As they continued to discuss specifics, Angi’s phone rang. Her features tightened. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s the school.”

She stepped away, and Gabe managed—just barely—not to follow. Stupid, he chided himself. Angi didn’t need him hovering like some unnecessary guardian angel, and he had no business worrying about her son.

But he had to admit the boy had wormed his way into Gabe’s heart. Every day without fail, he showed up at the flower shop and begged to learn something new. Gabe had finally broken down and hung a punching bag in the back room and put light weights there for the kid to work on his reflexes and coordination. Gabe knew from experience that being the weakest would only add to his social misery. Kids could be merciless.

“So you and Angi?” Avery asked with a raised brow as Alex and Dylan moved toward another room.

Gabe blinked and then realized what the other woman was talking about. “Yeah, um. It’s new. She’s amazing.”

Avery scrunched up her pert nose. “She definitely doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true.” Or at least Gabe didn’t understand why it was true.

“Sure it is. I don’t mind.” Avery shrugged. “I got used to people not liking me in my old life. Apparently, I’m an acquired taste. I’ll win her over. I’m a big fan of her mom’s chicken piccata.”

“Angi doesn’t exactly love being back at the restaurant full-time,” Gabe explained. “It makes her a little grumpy. The inn is her dream. I know it was your dad’s house, although I don’t have many memories of him from when I spent summers in Magnolia.”

“I didn’t even find out about Niall until after he was dead.” Avery smoothed a hand over her hair. “I beat you on the memories front, but I met my sisters thanks to him, so Niall’s memory and I are good at this point.”

Gabe chuckled. “Fair enough. Give Angi a break, though. She’s going through some stuff.”

“But she’s got you to support her.”

Gabe started to shake his head. He wasn’t in a place to be a support to anyone. “Yeah,” he said, after a moment. “She does.”

“Have you met my husband?” Avery asked, in a quick pivot of subject matter. “Gray Atwell? He’s a local firefighter.”

“I don’t think so.”

“He’s a good man. The best.” Her smile turned tender. “The best for me, even when I didn’t realize it.”

Gabe scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not much for subtleties or secret meaning. If there’s some message you want to give me, then—”

“I’ve got to go.” Angi came rushing back to them, agitation clear in her tone.

Dylan and Alex moved toward the group as well, clearly alerted by her voice that something was wrong.

“Is everything okay?” Avery took a step forward.

“It’s my son. Andrew. He—”

“What happened?” Gabe gripped her arm. “What happened to Andrew?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve got to go,” she repeated, looking stunned. “There was a fight and he’s... I don’t know. He hit his head on the concrete. Maybe a concussion.”