Page 12 of The Arrangement

He took a deep breath that fully expanded his chest, highlighting that while he was on the trimmer side, he was still fit if the muscles straining against his t-shirt were any guide. “So the mattress is the problem,” he said, gaze still angled toward the counter and gesticulating with one hand.

“Mmhmm,” I hummed as I rubbed my thumb along the base of his skull. The soft hairs tickled the pad of my thumb while the warmth of him suffused my hand.Fuuuuck. I should not have touched him, should never have seen him physically react to me, should never have even known hewouldreact. Christ, this was going to be the summer from hell. And now I’d left my hand there too long, basically feeling him up under the guise of comfort while trying to talk my body down from doing more, and had to figure out how to remove it without things getting weird. Assuming they weren’t already, and, per usual, I’d be the last to know.

Suddenly, he straightened, smacking the counter with both hands, damn near scaring the life out of me, and I dropped my hand. I already missed touching him. No surprise there. It wasn’t that I was touch-starved or anything. Okay, maybe I was the teensiest bit touch-starved. But it wasn’t exactly easy when you were naturally a physically affectionate person and the only types of affectionate touch your job condoned were "encouraging" smacks and “bro-hugs”. To this day, I still don’t know why I thought the Army would be any different or open-minded than fucking Ulwich Prep. Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“Uh, JD? Did you hear me?”

I gave myself a good shake and blinked a few times before meeting Marc’s gaze. “Sorry about that. My mind went on holiday and didn’t bother to take me with it.”

He cracked a smile, eliminating the pinch of worry I hadn’t picked up on thanks to my runaway brain. “I was saying Mattress Today should still be open. We could probably pick something up tonight if we find something you like in stock. Worst case, we order it and it’s a couple of days.” It was obvious he wasn’t keen on the second possibility, but at least he was content with the overall solution.

“Sounds like a plan.” I smacked his ass because I really couldn’t help myself–like have youseenthis man’s ass? Then waltzed out the back to where he’d parked his car, listening to him mutter behind me.

Ten minutes later, which according to Marc should have been five, but “fuck all of this traffic and where the hell had it come from?”, we were parked in a vacant lot in front of a very sad—veryclosed—Mattress Today. I didn’t need Marc to say he was unhappy or even see it on his face. His displeasure grew, filling the car until it felt like it was pressing against the windows while he stared absolute daggers at the small, faded sign in the window that read: PERMANENTLY CLOSED.

To make matters worse, I had absolutely no idea how to fix it. I’d already subtly tried to search for other mattress stores nearby, but the next closest had closed two hours before, and the other was far enough that it’d be closed by the time we got there. I, for one, valued my life and chose not to disclose this information, which I was positive Marc was already well aware of.

The leather of the steering wheel creaked as he tightened his grip, and I realized he was doing box breathing. It was a common enough technique for anxiety, among other things. Hell, I’d used it a fair share of times myself. It was effective. I desperatelywanted to support him, to be there for him, but the sheer press of his anxiety was starting to make me claustrophobic. If I didn’t get out of the car soon, I was going to lose my fucking mind.

“I’m gonna stretch my legs for a few minutes,” I said, pushing open the door. When the most he responded was a slight nod, I opted to text him as well. In hindsight, probably should have done that before I’d shown up at his place unannounced. Though in my defence, I didn’tknowit’d be unannounced.

It didn’t take long for the tension in my body to ease once I had fresh air filling my lungs. Considering my reservations about being in the Deep South for any extended period, Fairhope was kinda nice. There were already plenty of places I wanted to explore that had nothing to do with Marc or Marc’s body. I chuckled to myself and shook my head as I meandered my way back to the car. Jesus, I really couldn’t help myself, could I? Was I this bad with other men or women I’d lusted after over the years?

Before I could reach any sort of conclusion, I spotted the man of my confusion. He’d also vacated the car, and it wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if it was for similar reasons, and was leaning against the driver’s side door. He glanced up as I came closer, and my heart broke at how defeated he looked. This guy needed a fucking break, or at least a damn hug.

He opened his mouth, and I immediately held up my hand. “Please do not apologize. None of this is on you. It sucks how things change, but that’s the military for you. What do you say we let this day end already and get some food?” He brightened slightly, and I took the win for what it was. “I think I spotted a Domino’s on the way here. We could grab a pizza and some beer. Take ‘em back to the shop.” I hiked my thumb in what I was pretty sure was the right direction. Marc scrunched his nose and I swear to fucking God it was so adorable I almost squeed a little.

“I’m all for dinner,” he said, opening the car door, “but if we’re getting pizza, it’s going to begoodpizza. Get in, loser, we’re going to Ravenite, which I know for a fuckingfactis still open.” He gave me a wide grin as I slid into the passenger seat, which I happily returned.

Chapter 9

Marc

Iwas lying on my bed, doing a damn fine impersonation of a starfish if I said so myself, and staring up at the ceiling fan, wondering how everything could have gone so wrong so fast. Not only had I lost the battle of the sofa, I’d bungled the surrender. I slammed a pillow over my face and yelled. So naturally, I didn’t hear the soft knock on the door.

“You ready to get to work?” JD’s light baritone rolled through the air, popping goosebumps on my arms and scaring the ever-loving fuck out of me.

I emitted a mortifying squeak, simultaneously bolting upright and clutching the pillow to my bare chest in what probably looked like an archaic display of modesty. To his credit, JD at leasttriedto hide his laugh, but it was hard to ignore the humor dancing in his bright eyes.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” I grumbled.

“Sure thing. Coffee’s on the counter.”

I waited for him to shut the door and groaned into the pillow. What would it take for me to stop embarrassing myself in front of this paragon of masculinity? Still grumbling to myself, I got dressed for another day of hard work in the shop. As promised, a fresh cup of coffee sat on the counter, steam curling enticingly above it. I took a sip and promptly moaned at the caffeinated perfection. God, I needed that. I also needed my lists. Now, if I could just figure out where I left them.

I was on the verge of asking JD, who was sitting on the couch enjoying his coffee, which was no doubt sweetened within an inch of its life, when my phone rang. One look at the caller ID had a smile stretching across my face.

“Hey Aunt Pentunia. How was poker?”

“Don’t even get me started. That damn Martha is up to her tricks again. LikeIdon’t know how to play Texas Hold ‘Em. I’m the one who taught her bony ass!” Aunt Petunia griped spiritedly. “And, I might add, I have to constantly remind her of the rules. That cheatin’ cow couldn’t find her way out of a wet paper bag with a map and a flashlight.”

God, I loved this woman. Once I had solid control over my snickering–and JD was looking at me over the sofa like I’d gone and lost the last of my marbles–I said, “I’m sorry the night didn’t go the way you wanted.”

“I didn’t say that. Did I say that? Hush now. Don’t be puttin’ words in my mouth. At any rate, I just called to say I’m all by my lonesome and wanted to know when I could look forward to seeing my great-nephew.”

“Let me guess. Ms. Judy?”

“Barbra Jean, actually. And youknowhow insufferable that woman is when she thinks she knows something before you do.” Hand to God, I couldhearAunt Petunia roll her eyes.