Lunch was done. Cole had kissed her silly, and eaten lunch at her kitchen table without taking his eyes off her, and then he’d kissed her some more. They’d never gotten around to her list. The list could wait. She’d sat on his lap at the kitchen table for a while. There had been no rush, no frantic need, just…touching. Learning one another. Kissing and teasing and more kissing. The way he touched her was enough to make her forget every list she’d ever written. And the ones she hadn’t written yet, well, they were supremely unimportant.
Hank had come over to fetch his dad too soon. They’d heard little feet approaching and had moved apart just as the back door swung open. There was another emergency at the Donovan household. Cole had left, once he was assured blood and fire were not involved. She wondered if he’d be back later, when the kids were asleep. Baby monitor and all.
Difficulties aside, was this it? Was he the one? She hadn’t been looking for a man, hadn’t even wanted a relationship at this time of her life. And yet, here he was. Could she love Cole or was this all just testosterone and estrogen meeting in a perfect storm of hormones?
The jarring ring of the phone yanked Lauren out of her daydream. She checked the caller ID; it was her editor. Hilary never called just to chat. Was something wrong?
“Hello?”
“Oh, my God, you won’t believe it.” Hilary Casale was a veteran at the publishing house. She’d always been cool as a cucumber, distant, even. Lauren had never heard so much as a hint of excitement in her voice. Until now.
“Won’t believe what?” Lauren asked. Something was wrong, she just knew it. Her contentment flew out the window. She should’ve known it wouldn’t last.
“I got the call this morning, but there were details to be settled before I called you with the news… This is going to change everything…. You are the luckiest new author I have ever…” Hilary was breathless and damn near incoherent.
But she’d said lucky, and that had to be good. Right? “Please tell me what’s going on.”
Hilary took a deep, stilling breath Lauren could hear through the phone lines, then she began again. “I got a phone call from a producer who heard about your book from an associate of mine. Edward Mandel is putting together a reality show where up-and-coming cooks compete for their own show on one of the food networks. I don’t remember which one, but that doesn’t matter. He checked out your website and he liked what he saw. He wants you.”
“He wants me for what?”
Hilary laughed. “He wants you to be one of the contestants. Shooting starts in six weeks. You’ll be marketed as the Southern homemaker, the one who uses lots of butter and talks with a deep accent, you can do that, right? I mean, you have kind of an accent but it’s not particularly deep. Think Designing Women accent. Can you pull that off?”
Lauren’s mind was oddly blank. She was having trouble processing this offer that had come out of nowhere. “I suppose, but…”
“There is no but, Lauren. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. Whatever Mandel wants, you deliver. The show will put your book on the Times list. Win or lose, your career will be made.” Hilary’s voice became increasingly faster and louder. “Why aren’t you screaming? Why aren’t you laughing and jumping up and down? Well, I can’t know that you’re not jumping up and down, but you don’t even sound excited!”
The offer—interesting as it sounded—had stunned her. It instantly turned Lauren’s neat plans for the coming months upside down. Sex, rules, lists, more sex, maybe a real date… “Where will this show be filmed?”
“Here in New York! We’ll do dinner when you come in. Once the show starts I think you’ll be pretty tied up, so…”
“I need to think about this.”
Hilary’s response was a long moment of dead silence. Finally she said, “What is there to think about?”
Cole. “My grandmother. I can’t leave….”
“Hire someone. You’ll be making enough from the show, and it’ll only last a few weeks. Six, I think. Maybe ten. Well, unless you win and they want to start your new show right away, but face it, that’s a long shot. The reality show itself is the payoff. Edward wants to meet with you, as soon as possible. Oh, and a word of warning—don’t call him Eddie. Apparently it’s a thing with him. This weekend? Would that work for you?”
Lauren felt as if her stomach was tied up in knots. Why couldn’t she have enjoyed her contentment a little while longer? “I need to think about this. I’ll call you back.”
Though it was horribly rude, and not at all like her, Lauren hung up before Hilary could offer more arguments about how this was the chance of a lifetime.
One chance of a lifetime was a lot to take in. Two in less than twenty-four hours made her head spin.
The emergency that had called him away from Lauren hadn’t been an emergency at all, but a laundry issue. Meredith’s way of bringing him home. Maybe it was just as well, because he’d been minutes from making love to Lauren on her kitchen table. And he needed to make another trip to the drugstore before that happened.
They still had that list to put together. He’d never been good at lists. Or rules. Or plans. Why make them when something always got in the way? But if a list of rules was what Lauren wanted, he’d try. Cole was pouring another cup of coffee when the phone rang. He groaned when he saw Janet’s number on the caller ID. He was tempted to let it ring, but if he did she’d just call his cell, and then she’d start texting, and before noon she’d send out the National Guard looking for him. Better to just get it over with.
