The Single Dad's Family Recipe

by Rachael Johns

  Probably a combination of both.

  Jewell Rock had felt like a safe haven when no one knew her dark secret—even her apartment had begun to feel like a home—but now as she looked around, she felt like a stranger in her own place again and was terrified she’d blown everything.

  It was one thing, Lachlan knowing about Tyler’s betrayal. Lots of people could relate to a cheating ex; Lachlan himself even had experience in that department. But it was quite something else when they knew you’d lost a child.

  She would never forget Jack—that would be impossible—but in New York, she’d almost come to wish that other people would. There, where everyone knew what had happened, her grief had become like a prison. It was the elephant in every conversation, the first thing people thought of when they thought of her. Her loss had consumed her, the sadness becoming who she was, suffocating.

  In Jewell Rock she’d started to breathe again. She’d started to notice the beauty in her surroundings when, for eighteen months, she hadn’t been able to see anything but sorrow. In Jewell Rock, she got to be someone else, even if only for a few hours a day, and allowing herself to be that other person was the only way she could cope.

  But the one person whom she spent the most time with now knew about Jack.

  She swallowed as her hand subconsciously went to her pocket, closing around the handkerchief Lachlan had given her when she’d become teary, and recalled the horror on his face when she’d told him. Horror that quickly turned to sympathy.

  She drew the small square of cotton from her pocket and stared down at it. Crisp and white when he’d given it to her, it was now streaked with black lines from her mascara. She shuddered to think about what her face looked like now. Would Lachlan ever find her attractive again after seeing her snot-cry like that?

  He’d been so kind, so gentle in his endeavors to comfort her, but it wasn’t comfort she wanted from his hands. She wanted the release, distraction and oblivion that came when his lips touched hers.

  Eliza drew the handkerchief up to her nose, hoping to smell him on it, but all she could smell was her own heartache and anger. Shame and mortification washed over her when she thought of how she’d treated him. Rejecting his offer to talk, pushing him away, running as fast as she could and leaving him to explain her sudden departure to his family. Hopefully they’d bought his excuse that she had a migraine, but she’d put him in a terrible position and the thought of facing him tomorrow made her nauseous.

  But she also couldn’t keep running from her problems forever.

  Besides, how could she run out on Lachlan so close to the opening of the restaurant?

  As scary as the prospect was, she needed to face him again and to apologize for today’s behavior. It was probably a pipe dream but she hoped they could at least try to go back to the easy way things were between them. She didn’t want to give up sleeping with him but even more important, she didn’t want to lose her new job. Work had given her purpose again, a reason to get out of bed every morning.

  With a deep sigh, she put Jack’s photo back on the bedside table and twisted the handkerchief between her fingers. She should wash it and give it back to him.

  She also recognized that if she wanted to recover from today, she needed to reach out. To apologize for her meltdown this afternoon and for rushing out like that. Her Grammy always said you shouldn’t let the sun go down on an argument and although this wasn’t an argument as such, she wouldn’t be able to attempt sleep if she didn’t at least try to make amends.

  With that thought, she reached for her purse, which she’d dumped on the bed, and retrieved her cell. Then, her fingers shaking a little, she typed out a quick message to Lachlan.

  I’m sorry I freaked out today. Thanks for covering for me. I’ll pop in to see your mother tomorrow and say thank you. xx

  Just before she pressed Send, she deleted the two kisses, horrified that she’d almost sent them to her boss. Granted, they’d become a little more than chef and hostess but kisses in messages were definitely not part of their arrangement. And she didn’t want to muddy the waters.

  Perhaps she should send Nora some flowers, she thought, as she waited for a reply. She felt as if she should do something to make up for her behavior today, but maybe flowers were a little over-the-top. They might make more of a big deal about this than she wanted it to be. And she’d already given Nora chocolates. Feeling at a loss, she glanced again at the framed photo of Jack.

  What do you think I should do, little man?

  And then the most ridiculous idea entered her head—so ridiculous she almost believed it had come from her little boy. Children believed anything was possible.

  I should make Nora cookies!

  She let out a little laugh of disbelief. Her, cook for someone with the expertise of Nora McKinnel? A few cooking lessons did not make her an expert and the idea that she could cook anything on her own was farcical. All the same, the idea refused to be silenced and Eliza found herself pushing off the bed and heading into the kitchen, wondering what would be the worst that could happen. She’d be very careful, but if she did set the kitchen on fire...well, Annabel would probably be home soon and had the skills to save them all.

  And if the cookies were a disaster, no one would ever have to know that she’d attempted them, but how many people did she know who found comfort in baking? Perhaps she could find some, too.

  Decision made, she flung open her food cupboard and immediately came across a problem. Like Mother Hubbard, her cupboard was bare, but this only deterred her for a few moments.

  You’re not going to give up that easily, are you?

  There was a supermarket down the road and, thanks to Nora, she had a new bike to take her there. The prospect of heading out now—when her head hurt and her whole body ached from sobbing—had her heart filling once again with despair, but a little voice told her she needed to be brave. She needed to step out of her comfort zone and try new things, or she would be the opposite of brave and flounder.

