It was a slow Tuesday afternoon. The usual morning crowd had already left, and so had the folks who drove by at lunchtime to pick up that night’s supper.

Around two or three o’clock, he tended to have some downtime before the little rush of people in the evening. Gabriel listened to music through his Bluetooth speakers while he rearranged produce displays or took stock notes.

On really slow days, he brought his sketchpad and lost himself in imaginary gardens. Where most people had empty McDonald’s bags or water bottles strewn across the backseat, Gabriel had gardening books.

Gabriel was just working out how to add natural-stone terraces to the imaginary yard on his page when he heard footsteps. That in itself was unusual—few people worked or lived around here, so everyone drove up to get their fresh produce.

The only people who walked here were a couple neighbors, or the farm owners. Particularly Cora, matriarch of the Miele family and one of the town’s outspoken residents. She had run this stand alongside him until her accident last month.

Even now, she hobbled up here to make sure he kept the roadside dust polished off the apples. He scrambled to his feet and around the corner of the tent to help her the rest of the way, as much as she might complain about it, and then stopped.

It wasn’t Cora at all.

It was Orion Miele, Cora’s grandson. Ryan, most people called him, but Cora always called him Orion and it had stuck in Gabriel’s mind. He hadn’t seen Orion in… God. Since the day of their high school graduation, wasn’t it?

And even before that, he’d barely seen him for the last four months of their schooling days. Not since… well. His cheeks flushed all over again.

God fucking damn it. Why did straight men have to be so hot?

Orion stumbled to a halt when he saw Gabriel, too. His mouth dropped for a moment, and Gabriel’s mind helpfully went down the dirtiest possible path.

Those lips would look great…

Oh, Jesus. He was not going to do that. He’d been crushed by Orion’s rejection—polite but firm—once before. Twice might actually kill him.

Gabriel realized neither of them had said a word in a few seconds.

“I didn’t know—”

The same words, like an echo but simultaneous, spilled from Orion’s lips, in the same stunned tone.

He remembers me. Goddamn it, get over yourself. Of course he remembers me. The scrawny little geek who asked Ryan Miele out, even though he dated half the girls in our class. Like I ever had a chance.

They both rushed to speak at once, their words lost in each other’s. Their eyes were locked, as if some force wouldn’t let Gabriel look away. He was transfixed.

“No, no. You go ahead.” Orion’s voice was a little deeper now, calm and authoritative.

Oh, fuck. That did things to him.

His mouth suddenly dry, Gabriel cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“No. I just got here.” Orion smiled and moved toward the displays of vegetables, and the momentary trance was broken.

Gabriel let out a quick breath and moved to sit down, flipping his sketchbook shut and shoving it in his knapsack under the table. He still felt Orion’s presence, like the goddamn midday sun was shining in here. His reddened cheeks could be put down to sunburn, at least. “Oh, cool. To help out your family?”

“Gramma. She won’t rest for a minute, will she?”

“That she won’t. I tried, but she keeps springing around and lifting things before I can get there.” Gabriel tutted.

Orion gave him a slow, rich smile and his knees melted. Thank God he was sitting down. “Thanks for helping her out, man. I really appreciate it.” Before Gabriel could form words in response, he went on. “I’m back for a couple months. Taking a break from my day job and helping her recover, since—like you said—she won’t sit down. My family’s going crazy trying to keep her resting.”

“So you’re the errand runner,” Gabriel said and smiled. “That’s cool. I guess that’s a good reason to come back once you’ve escaped the Creek.”

“Family. What more reason do you need?”

Both of them were missing parents. He’d never brought it up—who would dare ask Ryan Miele what happened to his parents, anyway? Common rumor was that his parents had died on some safari, and that was enough for Gabriel to know. He didn’t want to stir anything up for Orion by asking. Meanwhile, Gabriel’s parents had died in a stupid road accident when he was too small to remember, his aunt and uncle had always told him.

At school assemblies and graduations, most of the other kids had had parents there. Orion had brought Cora—one of the few people in town who used his full name, not the easier nickname the kids liked. Gabriel had had his aunt and uncle.

I always thought we had so much in common, but… I guess not. He got out, after all. Got ripped. And I’m still stuck here… being me.

Orion’s gaze flickered back to him. “Nice displays.”

“Thanks,” Gabriel mumbled, his gaze dropping to the ground. But it didn’t stay there for long… he couldn’t resist the chance to sneak another look at the man who still turned him on with just a glance, all these years later.

Shut up. He’s probably married. Gabriel tried to lean subtly around the edge of the table and check, but there was no way of doing it without looking like he was sneaking a peek at his crotch. Come on. Touch something.

“Uh, how have things been?” he asked, quickly glancing back at Orion’s face. He was handsome, in a rugged kind of way. He always had looked tough but kind. A trustworthy face.

“Pretty good. I’m in Houston now, but I travel a lot for work.”

“What do you do?”

“Private security. Bodyguard, I guess.” Orion’s lips twitched into a smile. “I was about to ask what you do. Duh. I didn’t know Gramma hired you.”

“Sorry,” Gabriel mumbled and shrugged.

Orion blinked. “For what?”

“I’m not some pretty girl.” Oh. Shit. He really hadn’t meant it to come out that way. He’d meant in a teasing way, like were you hoping to find someone hotter than me, but suddenly the atmosphere was charged again.

Just like the moment he’d asked him out, all those years ago, and Orion had smiled kindly at him and said—

“No.”

“Huh?” Gabriel flushed. “I wasn’t—I mean, I remember what you said…”

“No, I mean… No. Don’t apologize for it being you. Or for complimenting me back then. I’m glad to see you again, man.” Orion opened his arms in a clear invitation.

