“Where’s Mom?” Uncle Pete was wandering by with a clipboard, and a frown on his face.

Orion looked up from the sack of potatoes he was sorting, then cursed under his breath. Gramma had been settled in a corner reading a cozy mystery, commenting on the ridiculous motive of the current main suspect.

And now she was nowhere to be seen… until Orion strode around the corner. There was a distinctly Gramma-shaped outline in the ridged translucent plastic of the herb greenhouse.

“Found her,” he sighed.

“Kid, she’s going to keep you on your toes.” Pete clapped him on the shoulder.

Orion shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t realize she was this bad about it. I mean, Jesus.” He almost rubbed his face with dirt before catching himself and pulling his gardening gloves off. “She broke a hip. That’s hard for anyone, let alone at her age.”

“But try telling Mom that.” Pete sighed.

Orion watched him closely for a moment. His uncle had aged, too—everyone around here had over the past few years. But he looked stressed now, with lines in his forehead that Orion didn’t remember.

“At least when she was at the stall, she was under Gabe’s eye. The kid could barely talk her out of lifting shit around there, though.” Pete kept his voice low and confidential. “But the heat…”

“God, no. Not in the middle of the summer.” It was hard for anyone to take, but it had gotten noticeably harder on her over the last few years, Orion’s uncles had told him. “The greenhouse won’t be great, either.”

“Nope.” Peter’s phone rang. “Oh, that’ll be the order I’m waiting for.”

Orion waved him away to take the call while he headed to the greenhouse to drag his Gramma back to a chair. Even that wasn’t ideal. Lying flat would be a hell of a lot better, but she’d laughed in his face at the reminder.

At least Gramma had her cane now, even if she grumbled about using it. She clearly needed it, with how heavily it pressed into the mud, constantly getting stuck.

“Gramma,” he addressed her when he had the greenhouse door open. Sure enough, she was leaning on the table with one arm, trying to repot parsley one-handed. “I’m supposed to be your hands, you know. But I only have two.”

“That beats me right now. Give me a hand, there’s a dear.”

Orion shut the door after himself and strode over to quickly finish repotting the plant, then set it in the tray of other plants and offered her his arm. “Come on, Gramma. You’ve gotta sit down.” He took her cane for her.

“It’s driving me batty,” she grumbled as she leaned on him. They made their slow way back to the shade under the canopy where he’d been sorting potatoes until a minute ago. Since the hurricane, the worst of which had fortunately missed the town, they hadn’t gotten around to flattening the paths again. That made it difficult to walk around with limited mobility. How she’d snuck away, he didn’t know. “All this sitting around when there’s real work to be done!”

“I know. But someone will get around to doing everything that needs to be done,” Orion told her, trying to be gentle and understanding instead of letting frustration get to him. He wasn’t great at sitting around when there was work to be done, either—hell, that’s what had made him plunge into sorting the baby potatoes for sale at the stand this week. “You can’t get back to helping out this summer if you keep yourself injured by not resting.”

That, apparently, worked enough to calm her protests as they got her settled back in the chair. How the hell had she snuck away, anyway? He must have been distracted.

Definitely not by thoughts of taking these bags of potatoes up to the road. He flushed under the wide brim of his hat and tugged it over his face, glad for the shade under this tarp.

As if reading his thoughts, Gramma spoke up, eyeing him over her book. “Have you checked in with Gabriel yet?”

“Not today.”

“He’ll need more of those potatoes to get him through the lunch rush. It’s Thursday, isn’t it? Fred will come by to pick up more potatoes for tomorrow’s breakfast…”

“Working as fast as I can, Gramma.” Orion laughed. “It’ll be faster if I don’t have to keep fishing you out of greenhouses and sheds.”

She huffed but waved a hand. “Fine. I’ll stay here if you make sure he’s set for today.”

“Deal,” Orion breathed out a sigh of relief with the word.

