The Husband Recipe (20 page)

Cole walked toward the back door. “If you’ll have me. Can I call you later to see how it went?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered.

He nodded, accepting her answer without argument.

“I think you should come over after they leave,” she said softly. “We need to talk.”

He looked back at her, smiled and nodded. “We definitely need to talk.”

Was she fooling herself, thinking she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes? Hope very much like her own; hope that her personal reality was about to take a serious shift.

Chapter Fifteen

E
dward Mandel and his cameraman, Ben, were obviously hesitant when they walked through Lauren’s front door. Maybe they weren’t sure what they’d find here today. After yesterday’s fiasco they had good cause to be cautious. One good inhalation of breath and they both smiled. There was nothing like the smell of fresh baked goods to improve anyone’s mood.

“I don’t usually do this, hon—Ms. Russell, but your neighbor was most insistent.” Mandel smiled. “And I have to admit, it’s a great story. We can use it.”

Lauren just smiled. Half the time she didn’t know how to respond to the obnoxious producer. “Please, call me Lauren. It’s well past lunchtime, but can I get you something to eat?”

“That’s why we’re here.” Ben winked at her.

“The woman in Memphis has been signed on, but there’s no reason we can’t have two Southern belles on the show,” Mandel said, trying to sound practical and accommodating, she supposed. He held up one gnarled finger. “But she’s called dibs on the red hair and she doesn’t need a padded bra, so we’ll just have to play up the Southern thing for you. We can make it work.”

Lauren led them into the kitchen. She hadn’t bothered preparing the dining room today. There was no freshly cut centerpiece, no fancy place settings. Just her warm kitchen, a pitcher of very sweet iced tea, and a counter lined with baked goods. Ben headed straight for the cake. Edward was drawn to the lemon bars. A stack of crystal dessert plates sat at the end of the counter, along with silverware and neatly folded linen napkins. Both men grabbed a plate and started taking samples, small portions of everything she had prepared. They sat at her kitchen table facing one another, a pitcher of tea and two glasses between them. Lauren stepped forward to pour them each a glass, but she didn’t join them. She stood by, in case they needed anything that wasn’t within reach.

For a few minutes there was silence. The only sounds were smacking, slurping and the occasional low moan of pleasure. Lauren got a great deal of pleasure herself from watching the men, the beatific expressions on their faces, the way they each found their favorites and dug in.

Mandel had cleaned his plate and gone back for more when he looked her in the eye. “You’re in. Everything here is to die for, you’re pretty enough, we’ll use the story about the neighbor kids trying to sabotage you so you wouldn’t leave…. I swear, I think you could win it all. I wasn’t sure before this, but there’s just something about your story that people will buy into. And it’s not like you can’t cook. Are the kids cute? Please tell me they’re cute.” He plopped back down in his chair, his plate refilled.

“Adorable,” Lauren said sincerely.

“When can we start shooting? Maybe we can record a few scenes today. Ben, you’ve had enough to eat. Check the lighting in the kitchen…”

“No, thank you,” Lauren said, with a slight smile blooming on her face.

“You don’t want to use the kids?” Mandel sounded horrified. “But it’s such a great hook. We don’t have to show their faces, if that’s what you’re worried about, but…”

“You misunderstand, Mr. Mandel. I’m saying no to the whole thing. I don’t want to appear on your show.”

He looked stunned. Even Ben—who continued to eat and did not rise to start checking the lighting in her kitchen—was surprised. “
Everyone
wants to be on television,” Mandel said.

“It’s a lovely offer and I thank you for thinking of me, but I’m afraid the timing is very bad,” Lauren said.

“What do you mean the timing is bad?” Mandel stood, indignant. Lauren didn’t feel the need to point out that there were biscuit crumbs on his silk tie and a smudge of chocolate icing on his chin. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and if you don’t take it you’ll be sorry.”

“I don’t think I will.” At least, she was hopeful that there would be no regrets. “You see, I have a choice. I can fly to New York, appear on your show, and if I’m lucky I’ll be able to teach other people how to cook and decorate and entertain and make a house a home. Or I can stay here and practice what I preach.”

Mandel sighed, sat down, took a long swig of iced tea that was so sweet it could make your teeth rattle. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

“Why on earth did you invite us back if you didn’t want the gig?” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Not that I care. There are hundreds of people dying for a spot on my show.
Thousands,
even.”

“I didn’t invite you back,” Lauren said. “It was my neighbor who called. I merely showed you a bit of Southern hospitality once you were here.” And proved to them, in the process, that she
could
cook. “It was the least I could do.”

Perhaps Mandel was annoyed, but he finished what was on his plate before he stood, reaching into a breast pocket inside his jacket to withdraw a business card and toss it onto the kitchen table. “Just in case you change your mind,” he said. “I plan to have the cast set by the end of the week, so don’t drag your feet.”

Lauren didn’t suffer a moment’s doubt. She wouldn’t be calling.

