The Husband Recipe

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Lauren took a very small jump, looked at Cole, and asked, “How high?”

  And then she put everything she had into a motion that threw her high into the air. She laughed, and screamed…and yes, she jiggled nicely, here and there.

  The boys laughed. Even Meredith smiled, as she walked closer to snag another cookie from the platter. To be honest, Cole had never expected to watch Lauren let loose this way. Then again, he hadn’t really expected last night, either. And when he’d gone to her house for lunch he certainly hadn’t expected her to all but devour him in her perfect kitchen.

  He couldn’t help but wonder, as he watched her, what next? Just when he was certain his life held no more surprises, here it came. Here she came.

  Surprise.

  Chapter Ten

  Where Lauren was concerned, things were happening too fast. His plan to take things slowly hadn’t lasted long at all. Cole understood that he couldn’t afford to jump into a relationship with both feet. There was too much at stake, too many ways things could go wrong. She had to understand that, too, but neither of them seemed interested in taking it slowly.

  Summer Schuler invited the kids to go to the movies with her and her bunch, then out for pizza afterward. They’d all met at the barbecue—before the disaster and the trip to the E.R.—and the kids had played together a time or two since then, since summer days were long and there was a trampoline in the Donovan backyard. The boys jumped on the offer, tempted by the movie and totally sold by the pizza, but Meredith hesitated. In the end it was the movie that pulled her in.

  Considering the way the day had begun, with Lauren getting a face full of mud and a spritz with the hose, he should’ve made them stay home, properly grounded. But a little time at Lauren’s without a baby monitor might not be a bad thing. As they were getting ready to leave, Justin’s face fell. His eyes got big and sad, his lower lip quivered. “Dad will be here all alone.”

  Cole had to work not to smile. To Justin, being left at home alone would be traumatic. For Cole—for any child-rearing adult who found him or herself with a few precious hours of alone time—it was a rare gift.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said solemnly. “There’s a movie I want to watch on TV, then I’ll eat some supper and work on the plans for my history class.”

  “We won’t be too late,” Justin said, forcing a bright smile.

  “I can stay…” Meredith began, but Cole stopped her.

  “I’m sure Mrs. Schuler will appreciate your help with the little kids.”

  Meredith agreed with a nod of her head. Her favorite actor was in the movie, and she was anxious to see him on the big screen.

  Cole had to wonder if Summer Schuler had invited his kids along in order to give him and Lauren some time alone. How much had Lauren told her friend? Anything? This could be simply another attempt at blatant matchmaking. Summer and Lauren might’ve planned this together. It could also be just what it seemed to be, an invitation to the movies for a couple of neighborhood children. There was no reason to read anything more into it.

  Last night he’d gone to Lauren’s house with a baby monitor and a few condoms. This afternoon he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her. They’d started something, something unexpected and powerful, but still, he was going to look like a complete ass if he knocked on her door expecting…well, anything. He couldn’t just run next door whenever he got an itch he wanted Lauren to scratch, whenever it was convenient.

  Could he?

  No, she deserved better than to be convenient. But it had been so long since he’d had a woman in his life, he wasn’t sure what came next. All he knew was that he could still remember how Lauren felt, how she tasted, how she moaned… He was getting hard just thinking about her.

  Summer collected the kids and they left in a rush, piling into the Schuler van and taking off, kids waving wildly. Cole, standing in the doorway, waved back. After they rounded the corner he turned his attention to the house next door, staring at the front porch and the inviting door there.

  He didn’t know what Lauren was to him, not yet. He had no idea what he might be to her. But the idea of just sitting here alone while she was right next door—also alone—made his brain itch. What did he have to lose by making a move?

  Nothing. Everything.

  Lauren had changed her upcoming Saturday menu plan five times. She wanted to impress the producer, even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to be on his reality show. She was a professional. Impressing people with good food and Southern hospitality was what she did best. It was her job.

  Should the meal be simple and hearty, or elegant? She didn’t know the man who was coming to her house, so she should be sensitive to food preferences. No seafood, pork or red meat. Chicken, then. That narrowed her choices considerably.

  She was flipping through her recipe cards, searching for a proper chicken recipe, when the doorbell rang. The mail had already run and she wasn’t expecting a package. That left limited possibilities. A child selling something she didn’t want or need, which was unlikely since school hadn’t started yet and it wasn’t Girl Scout cookie season; someone trying to convert her to their religion; a neighbor with a petition; or Cole. At the front door, this time?

  Lauren thought about straightening her hair as she walked slowly to the door, but then she restrained herself. There was no reason for her to make an effort to look her best for a man who had already seen her in spectacular disarray. Mad sex did nothing for her hairstyle or makeup. Nothing good, anyway.

