box stored in a closet.

  Everyone had thought Audrey would jet out of town after graduation and become a model or a movie star. Instead she’d married her high school sweetheart and stayed right here in Huntsville. The marriage hadn’t lasted very long—no one seemed to know exactly why it had ended so abruptly—but even after it was over Audrey had stayed. She’d been working at The Gardens for the past three years.

  A
udrey seemed to love her job here. She liked the people, and they liked her.

  After they’d exchanged pleasantries, Audrey said, “I’m thinking of putting together a big Labor Day picnic, complete with a big band and an outdoor dance floor.

  “You should bring your friend.”

  Lauren felt her spine stiffen. “What friend?”

  “The baseball player. Well, coach, I guess that’s what he is these days. Bring him! We always need a few extra able-bodied dancers.”

  Audrey was called away, and she left in a shot. Yeah, hummingbird fit her perfectly. Lauren turned to her grandmother. Before she could say a word, Gran said, “Patsy must’ve said something. I would certainly never gossip about my own granddaughter. Or anyone else.”