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“I knew it!” I shouted. “There had to be something special in it because I have tried for years to make it like she does.”
Shelby handed me a spatula. “I promise you will be the first person I share the recipe with.”
I grabbed the spatula and plopped a huge piece on my plate. “Just tell me the first letter of one of the secret ingredients,” I insisted.
Shelby shook her head. “I can’t, Missy.”
I hmphed and snatched a piece of garlic bread.
“Just tell her the first letter,” Wilder encouraged. “It’s the least you can do by tricking her into coming tonight.” He sat next to Blake, and Shelby moved to sit next to me.
“W.” She grabbed her napkin and laid it in her lap.
“W?” What in the world? I couldn’t think of one ingredient that started with a W that would be in lasagna.
“Walnuts?” Wilder guessed.
Shelby shook her head and scooped a piece of lasagna onto her plate. “No.”
“Wasabi,” Charlie guessed.
I wrinkled my nose and prayed to god that was not the secret ingredient.
“Uh, no. Flo and Del are not into the spice.” Shelby motioned to Wilder to lift his plate, and she plopped a huge piece on his plate.
“Weed,” Blake blurted.
Shelby’s mouth dropped open, and Charlie smothered his laugh with the back of his hand.
“Dude,” Wilder laughed. “We are not in the city where people put weed in their lasagna.”
“People put weed in their lasagna in the city?” Shelby asked.
“Maybe,” Wilder and Blake called in unison.
“What in the world did you do in the nine years you were in the big city?” Shelby laughed. “I think I might need to check my spice cabinet to make sure you didn’t add your own secret ingredients.”
Wilder shook his head. “Not my thing, babe.”
“Me neither,” Blake called. “At least not anymore. College years were a different story, though.” He held his plate out to Shelby, and she just stared at him. “What?” he asked.
“I thought you were the most straight-laced and boring guy, Blake, and here you sit telling us that weed lasagna was on the menu back in college.”
He shrugged. “Gonna judge me for that?”
“Not at all,” she laughed. “I just think it’s great that you’re not some boring stick in the mud.” She scooped a huge piece of lasagna and plopped it onto his plate. “Bone apple titties.”
“Shelby!” I laughed.
“Have you been drinking?” Wilder asked.
Shelby winked at me.
“What is going on here?” Charlie asked. “I just came for dinner, and suddenly I’m getting a show and bone apple titties? Is that dessert?”
Wilder stood and walked into the kitchen. “And now we’re all going to drink,” he called. “You want wine or a beer, Missy?” he called.
“Oh, uh,” I gasped. “I’m good with water. I have to drive home and then take Bandit for a walk. I can’t be stumbling down the street while he’s trying to pee.” And I was also pregnant. Good lord. I hadn’t even thought of having to dodge having a drink.