  She peeked through the security viewer, saw the man she’d pretty much expected to be there, then sighed long and too loud. He really had come out of nowhere, and she didn’t have any idea what would happen next. To find out, she’d have to open the door. In spite of the fact that he’d muddied up her plans, she very much wanted to know what might come next.

  Cole Donovan stood there, smile on his face, an anonymous-looking and large brown bag in his grasp. “Do you like Chinese?”

  “Sure.” She looked behind him. “Where are the kids?”

  “Out for the evening with the Schuler family.”

  She still hadn’t invited him in, and she wasn’t sure that she should. Cole was a complication, and even though they were amazingly compatible—at least in one way—she didn’t want to be taken for granted. She didn’t want him to think of her as the easy and overly eager next-door neighbor. “There’s enough food in that bag for many more than two.”

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked. Besides, it’s not like leftovers go to waste in my house.”

  Lauren had a very bad feeling that she could fall in love with Cole Donovan with very little encouragement. She was already halfway there, and that was bad. Very bad. He wasn’t falling in love with her; it was too soon, and besides, he had his hands full with his children. She was just a distraction, nothing more. She’d been an idiot to think they could be neighbors with benefits. Heaven above, she could see it so clearly. He’d be perfectly happy with a relationship that was strictly physical. In spite of herself, in spite of the fact that she’d been the one to insist that all they had was sex, she wanted more. She wanted everything.

  But he was her neighbor, and no matter where this went they were going to have to find a way to get along.

  She still hadn’t finished her list regarding his children. She’d gotten as far as no mud and stay out of my garden before setting it aside.

  “Chinese, yes,” she said. “Sex, no.” She felt a hot flush rise on her cheeks. “Just in case that was what you had in mind. We really need to talk first.” She felt like she was cutting off her nose to spite her face, considering how much she wanted him, but there was so much unsaid, so much still to do…and she still hadn’t told him about the television deal. Would he be happy for her or annoyed that she was leaving? Would he even care?

  “Seduction by fried rice.” He smiled. Maybe there was a little disappointment in his expression, but he didn’t run away, taking his fried rice with him. “I’ll be happy
for the company.”

  Lauren stepped back and let him into her house. He knew the way to the kitchen, and walked ahead of her, unerringly headed in that direction. She couldn’t help but stare at his butt—just a little. It was a nice butt, tight and perfectly shaped in those snug jeans. And out of those jeans, as well. She remembered. How could she forget? Maybe she’d made a mistake. Maybe she should’ve sent him away. But where was the danger in a shared meal and a little conversation?

  There was none. No danger at all.

  He and Lauren had talked before, but not like this. Alone, kidless, no pressure, no timetable. There was sexual tension but it wasn’t like before, when he’d been about to burst with wanting her. This was more like a slow simmer. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to sleep with her again. He did. Maybe one day he would. But she’d made it very clear—not tonight.

  Strangely enough, he didn’t mind all that much, even though he’d stopped at the drugstore when he’d gone out for Chinese. If it was right, in time it would happen again. And again.

  They got to know one another a little better over shrimp and broccoli and honey chicken. And fried rice. The two of them barely made a dent in what he’d bought, but that was okay. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said leftovers didn’t have a chance in his house.

  He loved Lauren’s kitchen. It was always clean, always in perfect order. It always smelled good, like lingering cinnamon or vanilla. And she was usually in it.

  They’d covered the basics. Childhoods, schools, most embarrassing moments, favorite foods, movies, books. He’d been a little surprised to find out that she’d been a bit of a nerd in high school. She’d played clarinet in the band, had belonged to the Future Homemakers Club—that wasn’t a surprise at all—and she’d volunteered in the library. Naturally she’d been a straight-A student. If they’d gone to the same high school, would he even have noticed her? He’d been the star baseball player who did just enough to get by in class. He hadn’t done clubs at all.

  After a while he’d even talked about baseball, a little. He didn’t do much of that these days. What was there to say? Playing baseball was a part of his past; he wasn’t big on reliving the past, but he didn’t mind talking to Lauren about it. She was curious without being too interested.

  Leaning back in her chair, Lauren took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “So tell me, are you ever sorry?”

  “Sorry about what?” He shoved back his empty plate. There was no way he could eat another bite.

  The easy expression Lauren had worn all evening was gone, replaced by uncertainty and tension. And that was how he realized the true meaning of her question.

  “Do I regret giving up baseball to raise my kids?”

  She shook her head, making her thick ponytail dance. “I have no business asking that. It’s just, when you talked about playing baseball your face lit up. Leaving was a huge sacrifice, and you know very well that not everyone would’ve made the decision you did.”

  He hadn’t talked to anyone about this in a very long time, and he had never been completely honest. He’d never been open. Publicly, he made sure everyone knew he’d never suffered a moment’s regret. Privately, it was another story.

