Chapter 20
Jeremiah
For three days, I’d been planning this date with the meticulous attention to detail usually reserved for military operations or NASA space launches.
I had reservations, backup reservations, and a Plan C that didn’t require any reservations at all, though it did involve a boxed meal that included a child’s prize.
I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but a man had to plan for everything when he went on a date with Theo.
“This time, nothing is going wrong,” I said, immediately regretting challenging the universe to a dare.
Theo texted me twice to confirm that Julia would be there, that her car was running fine, and that Debbie was already excited about their girls’ night involving face masks and what she called “fancy fingernails.”
He was clearly as nervous as I was about another potential date disaster.
I spent twenty minutes in front of my closet, finally settling on dark jeans and a blue button-down that Sisi had once declared “criminally attractive,” not that I was overthinking this or anything.
The drive to Theo’s house felt like it took forever and no time at all. My palms were sweating against the steering wheel, which was ridiculous. This was just dinner, dinner with the man who’d been occupying my thoughts every waking moment for the past two weeks, but still.
I parked in front of his house and sat for a moment, trying to calm my racing heart. Through the living room window, I caught the warm glow of lamps and what looked like Debbie bouncing around in her pajamas. Everything looked and felt normal and domestic.
Perfect.
I made it to the front door and rang the bell, running a hand through my hair one last time.
The door opened, and every coherent thought I’d ever had fled my brain.
Theo stood there looking better than I’d ever seen him.
His hair was actually behaving for once—save a stray lock that rebelled against nature itself.
It fell across his forehead in a way that made my fingers itch to brush it back.
He wore dark jeans that fit him perfectly and a green sweater that hugged his thin frame and brought out the gold flecks in his brown eyes.
But it was his smile that nearly knocked me over. It was open and genuine and so bright it could have guided ships to shore.
“Hi,” he said, his voice carrying that slightly breathless quality that suggested he was just as nervous as I was.
“Hi yourself,” I managed, though I was pretty sure I was gaping like an idiot.
I must have taken a step backward without realizing it, because suddenly Theo was lurching forward, his hands reaching out to grip my arms to steady me before I could tumble off the steps. I’d barely processed the weightless feeling of falling backward before Theo was pulling me toward him.
And his lips were on mine.
And it wasn’t the quick, surprised kiss from our first encounter.
Oh, no, this was deliberate and warm and faultless, his mouth soft against mine while his hands held me close. I felt my knees go weak, and for a moment, the entire world narrowed down to just this—Theo’s lips, the faint scent of his cologne, and the way he fit perfectly against me.
On cue—because this was Theo and me—from somewhere across the street came the sound of applause, a wild hoot, and a loud whistle.
We broke apart, turning to find Mrs. Chen standing on her front porch, clapping enthusiastically while Cuddles barked approval from beside her.
“Don’t mind us!” Mrs. Chen called out, her voice floating easily across the quiet neighborhood. “Carry on!”
I caught movement in the living room window and peered over to see Debbie’s face pressed against the glass, her eyes wide with fascination. When she realized I’d spotted her, she giggled and quickly yanked the curtains closed, as though she thought she’d been completely invisible the entire time.
I smiled and waved at the now-closed curtains, which immediately twitched open just enough for one small eye to peek through.
“Find a dark corner somewhere!” Mrs. Chen shouted helpfully. “Dim lighting hides all the flaws! And don’t come home until you’ve made that man yours, Theodore! I wanna see hickies!”
Theo’s face went approximately the color of a fire truck, but he was grinning.
“I think we have an audience,” he said quietly.
“I don’t care,” I said, and was surprised to find I meant it.
Mrs. Chen could invite the entire neighborhood to watch for all I cared. Nothing was going to ruin this night.
“Willie Wee!” Debbie’s voice carried from inside the house. “Are you taking Daddy on a date?”
“I am indeed, princess,” I called back.
“Good! He brushed his teeth three times and used the fancy soap!”
“Fancy soap?” I raised an eyebrow.
Theo buried his face in my shoulder with a groan. “It has moisturizer,” he said defensively. “Don’t judge me.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. This was exactly what I’d been hoping for—not perfection, but something real and warm and absolutely, uniquely us.
“Ready for our adventure?” I asked, offering him my arm.
“God, yes. Get me out of this neighborhood right now.”
