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The other man nods with a knowing expression. “And your sister is waiting. I know. She came in earlier to buy scones for your British jewel.” He smiles at me. “I hope you like scones. She insisted all British people do.”

“I like them just fine.”

“Well, you wait until you taste them. They are very unique and made by our very own Regan Rivers.”

“Oh, like the same name that’s on the subdivision?” I ask, intrigued that this isn’t some large corporate development, but a family run one.

“Yes, she’s actually a Wilde—they founded this place we call home, but she married Mr. Rivers, and now I guess she’s both.”

“You, this man!” a loud feminine voice booms from behind us and I jump and glance over my shoulder.

A tall, statuesque woman with skin like polished mahogany and wide sparkling eyes that betray her disapproving frown approaches us. “This isn’t happy hour.” She comes to stand next to Lo and bumps his hip with hers. He turns to face her and narrows his eyes at her, but his smile is all tenderness. He taps a finger on the tip of her nose. “It’s always happy hour when you’re here.” He leans down to kiss her. “And don’t shout at me in front of Omar’s wife.”

“What?” She turns her head sharply toward us, her eyes wide as she looks between Omar and me. “You got married and you didn’t even bring her to meet me first?” she scolds Omar with a wag of her finger. She looks at me and then clasps her hands in front of her chin and grins from ear to ear. “Oh, you dey too fine.” She reaches over to nudge Omar’s shoulder with a playful smile. “I see why you dey hide ‘em,” she says with a sly smile.

“Why, thank you. But he hasn’t been hiding me,” I respond with a smile as wide as hers. “It’s been years since I heard anyone speak pidgin.”

“Dear Lord,” Sweet gasps and presses a hand to her chest. “She understands pidgin. Omar, I approve of your wife.” She pulls me into a warm hug. She smells like garlic and lemons, and by the time she lets me go, I’m looser and lighter. And pretty sure she’s my new favorite person.

“I’m notactuallyhis wife,” I correct, but this time with a laugh.

“Trust me, you are. Ifhehas brought you home, then that’s what you are,” she beams at me. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Sweet… in name and spirit.”

“Until you insult Nigerian jollof.” Omar winks at her.

“Thatis a hill she will die on,” Lo chimes in.

“Stop telling tales about me.” She smacks his arm and then tugs it to pull him into a hug. “We’re so happy to have you back. The place wasn’t the same without your scowl or your ability to clear a room with one look,” she says, patting his back and smiling with her eyes closed.

I can’t believe Omar has never mentioned these people or this place. Out of sight is out of mind for him, I guess. But I can’t imagine, even if this is my only encounter with them, that I’ll ever forget it.

“Is this place yours?” I ask, looking around the large, beautifully decorated café. It’s relatively uncrowded at ten in the morning, but it’s got the capacity for a large number of people.

“You’re lucky you came before the lunch rush starts. Otherwise, I would have had to wave at you from the kitchen.”

“I’m glad, too. It’s nice to be back.”

“I hope you’re staying for as long as you were gone.” She looks expectantly between the two of us.

I reach for Omar’s hand and lace our fingers together. “I hope so, too.”

“Let me give you some of the kolaches we have left over from breakfast. And your honeycomb latte. Do you want two or does your lady only drink tea?”

He grins at her and turns his gaze to me. “Coffee or tea?”

I hate to live up to the stereotype, but my nerves are already dancing around like crazy, so I ask for one of the sparkling fruit spritzers I spied on their menu.

“A woman after my own heart.” Sweet smiles and disappears. The door chimes, and Lo’s attention turns to the customers that just walked in. “Okay, let me go and do my work. But come back tomorrow for breakfast, and we’ll talk. I want to hear all about the lady who harpooned you.”

“Wow, they’re lovely,” I whisper as we stand aside and wait for Sweet to come back with whatever it was she said she was bringing. I’ve forgotten already, but I haven’t forgotten the excitement on her face as she mentioned it.

“Yeah, everyone here is…in their own way.” His smile is so fond and endearing.

“Why haven’t you ever mentioned them?”

“Honestly, since I met you, this place fell into my rearview. Working on the house in London, living there I started to think of it as home. But yeah, this place is great.”

The affection in his voice squeezes my heart. “How did you find it?”