“Oh, you’re too sweet. Don’t worry about me. I’m not made of sugar.” Gramma smiled at him and returned to her book.

Orion shook his head as he twist-tied shut the last bag of potatoes and set it in the crate. “No wandering around, now,” he warned. “Do you have something to drink?”

“Lord, you’re spoiling a girl,” Gramma laughed. “I’ve got enough iced tea to get me through the apocalypse itself. Go on. Shoo!”

Orion laughed and saluted, then hefted the crate and ducked out of the canopy. He shook his head as he strode up the narrow path to the road.

Fuck it, he was a little excited to talk to Gabriel again.

He’d seen him briefly last night when Gabriel dropped off the cash box and unsold produce, but the process was a well-oiled machine he hadn’t dared interfere with, even to try to help.

It was just nice to see someone he recognized—even if they hadn’t hung out much back then. That had been his fault, probably. He hadn’t been unfriendly to anyone, but he’d never made the effort to reach out and befriend Gabriel.

Gabriel had always come across as a bit of a wild animal, skirting corners and walking quickly in open spaces. He didn’t seem quite at home in the classroom. Orion had thought of him as shy, but from what Gramma said, he was the best salesman she’d seen since the car dealers with oily hair and good, solid suits who had sold her her first pickup truck in the sixties.

He couldn’t resolve that contrast between shy and charismatic in his head yet. Clearly, for all his perceptiveness, he’d missed some layer to Gabriel the first time around.

Probably the same layer that had given Gabriel the guts to ask him out—however straight everyone knew he was—in high school. He’d been flattered as hell, if confused. He’d kindly turned Gabriel down, and hardly saw him again until graduation.

Poor guy must still remember it, too, with how awkward he’d been. Orion was determined to be nice to him and show that not everyone was afraid of being mistakenly hit on.

As he rounded the corner of the tent, he immediately noticed that the table was set up a little differently today. Where he’d arranged pots of herbs at one end, they were at the other end today. The staples—onions, potatoes, carrots—were still solidly in the center of the table, but everything else had moved around a little.

“Morning,” Orion greeted.

Gabriel stayed seated today, flipping his sketchbook shut again the moment he saw Orion. “Hey! How’s it going?”

Orion was hit once again with the realization that Gabe was damn pretty for a guy. Chiseled jawline, perfectly-shaped haircut with blond tips that didn’t look fake or too nineties, and bright brown eyes. Handsome as hell. Scrubbed up and put in a good suit, he wouldn’t look out of place at many of the black-tie, swishy events Orion typically worked.

“Not bad,” Orion answered, trying to be casual as he grinned back. “Gramma lectured me on keeping you stocked for the lunch rush. Do you really move that many potatoes?”

“Oh, yeah. Fred has a standing bulk order. Only the best for Rocket hash browns.” Gabriel grinned at him and gestured under the table. “Just stash them there. I’ll sort them out and bag them.”

“Already bagged up for you.” Orion tried not to sound like he was bragging about doing a little work to make Gabriel’s life easier.

Gabriel looked startled. “Oh. Thanks, man.”

When gravel crunched, Gabriel’s expression became wary. He glanced at his wristwatch and sighed. “He’s early today.”

“You recognize—”

“His engine. He really needs to get that checked out.” Gabriel shook his head as he gave a cool roll of his eyes.

He didn’t look bothered by the guy, but that was twice in two days Chad had showed up… that he knew of. Was he coming by when Orion wasn’t around, a few times a day? Was this a stalking situation? Red flags made Orion’s work brain switch on.

“Oh. You’re back.” Chad didn’t sound pleased to see Orion standing behind the table. “Got yourself a new job?”

“He’s not hiring,” Gabriel interjected and waved a hand. “If you’re even looking for one these days.”

Chad’s expression was blank. Orion could easily detect the kind of veiled anger of a guy trying to keep his cool with someone else around. “Ha ha. Very funny. Like unemployment is a joke.”