“As m’lord commands,” I said, stepping carefully off the stair and offering a mock bow.
“You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope, but I promise you’ll like it.”
Theo looked back toward the house, where I could see Julia waving from the living room window with Debbie bouncing beside her.
“They’ll be fine,” I said gently. “Julia’s got this. And I’d wager good money that Mrs. Chen checks in on them before the night’s over.”
He nodded, took a deep breath, and closed the door behind him.
“Okay,” he said, surprising me again by slipping his hand into mine, threading our fingers as though we’d been holding hands our entire lives. “I’m ready.”
As we walked toward my car, Mrs. Chen barked one more time: “Have fun, boys! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“That leaves us a lot of options,” Theo muttered, but he was still smiling.
As I was helping him into the passenger seat, I noticed Mrs. Chen had disappeared into her house, only to reappear moments later holding up what looked like a piece of paper with a large “9” written on it.
“It was a good kiss, but I want more tongue next time . . . for the ten!” she shouted cheerfully, waving the makeshift scorecard in the air.
Theo practically dove into the car, his face blazing red as he fumbled with his seat belt. “Drive. Please. Before she gets a megaphone or texts all the neighbors. They have a group chat.”
I couldn’t stop laughing as I jogged around to the driver’s side, Mrs. Chen still cheering from her porch while Cuddles barked enthusiastically beside her.
“Your neighbor is . . .” I started as I got behind the wheel.
“Insane?” Theo suggested, still trying to hide behind his hands.
“I was going to say entertaining.”
“Same thing.”
I reached across the seat and squeezed his thigh as I started the engine, my heart racing with anticipation.
Third time really was going to be the charm.
The drive through downtown Atlanta felt surreal, like I was floating somewhere between dream and reality. My mind was a complete blur, replaying that kiss on the porch over and over until I was pretty sure I’d worn a groove in my brain.
“So how was your day?” I asked, regretting the idiocy of the question while trying to sound casual with my heart hammering against my ribs.
“Better now,” Theo said. To my complete surprise, he reached over and placed his hand on my leg, just above my knee. And—miracle of miracles—he left it there.
I nearly drove into a car parked on the side of the street.
“Careful there,” he said with a grin that suggested he knew exactly what effect he was having on me. “I’d rather not become a traffic statistic on our first real date.”
“Right. Focus. Driving.” I gripped the steering wheel tighter, hyperaware of the warmth of his hand through my jeans.
Our first real date. I hadn’t thought of it in exactly those terms. It felt like we’d known each other for a while, despite the newness of everything.
Still, if I kept a strict score, he was right.
Every other attempt at dating had failed or broken or simply fallen apart in our hands.
This was our first actual get-out-of-the-house date.
Rather than calm my fraying nerves, that thought sent my overactive mind into, well, overdrive. “You were saying about your day?”
“Right. I had lunch with Mike and Mateo today. Turns out they know you.”
“Yeah, they’re good guys. Wait, did they give you the third degree? Because Sisi warned me they might—”
“They may have asked about my intentions,” Theo said dryly.
“Your what?”
“Intentions. Do I plan to treat you in an honorable way, or am I going to knock you up and leave you with eight children and no job?”I snorted, somewhere between a laugh and wheeze.
Theo merely grinned. “But the real news is that Mateo got engaged.”
“What the fuck?” slipped out. “Sorry, potty mouth. My bad.”
Theo rolled his eyes. “Watch your fucking language.”
I glanced his way. The annoying man was grinning.
“Fucking asshole and your fucking rules.”
“Damn straight. Well, not straight. Still . . . fuckwad.”
I couldn’t hold back a laugh.
Theo’s grin widened.
“So, Shane finally proposed? It’s about time. That man’s been carrying that ring around for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment.”
“You knew?” Theo sounded shocked.
I nodded. “It was hard to miss when a guy that size starts acting nervous around jewelry stores. Plus, Mike’s been practically vibrating with excitement every time someone mentioned weddings. Even he knew what Shane was up to, just not when or how he would ask.”
Theo groaned.
“What?” I asked, my eyes darting from the road to him and back. “Oh, shit. Please tell me he didn’t propose in a gas station.”
“It might be worse.”
“Oh, shit. Tell me,” I said.
“Pizza Hut. In front of Ms. Pacman.”
The car fell silent.
“That’s actually perfect.”
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 on Little 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.