Not knowing what else to do, Jane took a bite of the sandwich and— “Oh my God.”
Tess smiled. “Right?”
Shirl just sat back, looking pleased.
Jane practically moaned her way through the entire sandwich and just barely managed not to lick the container when she was done.
“Here.” Levi’s mom was going through her phone, tapping away, and then Jane’s phone buzzed with a text. “The recipe.”
“Are you kidding me?” Tess asked. “I’ve been asking you for that recipe for years.”
“You don’t need the meatloaf,” Shirl said.
“Was that a fat joke? I’m pregnant, not fat.”
“Honey.” Shirl reached out and hugged Tess. “Of course that wasn’t a fat joke, you’re perfect. I just meant that you don’t need the recipe because I’ll always cook it for you. You’ve given me Peyton, and now another sweet grandbaby is coming . . .” She put her hand on Tess’s still-flat belly. “And you indulge me by living at home and letting me be part of their daily village.”
“It’s because I can’t afford to move out.”
“Shh. Don’t ruin my fantasy.”
Tess laughed, but Jane actually felt her heart tug hard at these two women who’d somehow become a part of her life.
How was she going to let them go? How was she going to let Levi go? To distract herself, she looked at the recipe. “This might be above my pay grade.”
“Levi loves this recipe,” Shirl said.
“Are you suggesting that Jane cook it to snare Levi?” Tess asked in horror. “Mom, women don’t have to cook for their men anymore. You know that, right? Love comes from the heart, not the stomach.”
“Bull pucky,” Shirl said. “Cook the meatloaf, Jane. Trust me on this.”
“Mom, seriously. Stop. You’re setting women back fifty years.”
Shirl shrugged. “I’m still married to the man I married forty years ago. The proof’s in the pudding. Or, in this case, the meatloaf.”
Jane didn’t want to be rude and disagree, but personally she thought if a man wanted her for her meatloaf, he was going to go through life greatly disappointed.
But if said man loved her for her and her alone . . . and if that man was Levi, she knew she’d do everything she could to make it work. How scary was that?
WHEN JANE GOT off work, she stopped at the store and bought the ingredients for the meatloaf. But only because it’d been a most excellent meatloaf.
She wandered into the kitchen and found Mateo, who had Charlotte up against the fridge. They were . . . well, kissing seemed too tame a word, but even from across the room Jane could see how much he loved her even as his hands slid up her back, pulling her even closer.
Jane cleared her throat. “Nice use of appliance.”
Charlotte gasped and broke free.
Mateo grinned. “We got hungry.”
Jane loved the look on Charlotte’s face. Happiness. “Good thing I’m cooking then.”
Charlotte blinked. “Did you say . . . cooking?” She smacked Mateo lightly on his arm. “I knew it. You kissed all my brain cells gone because I could swear she just said she was . . . cooking.”
“Ha-ha,” Jane said. “Watch and learn.”
When she pulled the meatloaf out of the oven an hour later, the kitchen was crowded. Zoe and Mariella had joined them, brought in by the scent.
“Who are you and what have you done with my Jane?” Charlotte asked.