Theo choked on a laugh. “What?”
“When you know them better, it’ll make sense. That’s totally them.”
Theo laughed again, his thumb tracing small circles on my leg that were definitely not helping my concentration. “They asked me to come to the wedding. Us. They asked both of us, actually.”
“Both of us?”
“Apparently I’m your boyfriend now, according to Mateo.”
I felt my face heat up. “And how do you feel about that?”
“It’s a little early for titles, but I think I could get used to it. You know, warm up to the idea. It’s not awful. Or fucking awful,” he said quietly, and something in his voice made my chest tighten with hope.
The tension stabbing my shoulder blades eased. “Not fucking awful. I’ll take that.”
“They also mentioned someone called Mrs. H,” Theo continued. “Mike seemed to think she was a force of nature. What’s with that?”
I groaned. “Oh God, they told you about Mrs. H?”
“Just that she likes to ‘twist your undies’ and has opinions about people’s love lives. Should I be worried?”
“Mrs. H is . . .” I paused, trying to figure out how to explain the phenomenon that was Mrs. Henderson. “You know how some people say little old ladies are sweet and harmless?”
“Yeah?”
“Mrs. H is living proof that people are wrong. She’s about four-foot-ten and weighs maybe ninety pounds soaking wet, but she’s got the mouth of a sailor and the strategic mind of a general. She shows up to every group gathering with a vile, inedible Scottish casserole and a detailed analysis of everyone’s romantic prospects. I swear that woman plays fantasy football with our dating lives, complete with cards taped to her wall and possibilities for next-season trades.”
Theo was already laughing. “That sounds . . . slightly terrifying.”
“She cornered me at Mike’s birthday party and spent twenty minutes explaining why I needed to ‘stop playing hard to get with that sweet librarian’ and ‘make my move before some other handsome devil swoops in.’”
“She said that? About me?”
“That was the G-rated version. She also offered to teach me some ‘tricks with my tongue that would make any man weak in the knees’ and suggested I invest in better cologne and tighter pants. Oh, and she ordered me to stop wearing underwear.”
Theo was full-on giggling now, the sound filling the car with warmth. “I think I like her already.”
“Just wait until she gets a look at you. She’s going to eat you alive.”
“Bring it on. I can handle one little old lady. I have Mrs. Chen to warm me up.”
“Famous last words,” I said, pulling into a parking spot in front of our destination. “She makes Mrs. Chen look like Laura Ingalls Wilder onLittle House.”
The car halted.
We both looked up at the restaurant, and I felt a flutter of nervousness.
The building looked like it had been transported from another century—red brick and ivy, with windows that probably predated the Civil War. It sat nestled between gleaming modern office towers like a stubborn reminder of Atlanta’s past, completely out of place and utterly charming.
“Is this my surprise?” Theo asked, staring at the building with wonder.
“The first part,” I said, my heart fluttering as I opened my car door and stepped into the cooling autumn air.
Chapter 21
Theo
The heavy wooden door swung open with a creak that sounded like it belonged in a different century, possibly to a dungeon, definitely to a castle of some kind. We stepped into what could only be described as paradise.