  “There were times when I was certain I’d made a terrible mistake. Usually when the flu was making a rampant run through the house and one kid had thrown up in the hall and the other one hadn’t made it out of the bed. Or when Justin would cry for no reason, screaming for hours, and I couldn’t comfort him. When Hank decided he could fly and jumped off the top bunk and broke his arm, and when Meredith needed her first bra.” He caught Lauren’s eye and held it. “I suspect you’re the kind of woman who never feels inadequate, but there have been times, many times, when I felt like a completely useless parent. Baseball is easier.”

  “Almost everyone feels inadequate at one time or another,” she said. And then she smiled. “And then there are those who should feel inadequate but never do.”

  “I’ve met a few of those.” The mood had lightened, which was fine with him. He didn’t want this conversation to turn maudlin.

  “You know, that’s one of the things I like about you,” she said casually.

  He got a weird flutter when she admitted that she liked him. But his voice was cool as he said, “What’s that?”

  She leaned toward him, smiling but serious. “Whatever you do, you throw yourself into it wholeheartedly. Baseball, raising your kids, now teaching and being a coach. You have a ‘damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead’ attitude about everything you do.”

  He wondered if somewhere in that pretty head she was thinking, Even me.

  Lauren looked at him with a decidedly serious gleam in her eye. “I think you’re the best father I’ve ever met, and your children are very lucky to have you. They’re not perfect, you’re not perfect, but they love you so much, and you love them. That’s what makes a family work. I envy you that. It’s what I want, one day. Babies, a house filled with love, hell, even the flu when it runs around.” She smiled. She could smile because she hadn’t had to endure the flu. It wasn’t quaint; it was war.

  Cole tried to picture Lauren as a part of his family, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t make it work. Sure, he didn’t know her as well as he should, all things considered, so he shouldn’t even let his mind wander in that direction. His home, his family, was in a constant state of chaos. Lauren was the exact opposite of chaos. She was order, precision. His kids would eat her alive, given half a chance.

  There was a part of him that really wanted to try her there, to put her in the middle of his family and see how she fit in. Sometimes a square peg could fit in a round hole. It just took a little effort.

  But her casual mention of babies had raised a red flag. He didn’t want more kids, not ever. No more babies, no more late nights and stomach flu and babies who cried for no reason.

  No more being left behind to handle it all on his own.

  Thankfully, she changed the subject. “I’ve had something interesting come up this week.”

  Cole bit back his immediate response about what he’d had come up lately. Instead he relaxed and asked, “What’s that?”

  She told him about a phone call from her editor, an opportunity…New York. A producer was coming to her house on Saturday to check her out, to see if she was worthy of his show. Like anyone in his right mind would find Lauren unworthy of anything.

  Why had she waited so long to tell him about the offer? Did she think he would be angry? Or was he not important enough to get the news right away?

  Even though he’d already decided that Lauren could never be a part of his family, that she didn’t fit in at all, that what they wanted was never going to be the same, his heart sank a little. If she went to New York it wouldn’t be for a few weeks, as she said it would be. No, she’d get caught up in television shows and book tours and she’d never come home. It pissed him off, more than a little, but he also realized that he didn’t have any right to hold her back. He’d had his shot at the big time and had chosen to walk away. Lauren should have her shot. He shouldn’t let what he wanted from her get in the way.

  Lauren jumped up and snatched both plates from the table, carrying them to the sink. Rising from the table slowly, Cole was right behind her. What did he have to lose? Nothing. Everything. Time was flying past and this moment would never come again. When he bent down and placed his mouth on her neck, which was exposed thanks to her ponytail, she jumped and dropped one of the plates. It landed with a clatter, but didn’t break.

  “I told you,” she said without turning to face him, “no sex.” Her hands gripped the edge of the sink.

  “This isn’t sex,” he whispered. His hands rested at her waist and he moved the kiss to the top of her spine. She shuddered as his lips lingered there. She tasted so good, sweet and salty. She always smelled of something good. Cookies. She smelled like cookies.

  Lauren’s body unwound and she sagged against him. “It’s just a kiss,” he whisp
ered, his breath brushing against her skin. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

  She didn’t tell him to stop.

  He loved the smell of her, the warmth of her skin, the brush of her soft hair. He loved the way he could feel her surrender, as her body relaxed and her breath changed. Yes, no matter how wrong she was for him, no matter how she didn’t fit, he could so easily imagine making this an everyday pleasure. Stealing a kiss at the sink. Seducing her.

  But he couldn’t give her everything she wanted, and she was going to be gone before he knew it. Gone to New York, or wherever her career took her. Gone, moving on to a man who could give her what she wanted. Babies. Chaos. Maybe he couldn’t keep her, but for now she was his. Tonight, maybe tomorrow—she was his for just a little while longer.

  She turned slowly, placed her arms around his neck and swayed into him. “Well, dammit, Cole, if you’re going to just kiss me, you might as well do it right.”