  * * *

  The next morning Eliza arrived at the restaurant before anyone else and, carrying her purse under one arm and a plastic container in the other, let herself inside with the key Lachlan had entrusted her with. Although they were still only training staff and preparing for their grand opening, she felt as if she’d been here a lot longer than a few weeks. She’d spent as much—if not more—time in this beautifully designed space than she had in her apartment and many of the happy memories she was starting to collect had taken place here.

  She only hoped they would continue.

  With that thought, she went around, pulling back blinds and turning on lights, rousing the coffee machine to life and trying to ignore the nerves that fluttered in her stomach at the knowledge Lachlan would be here any moment.

  In the middle of her baking efforts yesterday afternoon, he’d sent her a short response to her message: It’s all good. See you tomorrow.

  But until they were face-to-face and acting normal again, she wouldn’t be able to completely relax.

  Trying to distract herself, she peeled back the lid on the container of cookies and took a sniff before popping them in a safe spot behind the bar. Even though she’d had breakfast not long ago, her mouth watered at the sugary aroma that teased her nostrils. Triple chocolate chip cookies. If her kitchen hadn’t looked like a disaster zone after her efforts, she might not be able to believe that she’d actually succeeded in making them. Without any assistance.

  She’d followed the recipe she found on the internet to a T and had set up a chair in front of the oven and watched as the cookies had been baking, terrified she’d leave them too long and burn the lot.

  The sound of the front door opening jolted her thoughts and she looked up to see Lachlan coming in.

  “Coffee. I need it now.” He grunted as he stalked toward her and came around the bar to stand alongside her.
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  She blinked, unsure what to make of his brusque tone, and then registered how terrible he looked. Well, as terrible as it was possible for one of the best-looking guys she’d ever laid eyes on to look. His hair was way more disheveled than usual, dark circles hung beneath his eyes and there was a shadow along his jaw as if he hadn’t had the time or inclination to shave that morning. Usually she didn’t mind a little sexy stubble on a man but his whole demeanor erased such an effect.

  His ashen appearance couldn’t possibly be because of what had happened between them yesterday. Could it?

  “I’ll make you some,” she said and immediately set to work to do exactly that. He was much better at making coffee than she was but in the state he was in, she guessed he wouldn’t be fussy.

  “Thanks.” He lifted a hand to his mouth to try to cover over a yawn. Then he said, “Are you okay? After yesterday?”

  She pursed her lips and nodded, still not wanting to talk about Jack but comforted by the fact he didn’t seem to be angry at her.

  He smiled sadly, then leaned back against the bar. Almost immediately, he frowned and stepped forward. Eliza realized the container of cookies on the shelf beneath the bar hadn’t quite been pushed in far enough and he’d felt it.

  “What are these?” he asked as he peered beneath the counter and picked up the box.

  Her heart did a ridiculous flip as she watched him peel back the lid. It felt as if he were doing so in slow motion. Oh, Lord. What had she been thinking, bringing them in here? They might have tasted okay to her but maybe that had been wishful thinking. Her fingers trembled around the metal jug as she said, “I had a bizarre urge to bake yesterday afternoon.”

  “You cooked these?”

  She nodded. And then before she could snatch them away from him, he plucked one out and took a bite. Every part of her froze as she waited for his verdict. But instead of saying anything, he took another bite and then another, devouring the cookie entirely.

  “Man, these are excellent,” he said finally, grabbing another. “And I really needed that sugar boost.”

  “You really like them?” she asked, entirely distracted from her task of making coffee.

  “I do,” he said, his gorgeous lips twisting up at the edges. “I knew you could cook if only you believed in yourself. But if these are for anything special, then you’d better take them off me before I ingest the lot of them.”

  She shook her head. “They’re all yours.” It seemed silly now to say she’d made them for his mom to apologize for her weird behavior yesterday—she didn’t want to bring all that up again—but she was glad he appeared to be enjoying them. She doubted he’d eat them all, but if he did, she’d think of something else to give his mother.

  “In that case.” He took another. “I’m comfort eating.”

  She almost laughed, having never heard the phrase “comfort eating” come from a man before, but he didn’t appear to be in a laughing mood.

  “Why?” she asked instead. “What’s the problem?” Again, her heart hitched a little as she silently prayed it wasn’t her. He’d been nice about the cookies but after yesterday, did her presence here now make him uncomfortable? She didn’t want to leave but perhaps he’d prefer her to.

  “Kid trouble.” He let out a deep sigh. “Between Hallie and Hamish, I think I got maybe two hours of sleep max.”

  “Oh, no. Are they sick?” Both of them had seemed happy and in good health yesterday—well, as in good health as Hamish ever was with his condition—but she remembered clearly how a child could go from rosy cheeked to feverish in a matter of hours.

  Lachlan deliberated a moment as if contemplating how much to share, but when she handed him his coffee, he wrapped his fingers around it and said, “Thanks. Hallie was upset because I gave her some bad news last night. Linda called and told me she’s not coming back and that she thinks it would be better if Hallie lives full-time with me now.”