“Good afternoon, Janet,” he answered, knowing it would be her and not her workaholic husband on the line.
“Good afternoon.” Her voice was cool, as it had been since he’d told her they were moving to Huntsville, months ago. “How are the kids?”
“They’re fine. Do you want to talk to them? They’re in their rooms.” Still grounded, not that he intended to tell Janet that much. “Give me a minute and I’ll…”
“That’s not necessary. Listen, Cole, I’d like to come visit this weekend. Do you mind?” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Saturday would be best. I can call you when I’m on the way.”
So much for “asking” if he minded. “We’ll be here.”
Janet asked about the kids and how they were adjusting to their new home, talked for a moment about her own two girls, who were in college now, and then the conversation was over. When the phone was back on the charger Cole glanced around the living room. He wasn’t an idiot. Janet was coming by to see if her niece and nephews were being properly taken care of, if they could get along without her right around the corner. He had to prove to her that all was well.
Even if it wasn’t.
He called all the kids into the living room for a powwow. When they were lined up on the sofa, he said, “Aunt Janet is coming on Saturday.” They remained stoic. They loved their aunt, but they knew very well how she was. Demanding, critical…overprotective to the point of smothering. And it was a regular part of any visit that she inspect their rooms. “We’re going to show her that everything here is hunky-dory.”
“What’s that?” Justin asked.
“Great. Wonderful. Perfect.”
“That means I have to clean my room, doesn’t it?” Hank asked solemnly.
“Yes, it does.” He looked at Meredith. “And we’re going to feed our guest. Start planning a menu. Something simple and easy, but no frozen chicken nuggets. I can talk to Lauren. Maybe she’ll have some ideas…”
“No!” Meredith snapped. “I can handle preparing a meal for Aunt Janet without any help from the woman next door.” She shook her hair in an undeniably defiant gesture.
“Fine. I’ll leave it to you. The house will be clean, you three will be clean and dressed in clothes that match—” he caught Hank’s eye for that one “—and we will convince Aunt Janet that we don’t need any help.” He’d never get Janet out of their hair, and besides, that wasn’t what he wanted. The kids deserved to have somethi
ng of their mother’s family in their lives on a regular basis, and Janet deserved to have this connection with her sister. What he did want was for her to quit implying—and sometimes outright saying—that he was an incompetent parent, that he couldn’t handle his family alone.
Knockout night with Lauren aside, best lunch ever in his rear mirror, he was alone. He couldn’t let what he wanted become more important than what his kids needed. Not ever. And at the end of the day, he couldn’t allow himself to need anyone. Not Janet. Not even Lauren.
Hilary was merciless. She called until Lauren finally agreed to meet with the producer who’d chosen her for his show. She still hadn’t decided if she wanted to participate or not—no matter what a fabulous opportunity Hilary thought it would be. Judging by what little she’d seen of reality shows, they’d probably make her construct a meal in thirty minutes using only Spam, orange Jell-O and dried beans. They’d probably make her race for spices, or ask her to turn a box of dried mac and cheese into a meal fit for a king. That was so not her.
The producer, Edward “don’t call him Eddie” Mandel, was flying in on Saturday. Lauren had been surprised that he hadn’t asked her to come to him, but Hilary said they’d be shooting footage of all the contestants at home, so he wanted to check out her surroundings.
She spent all afternoon planning what she’d feed Mandel. Planning a meal—what to serve, which plates and glasses to use, what kind of dessert she should prepare—calmed her. She needed to be calm for her brain to work. Did she want this? She did not expect she’d enjoy the show, if she decided to move forward with it, and she didn’t want to win. As much as she wanted a career, television was not in her plans; she wasn’t what one would call a TV-personality type. She was too quiet, too reserved. She’d make a terrible game-show contestant, because if she won a million dollars she’d probably just smile, clap her hands gently a couple of times and mouth a single, quiet “Yay.”
But if the reality show would really increase the sales of her book the way Hilary said it would, shouldn’t she at least give it a try? It wasn’t like she’d be moving to New York permanently.
Would Cole be waiting for her when she got home or would he have moved on to another woman by that time?
A warning bell went off in her head. She barely knew the man. Yes, she was attracted to him; yes, she liked him; yes, he was great in bed. But should she be planning her life around a man just because he made her feel good? Just because when he kissed her she forgot everything else? How often had she let herself depend on a man in the past? Three. How many times had she been disappointed?
Three.
Why should she consider even for a moment that Cole would be any different?
Last night she’d been so sure that they were at the beginning of something grand—lunch had been beyond wonderful—but she couldn’t entirely dismiss this morning’s debacle. Great sex and soul-searing kisses did not a relationship make. She was wild about Cole, in a way she’d never expected to be. He’d come out of nowhere and turned her neat plans upside down. He was a wonderful father—his kids were occasionally wild, but he loved them so much she had to give him points for that—a good neighbor, a great lover.
