“Don’t tell me she’s dating someone else,” Darius said.

“No. But I don’t think she’s looking, either. Besides, I told you I’m not planning on staying here.”

“And your grandmother is cool with moving?”

Dilemma number three. “Hardly. She shut me down cold.”

Brent and Darius shared a look, and Brent said, “So, you’re going to commute back and forth or something? And if so, it shouldn’t be a problem having a relationship with Serenity.”

Gabriel blew out a long breath. “I have no idea. But whatever I decide to do, I don’t want to get too deep with her—or anyone, for that matter.”

“It’s a little late for that, given the way you were looking at Serenity.”

He frowned at Brent and opened his mouth to say something, but the server returned with their meal. After the young man walked away, Gabriel said, “I wasn’t looking at her in any way.”

“Mm-hmm,” Darius said, filling his plate. “She’s gorgeous, and if she’s as nice as you say, you’re in big trouble, my brother.” He paused. “But I’m willing to bet you’ve already gotten yourself into a little trouble. She might be just the woman you need, so don’t overthink it or try to compare her to you-know-who.”

Yeah. Trouble. But he wouldn’t give Darius the satisfaction of admitting it. And Serenity could never be Christine. The woman had never offered to cook, and when he suggested they spend an evening in and make dinner together, she’d looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Her idea of “eating in” meant eating in a restaurant. The more expensive, the better. He added generous portions of food to his plate and changed the subject. After the three men had started their company, they’d decided whenever they hung out together, work topics would be off-limits. In the past, Gabriel had difficulties shutting down work mode. However, tonight, as they laughed and talked, deadlines and projects never crossed his mind.

“Okay, I have to admit, the food was off the chain,” Brent said after leaving the restaurant. “It tasted like somebody’s mama was in the kitchen.”

Gabriel nodded. “I said the same thing the first time I came. And since D considers himself an ice cream connoisseur, we have one more stop to make.” He gestured to the shop across the street.

“I am seriously going to hurt myself,” Darius muttered when they entered the ice cream parlor. “Homemade…like three dozen choices.”

Almost ten minutes later, Brent threw up his hands. “How long are you going to stand there staring at the menu? It hasn’t changed since we walked in the door. You’re worse than a five-year-old in a candy shop.”