Read The Husband Recipe Online

Authors: Linda Winstead Jones

The Husband Recipe (10 page)

“But what?” Lauren whispered.

“I’m very, very glad to find out that you’re not juggling two rich, handsome, gullible boyfriends. I shouldn’t care, but I do.”

Cole was looking at her mouth; Lauren held her breath, waiting, anticipating. Was he going to kiss her, or was he going to turn around and walk away? He said he didn’t have time to take anything for himself, but this, this could be just for him. No, for
them.
Checklists be damned, she’d be a fool to walk away from whatever this was that she felt.

This man had come out of the blue and blindsided her, and she wasn’t sure what she thought about that. But she did know she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted it more than she’d ever wanted anything.

He hesitated. This was the point where he’d either turn away or keep moving toward her.
Don’t stop,
she thought.
Don’t come this close and turn away
. She wondered if she could find the strength to reach out and stop him if he decided to turn and head for home.

She didn’t have to find out. Cole took her face in his hands and held her steady. He looked into her eyes, and she was very grateful that there was more than enough light to see him by. Cole Donovan was the kind of man women dreamed of. Handsome, oozing testosterone…tall. She could learn to live with tall, if she had to. If she got involved with Cole, really, truly involved, he’d ruin her for anyone else. Lauren recognized that in the split second before his lips met hers. And she didn’t care. She wanted, very badly, to be ruined.

His lips were soft, but not too soft. Warm, firm, decisive, and yet there was a touch of hesitance in the way he kissed her.

The hesitance didn’t last long. His hands moved to the back of her head, and he deepened the kiss. He didn’t touch her anywhere else, he didn’t grope or press his body to her, but it was the sexiest, most arousing kiss Lauren had ever experienced. She felt their connection to her toes. It was in the top of her head, her gut, between her legs. She responded with her own hint of hesitation, but like his it didn’t last. This was a kiss to get lost in. She placed her hands at his waist because she needed to hold on to something solid to ground her, to keep her from flying off the ground.

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

 

C
ole 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.”

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