Gabriel felt like it was a trap. He rose to his feet and came around the table for a hug. “No… hard feelings?”

“Of course not,” Orion promised, and wrapped his arms around Gabriel.

They both felt it. Even Orion couldn’t have missed it, with the quick inhalation Gabriel heard next to his ear.

A spark flashed between them as their bodies pressed together—solid, firm, warm. Good.

So fucking good I can’t think of a better word than good. It’s just… right.

The hug lingered a few seconds longer than it should have between a gay guy and a firmly straight-but-flattered-you-asked guy. And that was none of Gabriel’s doing—he tried to loosen his grip, but Orion held him tightly before his hands slowly slid away from Gabriel’s back and down to his sides again.

Gabriel’s head spun with vivid, dirty images by the time Orion let go. He could picture what it was like to be encircled by those arms, Orion’s lips on his own…

Orion’s pupils were wide, his lips suddenly wet and parted and all too close. They stood in each other’s personal space, breathing quick.

Gabriel glanced down. No ring.

Orion followed his gaze, then smiled slightly. “I’m single.”

“O-Oh,” Gabriel managed. He wasn’t going to ask again: And straight? Are you sure? He wasn’t that desperate. He wasn’t. Goddamn it, he was about to.

Tires crunched on gravel in the distance, and they sprang apart like teenagers caught making out behind the bandstands. Not that Gabriel had ever been that teenager. Orion? Rumor had it he hadn’t done much else in his senior year.

Orion was suddenly busy at the other end of the table, rearranging bunches of carrots, his back to the tent entrance.

By the time the truck came into view, Gabriel was settled on the chair again, his sketchbook firmly on his lap and both hands on it. Calm the fuck down and think unsexy thoughts.

It was Chad’s truck.

Yeah, that did the trick. The boner wilted as Gabriel groaned under his breath and folded his arms.

Apparently, a month wasn’t enough time for his ex to forget him, which would have been a compliment if Gabriel weren’t sure Chad was just lazy and looking for anyone he thought might be desperate.

“Hey,” Chad greeted in that smarmy, swaggering way. “How’s—oh.” He caught sight of Orion and stared for a moment. “Ryan?”

Orion turned, and then forced a quick smile. Even Gabriel could tell it was forced by the way it didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey. Chad, right? Long time no see.”

Chad kept his distance, his gaze flickering between the two of them. “Yeah. You back in town, man?”

“Only for a visit.” Orion waved at the produce stand. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“Oh. I’m not here about those eggplants.” Chad looked back at Gabriel.

Gabriel shook his head, trying to keep it subtle. Don’t you make me force the issue, asshole. “You better get going, then.”

Chad stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You sure?”

“Damn sure.”

Chad shook his head and heaved a sigh. He kicked at a lump of gravel wedged in the ground until it went flying down the road. “’Cause… you know… ain’t many better offers around here.”

“I know,” Gabriel said flatly. “I know how to reach you.”

“Good. Good…” Chad nodded, winking and clicking his tongue. He turned on his heel, nodded at Orion, and strode back to his truck.

Orion nodded back once and watched him climb back in his truck.

Only once he’d pulled away and the sound of tires had receded, fading into the distance, did Orion glance back at Gabriel. “So… are you?”

“Am I…” It took Gabriel a second to remember where they’d been. “Oh. Single. Hah.” He glared down the road towards town, the direction Chad had left. “Yeah. Have been for a month or more now.”

“He doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo.”

“He’s bad at taking cues,” Gabriel muttered. “Or memory. I don’t know which.”

“Both?” Orion suggested. “My memory of high school pop quizzes would suggest both.”

Gabriel cracked up. Chad had been a nuisance even then, hassling him to hook up throughout senior year and most of junior year, too. And off and on for years since then.

He hadn’t broken down and agreed to date the guy—though his definition of dating was pretty suspect—until earlier this year.

“It was a short thing,” he muttered, not looking at Orion. “You know. Small town. Not many options. Can’t wait to get out of here.”

“I dunno. I’m finding it kinda nice to be back,” Orion said, then hummed thoughtfully. “Grass is always greener. But the big city? Pfft. Gimme a place where people smile and ask you how’s your day.”

Gabriel shrugged. “My dating pool’s a lot smaller.”

“Mm.” Orion turned and tapped the table once, giving an approving nod. “Gramma will be happy. I better go make sure she’s not adding terrible movies to my Netflix list to ruin my recommendations.”

Gabriel snorted with laughter. “Knowing her? You’ll be getting emails for Killer Ferrets: Part Five for months.”

“I’m doomed,” Orion groaned, raising his hand in a casual wave. “See you, man.”

“Bye.”

Gabriel held his breath to listen to Orion walking back up the narrow path, skirting fields, greenhouses, and mud, toward the farmhouse where Cora lived.

And now, maybe, Orion.

Fuck. You can never escape your past here, can you?

But the way Orion had held him, just for a few seconds…

No. No getting your hopes up, he told himself, furiously flipping open his sketchbooks. And no dwelling in the past. You have a new life. Today, you’re thinking about terraces.

Definitely not the dimples that Orion had apparently never grown out of, or the way his shirt stretched around his biceps and across his chest now.

Gabriel huffed and shifted his sketchbook again, plucking the fabric of his jeans to hide his returning problem. It was no use. Even Chad hadn’t distracted him for long. He’d have to outwait this one and his own blue balls until he got home and into the tiny shower stall…

He picked up a pencil and scowled at the book like it had just insulted him. “Motherfucking terraces, Gabe.”