“I’m sorry she’s struggling,” Angi said.

Gabe shook his head, his gaze shuttering. “I don’t want to talk about my grandmother.”

“Okay, but if you ever need—”

“I don’t.”

She took a step back, the ferocity of his tone whip-sharp.

“Thanks for the sandwich,” he said, his voice gentler. “Normally, I forget to pack anything and end up with popcorn from the hardware store.”

“We’re two doors down,” she reminded him. “Lunch is served every day.”

“I doubt you want me there.”

She didn’t contradict him, even though at the moment she couldn’t decide what she wanted from Gabe Carlyle. “Really, though. Why do you think Andrew keeps coming over here?” She ran a finger along a polished wood shelf that held an assortment of colorful vases. Had the display been one of her son’s ideas? “Is he that bored at the restaurant? Should I force him into an after-school program?”

“And give the little jerks at his school another opportunity to kick his ass? I don’t think so.”

Angi felt her mouth drop open. Blood roared into her head and her heart ached. “No. We took care of the bullying. His teachers are watching out for him, and he said it’s fine. He’s fine.”

“Sweetheart, take it from someone who was just like Andrew as a kid. That boy is anything but fine.”

CHAPTER FIVE

GABE WISHED HE’D kept his damn mouth shut as he watched emotions play across Angi’s striking features. He didn’t want to feel sorry for her. He didn’t want to feel anything.

He closed his fist more tightly around the take-out bag because damn if he didn’t have the urge to reach out and comfort her.

The woman was clearly holding it together by a frayed string of composure.

“You’re wrong,” she said, but there was no conviction in the words. “I’d know.”

“My mom didn’t know half of what I went through.”

She gave him a pointed look, and he remembered that he’d once shared with her the struggles his mom had to be a decent parent. A decent human most of the time.

“You’re not like her. I’m not suggesting that.”

“But you are suggesting that my son is being bullied, and I’m clueless.”

“He’s good at hiding his issues.” He placed the bag of food on the counter. “He doesn’t want to worry you.”

“My job is to worry,” she practically shouted, and then ran a hand through her long hair, held back by an elastic band. She turned toward the window as she pulled it out and thick locks of hair fell over her shoulders. Gabe caught a faint whiff of citrus and tried to ignore his body’s reaction.

He understood she was buying time so she could collect herself, and he at least wanted to honor that. He was grateful for it. The last thing he needed was a mommy breakdown in the middle of the store.

“It’s the reason he sought me out,” he explained as she looped her hair through the elastic again. “He heard about my military career and that I wasn’t always a big guy. He’s trying to convince me to teach him self-defense moves.”