“There’s jobs around here.” Gabriel’s tone was neutral as he opened his sketchbook. “For those who want them.”

“Right. That’s why you wanna get out of here so bad, because your job’s so great.” Chad wandered back and forth in front of the produce table, looking without looking at the vegetables.

For now, Orion took a pleasant tone. No need to escalate the situation yet. “Can I sell you anything?”

Chad paused and looked at him as if he’d forgotten he were there. “Oh. No. I didn’t claw my way to the top of the food chain to eat rabbit food, you know,” he snorted.

“You personally fought your way up?” Orion grinned, resisting the urge to add, That explains a lot. However tempted he was to crack them, ape jokes were not going to improve matters here. “Bet you’re glad to be out of the ocean. It’s an amoeba-eat-amoeba world.”

Chad waved a hand, clearly ignoring him now. “Sure.” He glared at Gabriel again, then scratched the back of his head. “Whatever. I got time.”

“You’ve got all day, if you’ve got no job,” Orion said, bristling at the tone. “Not something you wanna advertise to prospective mates.” It sounded like Chad wanted to stroll back into Gabe’s life by wearing him down. What a healthy relationship model.

“Mate,” Chad repeated, his expression growing ugly, “keep your nose out of it.”

He couldn’t resist. “That would sound a lot more intimidating in RP.” When Chad’s eyebrows bunched together, Orion sighed and added, “Received Pronunciation. Queen’s English. Standard British accent.”

Finally, Chad got it and snorted. “Oh, look who thinks he’s smart, strolling back into town with his worldly attitude. Well, guess what? You’re no better than anyone else here just ’cause you’re on that side of the table.”

“And you’ve still gotta give respect to get it,” Orion told him. “So, respectfully… bugger off.”

Chad looked like he was considering Orion’s size for a few moments before he backed down with a scoff and sneer. He headed for his truck without another word.

“Well, that was unnecessary but very appreciated.” Gabriel’s voice was light, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that made Orion look quickly at him.

There was a hint of fear in Gabriel’s expression.

“Is that asshole bothering you?” Orion sank to a crouch next to Gabriel’s chair.

Gabriel sat up straight, almost flinging his pencil aside accidentally. “What? No. I mean—” He got a better hold on everything in his lap and locked his hands together. “No. He’s not, like, stalking me. It’s fine.”

Orion raised his eyebrows.

“It’s just that he comes by sometimes, and that’s not—I mean, he can’t let go. It happens to everyone sometimes.”

“The more you talk, the deeper a hole you dig,” Orion told him, patting his arm and rising to his feet. “I won’t smother you, but if you ever need anything, I’m giving you my number. Give me your phone.”

Gabriel gazed at him for a few moments, then slid his phone out of his pocket and handed it over. His gaze turned away to the table, and his cheeks flushed with—probably embarrassment. Guys got weird about feeling like they needed protection. It was almost shameful to some of them. Orion had specifically learned to get around those defensive “I don’t need help” attitudes in his line of work.

“Thanks,” Gabriel murmured when he handed the phone back.

Their hands brushed and—goddamn, there was another spark of something there. A pull to get to know him more, to make sure he was safe.

Orion nodded. “Of course.” He raised his hand in a quick wave, checking down the road to make sure that asshole was well and truly gone before he left Gabriel be.

“You can start with another box of lettuce heads after lunch,” Gabriel called after him. When Orion looked at him, shielding his eyes against the sun, Gabriel gave him a cheeky smile.

Orion didn’t miss the extra glint of moisture in his eyes, or the way Gabriel shielded his eyes too, against the sun that was at his own back. He just smiled back. “You betcha.”

He could easily find excuses to sneak up again, later, and make sure the guy wasn’t hanging around. It was just doing the right thing to look out for Gabriel. After all, he’d helped out Orion’s family, especially Cora. It was just… giving him a hand back.

That was how a town was supposed to work, and goddamn, Orion had missed it.