  “Linda’s staying with the sick aunt indefinitely?”

  “There was no sick aunt,” he said and then went on to inform her that Linda’s real purpose for heading to LA was to audition for acting roles.

  Eliza felt her eyes boggle as he told her the whole story. She could not imagine a woman so easily deserting her children, but then again, Linda had done it once before with Hamish. Anger burned within her at the thought.

  “Hallie had such a fabulous day yesterday, and I thought it was better to tell her the truth and get it over with. I tried to make it sound like her mother loved and wanted her to move to LA but believed that Hallie would be happier staying here with me and Hamish, but...” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, obviously distressed. “She’s a smart kid and she saw right through my attempt to soften the blow. For all she acts tough, she was heartbroken. She bawled her little eyes out into my chest until she finally fell asleep, still shuddering.”

  “Oh, the poor sweet girl.” Eliza tried to swallow the lump in her throat. The last thing Lachlan needed was another crying female on his hands, but her heart broke for Hallie.

  He nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “Then I’d just climbed into bed myself when Hamish woke up with really bad muscle spasms.”

  Eliza thought of the little boy who had physical disabilities but always seemed so chirpy and optimistic. She was relieved to hear that she was not responsible for Lachlan’s lack of sleep but deeply saddened by his explanation. “Does he get them a lot?”

  “We’re really lucky in that he doesn’t have as many debilitating symptoms as some CP kids do, but he goes through patches where the pain is pretty bad and sleep is always the first thing to be affected.”

  “What can you do for him?”

  “I do a little bit of massage, offer him pain relief, sit with him and make stupid dad jokes to try to distract him...” His voice trailed off as if she wasn’t the only one trying not to cry.

  “It must be heart wrenching watching him go through that.”

  “It kills me,” Lachlan said simply. No wonder he looked like he’d been hit by a bus.

  She didn’t know what to say. What could she say? He spoke again before she had to.

  “And it makes me question all of this.” He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, indicating the restaurant.

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  He laughed, but it wasn’t an amused kind of chuckle. “How the hell do I think I can cope opening a restaurant, running a restaurant and being the father I need to be at the same time? I must have been delusional!”

  “No. You’re not.” Without thinking, she reached out to touch his arm. His skin was warm beneath her fingers and it was on the tip of her tongue to offer to help with the kids, but she reminded herself he had family for that. “And you are not on your own doing any of those things. Don’t worry about the restaurant—we’ve got it covered, it’s going to be awesome—and Hallie and Hamish are going to be so proud of their dad.”

  He glanced down at her hand on his arm and then looked back up into her gaze. It was wrong to feel such attraction during such a conversation, but she couldn’t ignore the way her insides bubbled. And the way his pupils dilated told her he felt it, too.

  Her tongue darted out to try to moisten her suddenly parched lips, but it wasn’t her own mouth she craved. Almost of its own accord, her hand traveled up his arm, across his broad shoulder to rest at the back of his neck.

  She might not be able to fix his kid and ex-wife problems, but she could attempt to take his mind off them for a few moments, to give him some of the relief his touch had given her. And with this goal in mind, she stepped up close, pulled his head toward her and stretched up to kiss him.

  Within seconds, Lachlan’s hands landed on her back, sliding upward and into her hair as he deepened their kiss. Her body melted as her breasts pressed against his hard chest and his knee slid between her legs. Her heart rate went
berserk and all thoughts of propriety left her head as she reached between them for her prize.

  Lachlan groaned as her hand slid into his trousers and closed around his hot, getting-harder-by-the-second penis. Then he tore his mouth from hers and muttered, “Are you sure you want this?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded, knowing he was referring to yesterday. “Do you?”

  “Stupid question. Come on, we don’t have long.” Grabbing her hand, he led her over to the door, which he quickly locked, before all but dragging her into the kitchen and kicking that door closed behind them.

  As it shut, they came together like magnets, kissing and touching as if it were an Olympic race and they were going for gold. The knowledge that their staff would be arriving any minute meant they didn’t have long for fondling and caressing. But that didn’t matter. The moment Eliza had touched his arm, the moment he’d looked hungrily into her eyes, she’d been ready for this.

  Her body mourned the loss of his touch as he retrieved a condom from his wallet, undid his belt buckle, freed and sheathed himself in a matter of seconds. Then he lifted her up against one of the counters, pushing her skirt up around her hips as he did so. No time to take off her panties, he pushed that scrap of lace aside as well, and two seconds later, he was inside her.

  She cried out in bliss as he thrust hard and she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. The pleasure that ripped through her was so intense she had to hold on tight to his shoulders to anchor herself. His orgasm followed quickly on the heels of hers and they held each other, their foreheads pressed together as they waited for their heart rates to return to something like normal.

  He was still inside her when they heard knocking on the front door. She snapped her head back and looked into his eyes, horrified that her fellow colleagues might guess what they’d been up to. But when she saw his smile and the color once again in his cheeks, she thought such a discovery was worth it.