Ben grabbed a couple of biscuits for the road, winked at her again and followed Mandel out the door.

Instead of calling Cole—as if he wouldn’t hear and/or see Mandel leaving in his noisy rental car—Lauren walked next door. She left by way of her front door before Mandel reached the corner. She walked across the grass with purpose in her step, her destination straight ahead. In a matter of seconds she stood on the front porch and rang the bell. They’d cleaned up a bit. There were no more mangled dolls, no more muddy balls. She glanced up at the spot where she’d hang a fern, given the chance.

Cole opened the door quickly. Yeah, he’d been watching and waiting. They stood there for a moment, and she had to look up to meet his gaze.

“When do you leave?” he asked, his voice low and serious.

“I don’t,” Lauren said. “I turned the offer down.” She smiled. “The producer was quite surprised. May I come in?”

“Sure.” Cole back away from the door and Lauren walked inside. “Why did you decide not to go?”

“My assessment of Mr. Mandel is no better today than it was yesterday. I have no desire to participate in competitions that will likely have me preparing meals with one hand tied behind my back, or eating bugs in order to get my hands on a stick of butter, or…I don’t know, setting a proper table with a ball of twine, a stack of paper plates and a sheet of construction paper. That’s not who I am.”

Cole didn’t smile, even though her examples had been purposely extreme. “Whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re not going.”

“Then why on earth did you track Mandel down and insist that he give me another shot?”

Cole glanced around the quiet room, even though they were all alone. Maybe he didn’t want to look at her as he answered. Maybe he was afraid she’d see too much in his eyes. “Because if this is an opportunity you don’t want, it has to be in your control to turn it down.”

Lauren sighed. “Complete control is highly overrated.”

He looked at her then. “Not something I ever expected to hear you say.”

“Not something I ever expected to say.” Lauren smiled a little. “There’s another reason I turned down the chance to go to New York.”

“And that is?” he prodded when she hesitated.

“I don’t want to wave at you as you pass by, Cole. I want to grab you, literally and figuratively. I want to hold on to you through thick and thin, through mud and magic potions and maybe even long discussions—one day—about babies.” She held her breath. There it was. She’d laid her heart on the line, she’d even presented him with his worst fear. Babies. Cole could either let himself be grabbed or he could turn away. If she was right about him… Oh, she so hoped she was right….

He moved toward her, cautiously, giving her a chance to back away. She didn’t.

“I was wrong,” he said.

She could see so much in his eyes, and if she was reading those eyes correctly this day was going to end very nicely. “Details, please? What precisely were you wrong about?” She tried to hold her ground, but it was hard not to melt when Cole was this close to her.

“When I told you it was done between us, I was wrong. I was scared and I panicked.”

She just hummed under her breath. “Say it again.”

“I was scared?”

She shook her head.

“I was wrong.”

“Yes, that’s it.”

Cole reached out and touched her hair, pushing away one wayward strand. She reached up and placed two fingertips on his jaw. He was so warm and wonderfully solid.

“I haven’t been in love for a very long time and when it came at me out of nowhere, I lost it. I said it was all about babies, and to be honest that really is a scary thought for me. But that’s not why I ran. You got too close and I panicked.” He stood so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body. “I don’t want to lose you, Lauren.”

Love.

“Do you drink out of the milk carton?” she asked.

“Daily,” he admitted.

“Throw your socks on the floor?”

“I have been known to miss the hamper, on occasion.”

“Do you leave the toilet seat up?”

“Now and then.” He grimaced. “If this is a test I must be failing miserably.”

“No test,” Lauren said. “I’m just mentally revising a list.”

“A list?”

“How tall are you, exactly?”

“Six-two.”

Lauren sighed. “Might as well just shred my list, I suppose.” She lifted her arms and draped them around Cole’s neck. “Or buy a stepladder and some high-heeled shoes.” Truth be told, she hadn’t given that particular list much thought lately. There were other, more important things to consider. Like laughing, and learning to jump on a trampoline, and hugging kids who embraced with all they had…and falling in love with a man who turned her perfectly organized house into a home. “What are you doing this evening?” she asked.

Cole pulled her closer, dipped his head to place his cheek close to hers. “I don’t know, what am I doing this evening?”

“You can help me deliver what’s left of the food I prepared today to my grandmother’s retirement village.”

He grumbled. “Not exactly what I had in mind. We have the house to ourselves and you want me to go to an old folks’ home to deliver cookies?”

“Gran’s anxious to meet you.” Lauren closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She loved the way Cole smelled, loved what his closeness did to her. “And I’m anxious for you to meet her. Gran’s important to me. She’s my rock. She’s…me in fifty years, so I’m hoping you’ll like her.”

“If she’s that much like you then I’m sure I’ll love her. Maybe not as much as I love you…” He stopped, seeming to choke on the words.

It was the second time in a matter of minutes that the word
love
had come out of his mouth. Unplanned, spontaneous. She liked it; she liked it a lot.