But could she really trust him?
Cole stared at the phone longer than he should’ve. He was never indecisive. He made mistakes, everyone did, but he made his mistakes rushing forward like a bull in a china shop. The kids were outside, the washer and the dryer were both running, breakfast dishes were in the dishwasher. Finally he lifted the receiver and dialed the number he’d memorized. It rang four times, then he got a recording.
Like he was going to leave Lauren a message when he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d say if he got her on the other end of the line. Thank you? What are you doing tonight? Are you as confused as I am?
No, even if he was confused, he’d never admit it.
He could ask her to help get the house and the kids ready for Saturday’s visit, but they weren’t at that place in their relationship, and hell, might never be. Could you call a couple of conversations, one night of great sex and one out-of-control make-out session a relationship? He did, but what about Lauren? Besides, Meredith would have a fit if he indicated in any way that she was incapable of handling the duties of the woman of the house on her own.
He wasn’t about to leave a stuttering message on Lauren’s answering machine. He’d try her later.
The screams from the backyard went silent; that got Cole’s attention. As much as he sometimes longed for it, silence in this household was rarely a sign of anything good. He could only hope there was no blood, and no broken windows. He walked away from the phone, toward the kitchen door and the backyard.
Before he opened the door he saw the reason for the silence. He watched the foursome through the window set in the door, smiling as Hank and Justin leaned over a plate Lauren held in both hands, the offering held out and down for their inspection. Meredith hung back, but even she eyed whatever was on the plate their neighbor proffered.
Cole was content to just watch Lauren for a few minutes. She’d changed clothes again. Now she wore denim shorts that showed off great legs; a white tank that hugged her curves, such as they were; white sandals. Brave of her to wear white after what had happened this morning. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and his gut tightened as he imagined loosening her hair and letting it down again. Her smile was infectious. Hank and Justin were grinning ear to ear as they each choose a huge cookie from the plate. Even Meredith relaxed a bit as she chose one for herself.
Lauren glanced toward the house, saw him standing there, watching, and the smile changed.
Cole opened the door and walked outside. The kids were devouring their cookies, which were the size of softballs and bursting with chocolate chips. “So, you’re going to feed my kids sugar and then go home?” he said, smiling at Lauren.
“No, I thought I’d stick around and study the results.” She held the plate toward him. “You, too. A new recipe. I thought I’d experiment on y’all before I use it in a column.”
“She can experiment on me any day, Dad,” Hank said enthusiastically. “These cookies are awesome.”
Barely glancing down, Cole grabbed a cookie for himself. The offerings were arranged on a heavy green platter with pink flowers painted around the edge. “Good lord, woman, don’t you own a paper plate?”
“I don’t like paper plates,” she responded.
“Why not?”
“They’re not pretty.”
“I wouldn’t have survived the past few years without paper plates.” If he could only find a way to get the kids in disposable clothes, he’d have it made….
The cookie was awesome, just as Hank said it was. He wasn’t surprised. Lauren didn’t do anything in half measures.
Justin, now as charmed by Miss Lauren as his brother had been from first sight, reached up and snagged Lauren’s wrist. She looked down at him. “Do you want another cookie?”
“Later. Jump on the trampoline with me!”
Lauren shook her head. “Thank you, but I’ll have to decline.”
“Huh?”
Her smile widened. “No, thank you.”
“But…it’s fun.” Justin’s argument was simple and heartfelt.
“I’ve never been on a trampoline before. I’m afraid I’d fall off and hurt myself.”
“You’ve never been on a trampoline, not in your whole life?” Hank was clearly horrified.
Again, Lauren shook her head.
“That’s sad,” Justin said sincerely.
“If she doesn’t want to get on the trampoline, leave her alone,” Meredith said, her voice cool. She wasn’t looking out for Lauren’s well-being, Cole knew. She wanted their neighbor to go home ASAP.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Cole said casually. He took a bite of the cookie. It melted in his mouth. “It doesn’t seem right that Miss Lauren has never been on a trampoline.” They worked in concert, Cole taking the plate of cookies, Justin taking h
er hand, Hank leading the way. Only Meredith hung back, uncertain. Unhappy. Looking every bit the sullen almost-teenager. He still wasn’t sure what to do about that, but walking away from something promising didn’t seem to be the way for any of them.
Lauren argued halfheartedly as Justin all but dragged her to the trampoline. “I wouldn’t even know what to do.”
“You just jump,” Hank said. “It’s easy!”
Justin added, “Dad tells us that when he says jump we’re supposed to ask how high, but he never actually tells us to jump so I don’t know why he says that.”
Lauren glanced over her shoulder, caught his eye and laughed.
She was a good sport; he shouldn’t have expected anything else. She kicked off her shoes and got onto the trampoline, taking careful steps as she worked her way to the center. The boys yelled, “Jump! Jump!”
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