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wanted to deal with. The first? Definitely Sean Cooper. Sean was a complete asshole, even if he was an inadvertent one, and he was going to change his mind. Gabriel was going to make sure of it.

“Ash was trying to be welcoming and nice,” Tony said. “You know, after someone marched over to Sean’s truck and tried to intimidate him when he said he wouldn’t.”

Gabriel refused to feel guilty. “You’re just disappointed you weren’t present for said intimidation.”

“It’s alright,” Tony said. “Maureen, who runs the fish and chips truck? She was parked right next door and heard everything.”

Gabriel grimaced. “Of course she did.”

“Hey, if you’re going to be weirdly threatening just because the guy’s got the same name as yours, you’re gonna have to expect everyone to be talking about it.”

“I wasn’t . . .” Okay, he might have been. But who could blame him?

“Listen,” Tony interrupted him. “You’re the more established guy on the circuit. You had a lot of success last year. You put a lot of time and effort and money into rebranding. Maybe if he was also selling Italian sandwiches, make a big deal out of this, but now? You gotta let it go.”

There was no way Gabriel was letting it go.

“I just wanted to say that,” Tony said, before shoving his hands in his pockets and wandering off.

Gabriel had five minutes alone with his sauce, before Ren showed up.

Ren was, to put it mildly, a complete pain in Gabriel’s ass.

He was still not over the fact that along with the investment his family had made in the food truck, they’d also decided that if Gabriel was going to strike out on his own, he might as well take the most annoying member of the family with him.

Lorenzo Moretti—or Ren, as his family and friends called him—sauntered in, an innocent smile on his face that didn’t fool Gabriel for a hot second. In his experience, Ren was a complete and total brat, and wouldn’t know innocence if it came up and bit him.

“I saw your friend outside,” Ren said, leaning against the back counter.

Gabriel was not stupid enough to think that Ren meant Tony. Especially because if he’d been referring to Tony, he’d have said something like, your really hot friend who I’d love to hook up with. When they’d started the season, Gabriel had thought that was the most difficult situation he’d have to deal with: Ren and his endless crush on Tony.

“Your blond friend,” Ren added slyly. “He looked like he missed you.”

“Like a hole in the head, probably,” Gabriel muttered. “I didn’t realize he was going to be here today. He wasn’t on the list they released a month ago.”

“New and exciting truck? Yeah, I’m sure they added him after,” Ren said, opening the tiny closet in the front of the truck and pulling out his navy blue apron, emblazoned with the new logo that Gabriel had spent so many hours laboring over.

Gabriel made a face.

“He might be new, but he’s not exciting,” Gabriel insisted.

Ren shot him a pitying look. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I am,” Gabriel said. “And I’m also going to figure out a way to convince him to change the name of his truck. We can’t both be On a Roll. What if someone has a hankering for a really good meatball sub, and then they accidentally head to his truck and end up with a mouthful of weeds? That’s a problem.”

“It’s not just weeds,” Ren sniffed.

“Oh, so you’re an expert on his menu now, huh?” Gabriel asked. Of course Ren had tried the competition. He’d sampled the food—and flirted—with nearly every truck owner they’d ever run into. At least all the queer male ones.

“He’s cute,” Ren said. “Maybe not as cute as Tony, but he’d do in a pinch.”

“I didn’t think blonds were your type,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes.

“They’re not, but he gets under your skin, so I’d be happy to make an exception.”

“Ugh,” Gabriel complained. “You suck.”

“Yes, yes, I do, and really well too,” Ren teased.

“Ew.”

“So that’s a no, you don’t want me to hook up with the cute copycat and use my extensive persuasive powers to convince him to change his name?” Ren raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d jump at that chance.”

“No, you didn’t,” Gabriel said. The only thing that would be worse than Sean existing, would be Sean hooking up with his cousin.

“Okay,” Ren said, laughing. “Fair enough.”

“What I need you to do is get the caprese stuff prepped, and the veggies prepped. I’m going to make meatballs in a few.”

“Veg is already done,” Ren said. “I finished it already.”

The only other reason why Gabriel continually resisted his urge to fire Ren—other than a fierce need to avoid his elder brother—was that Ren, when he put his mind to it, was actually fairly efficient.

He did spend more time flirting than taking orders, sometimes, but he was good with prep. Quick and kept his head down. Most of the time, anyway.

“Oh good,” Gabriel said. He turned off the burner under the sauce.

“You’re leaving?” Ren raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were making meatballs.”

“I am. I’m . . . I have something I need to do first.”

“Go badger the poor copycat?”

“No,” Gabriel insisted. Yes.

“Alright, then. Have fun,” Ren said with a smirk.

It was not fun, Gabriel thought as he walked across the field to where the bright white and red logo of Sean’s truck was calling him like a beacon. It was a necessary action, born of frustration and annoyance.

He was definitely not looking forward to seeing Sean again.

No way.

Sean was outside his little truck this time, setting out plasticware and cleaning off the stainless steel counter under the window. He was slim, but his hips curved under his jean shorts, and that annoyingly jaunty white apron, which Gabriel hadn’t gotten quite a full look at, was tied precisely around his waist.

The logo was annoyingly right there, right in the center of his chest. Gabriel found he couldn’t quite look away.

“Oh,” Sean said, after glancing

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