The Husband Recipe. Linda Winstead Jones

oddly charming, mostly toothless smile. “And I’m really tired of Meredith’s chicken fingers. Thanks.”

      Justin, the stubborn one, sighed. “Thank you, Ms. Russell. For the peach cobbler.” The youngest—who would live on chicken strips and honey mustard if given the option—was doing his best not to look directly at his father.

      “Why don’t y’all call me Miss Lauren,” their neighbor said. “After all, I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” She looked directly at Justin. “I’m very sorry to hear that you don’t like lasagna. Tell me, what do you like? Just in case I cook for you again, I should know.”

      Justin wasn’t shy about answering. “I like chicken fingers, hot dogs and Pop Tarts and chocolate chip cookies and ice cream.” He lifted a stubby little finger. “But not butter-pecan ice cream. Yuck. That’s worse than lasagna.”

      Lauren worked to suppress a smile. Her lips firmed as she resisted, but Cole could see the laughter in her eyes. It was a good—and oddly enticing—look for her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      Cole dismissed the kids and they returned to their activities, leaving him alone with Lauren—and the food. She took a step back, toward the door. It was almost as if she was trying not to look directly at him.

      “Thank you again,” he said. “You really didn’t have to, but we’ll enjoy it.”

      She nodded, and still her eyes were everywhere but on him. Had he done something to piss her off? He couldn’t think of anything he might’ve done to make her nervous, but she was definitely uncomfortable. Out of her element. She’d been fine when he’d answered the door, okay when the kids had been with them, but now that they were alone again it was like she couldn’t wait to get away.

      “You can just drop the pans off on the porch when you’re finished with them,” she said. “No rush. I have more than enough cookware.”

      Cole peeked beneath the warm cloth that covered the food. Sure enough, the food had been prepared and delivered in heavy glass dishes instead of disposable aluminum foil. No wonder the basket weighed so much!

      When he returned his gaze to Lauren, he found her no longer avoiding him. In fact, she stared right at him and for a moment, a long, lingering, uncomfortable moment, she looked as if she were completely and totally lost and confused. He recognized the pained expression on her pretty face because he saw it in the mirror almost every day.

      It took all of Lauren’s discipline not to run home and slam the door behind her. She walked with purpose, almost positive that someone was watching her through a window or from the front porch. Tempted as she was, she didn’t run and she didn’t look back.

      She should’ve just let things go. If she hadn’t decided that the family next door could use a good meal and she needed to make amends, she might not have suffered that moment of clarity. She might’ve simply resigned herself to the increased neighborhood noise and looked forward to school starting in a few weeks. Once school began she’d have several quiet hours every day.

      But for a moment, a long, horrifying moment, she had suffered. Her life was perfect. She loved her job. She loved her house. She had friends and family, though in her small family only Gran lived close enough to see on a regular basis. Lauren never ever missed having a man in her life. She didn’t have time for a man, didn’t want one, didn’t miss the messy complications of a romantic relationship. She remembered too well what it had felt like to lose what she’d thought was love, to have the rug pulled out from under her. One day she’d meet a man and fall in love, though next time she intended to be more careful, to be cautious and wait until her career was more well established and then … only then …

      A man with three kids was not in her plan. Not only was the time not right, she had no intention of taking on an entire family. Perhaps one day she’d have a child of her own. One, when the time was right. Preferably a little girl, but a son would be acceptable. Not that she planned to rush into anything. She wasn’t yet thirty. There was plenty of time to find the right man, wait a while to make sure she wasn’t mistaken this time around, and only then, perhaps, a child.

      Her life was carefully ordered, and though she’d only admitted so to a few close friends, she had a wish list for the perfect man. Among the requirements were no jocks and no kids. Jocks were often self-centered and since she wasn’t at all interested in sports that would be a problem right off the bat. Stepchildren were always a complication. Why ask for trouble?

      But she’d watched Cole Donovan as he’d spoken to his children, and her heart had done a decided flip. She’d felt a flutter in her chest. She’d also felt an unexpected flutter a good bit lower. Why was it that a totally unsuitable man who obviously loved his children made her biological clock kick into gear as if it had been jump-started with an electric jolt?

      The broad shoulders, big hands and blue eyes hadn’t helped matters at all. The way his jeans fit and the fascinating muscles in his forearms had been an unwanted distraction. She’d noticed that he’d recently shaved, and the sharp line of his jaw was more than a little interesting. She’d very much wanted to reach out and touch him, just lay one finger on a muscle or that nice jaw to see how warm he was, how hard.

      Not only that, the way Justin had looked into her eyes as he’d made it very clear that he didn’t like lasagna had grabbed her heart and made her fight off an inappropriate smile. Hank was absolutely charming, and Meredith was a beautiful girl with vulnerability too easily seen, in spite of her attempt at cold dismissal.

      His house was a mess, his kids—charming though they might occasionally be—were uncontrollable, and the disruption of having this family next door was ruining Lauren’s once neatly organized life.

      But she couldn’t deny that they possessed something she didn’t. There had been so much love in the room that it had washed over her like a tidal wave. She hadn’t expected that strong emotion, hadn’t wanted it, and she certainly didn’t want to be a part of it.

      Who was she kidding? She would never be a part of anything like what she’d discovered at the house next door. It wasn’t in her plan, didn’t fit into her life, and any strange compulsion she had to cook for Justin and touch Cole Donovan had to be squelched. Now.

      They hadn’t had a meal like this one since they’d moved away from Birmingham and Janet’s frequent offerings. Even though Cole had told her time and time again that it wasn’t necessary for her to cook for them, he’d looked forward to the meals his sister-in-law had prepared for them. He’d tried to learn, and he had mastered a few basics, but he wasn’t a very good cook. Meredith was going to surpass him in the cooking department in no time.

      Though Justin had insisted that he didn’t like lasagna, after watching his sister and brother dive into theirs he’d taken a hesitant bite. Now he was relishing his food, just as Hank and Meredith were. The frozen stuff he’d tasted a time or two couldn’t hold a candle to this.

      Hank scraped the last of what was on his plate onto his fork, shoved it into his mouth, and before he swallowed he said, “I think you should date her, Dad.”

      Cole automatically reminded his middle child not to talk with food in his mouth, and then he added, “I don’t date.”

      “What’s a date?” Justin asked.

      Meredith answered, “It’s when a boy and a girl, or a man and a woman, go out to eat and to a movie. Sometimes they might dance, or go bowling or something.” She kept her eyes on her plate.

      Hank added, “And then they kiss.”

      “I want to go on a date,” Justin said. “But without the kissing. Yuck. Maybe Miss Lauren would take me to the new movie with the talking hamsters and then we could get ice cream. Would that be a good date?”

      Meredith took a deep breath. “You’re too young for Miss Lauren,” she said bitterly. “She wants to date Dad, which is why she brought over lasagna and dessert and stared at him like he was one of the Jonas brothers, and do you really think this food was intended