Page 13 of The Arrangement

“We certainly can’t have that.”

“No, we cannot. And I heard you had some company, some verystrappingcompany?” she asked, like she was taking up fishing.

I chuckled under my breath and allowed myself to look at JD from under my lashes. Strapping was definitely one way to put it. Not even the loose cotton tee could obscure the muscles defining his shoulders, which was all I could see of him now that he’d turned back around. But I already knew the rest of him more than met the criteria. I swallowed and cleared my throat, suddenly wondering if I needed to have the thermostat for the apartment checked. Wouldn’t hurt.

“Marc, dear, will you be bringing this strapping young lad with you so I can see the man helping my favorite great-nephew restore our beautiful flower shop?” Aunt Petunia crooned. She may be used to my thoughts wandering off after years of dealing with it, but that didn’t make me feel any better about not paying attention.

“I’ll be sure to ask.”

“See that you do, sweetie. I’ll have the sweet tea nice and cold by the time y’all get here.”

Still chuckling to myself, I ended the call and looked up to find JD looking at me once more. I smiled at his openly curious expression. “Change of plans. We’re going to see Aunt Petunia. Besides, we still need to resolve the whole mattress situation. You’re going to absolutely love her. Everyone does. Even Martha Elcott, who I swear has made it her life’s mission to irritate my great aunt to death. At any rate, Aunt Petunia’s a hoot and a half,” I rambled on as I fixed myself a to-go cup of coffee. It wasn’t until I was going to ask JD if he’d like one as well that I realized ‌he was standing beside the couch looking a little lost.

“Um, unless you’d rather not.” Aunt Petunia wouldn’t be too happy, but I wouldn’t force her presence on him if it made himuncomfortable. “You can stay here, or I could, uh, drop you off… somewhere?” I finished awkwardly.

“If you’re okay with me meeting your Great Aunt, I’d love to. She sounds like a riot.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Of course, I wanted him to meet Aunt Petunia, and not just because he was helping me fix up her shop. Fact was, next to Aunt Petunia and Alex, JD was probably the most significant person in my life. Wow, that was fuckingsad. My smile glitched, and I drop-kicked the pathetic thought back into the ether where it belonged. JD had saved my life. He wouldalwaysbe important for that reason alone.

“O-kay,” he dragged out. “Taking that as a yes, is what I’m wearing okay? I don’t want to offend your aunt.”

I barked a laugh. “She’s a tough old bird and damn near impossible to offend,” I said, but he seemed genuinely concerned, so I gave him a once-over now that I could see all of him. AndJesus, Mary, and Joseph. Might as well throw in the Wise Men while we were at it. No man had any right to look that good in a muscle shirt and loose athletic shorts.

Yeah, Aunt Petunia would be more than fine with the abundance of eye candy—I mean, skin on display. Me? I’d be distracted as hell. And I didnotneed to be thinking about the last time I saw that much of this man’s beautiful skin. I finally convinced my eyes to travel back to his face, not at all noticing the favors those shorts were doing for his thick as fuck thighs, and other obviously thick appendages. “Uh…”

He nodded as if I’d actually answered his question when I was really trying to convince myself that the heat suffusing my face was from being in the sun yesterday. He plopped his rucksack on the sofa. “Right. More of a casual day. Can always change again if we come back and end up working,” he said, pulling the bag open and promptly pulling off his tee.

I made a strangled sound as I was confronted once again with perfectly sculpted pectorals, abs that not even the copper hair on his torso could obscure, and a tapered waist that was making me feel some kinda way. “Good call,” I eked out and bolted back into my bedroom. If my voice had pitched a little higher than usual, well, at least he was too distracted to pick up on it. Clearly my hero worship problem was finding new ways to fuck with my head. Which was honestly the last thing I needed.

I filled our twenty-minute drive to The Brennity with chatter to hide my earlier awkwardness, which in hindsight, probably compounded it. Thankfully, JD was a good enough sport about it and kept up his end of my running commentary, asking questions and making noncommittal noises when appropriate. When we pulled into the retirement living community, he let out a low whistle.

“Damn, this place is next level.”

I flashed him a grin as I navigated the curving road lined with meticulous landscaping. “Yeah, this place is pretty great. It’s awesome that Aunt Petunia could get in when she did. I’ve heard the waitlist is no joke.”

We turned into the visitor’s parking lot so we could check in with the concierge, and JD sucked in a breath. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of azaleas. I mean, I figured they grew around these parts because I’ve seen them pretty much everywhere, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many in one place or in so many colors.”

I frowned as I put the car in park. “Wait, you have azaleas up north? How did I not know that?” I shook my head in disbelief, and we made our way into the welcome center. We’d checked in and we’re nearly to my aunt’s cottage when I pulled JD up short. “Maybe don’t mention to my aunt that I didn’t know the thingabout the azaleas? I’d rather not get called out on my flower game being weak after four years of service.”

“That big a deal, huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “You have no idea. I’m already regretting not brushing up on the Victorian Language of Flowers before coming here.”

“The what now?” JD asked, following me.

Rather than answer, I finished walking up to the door and knocked, squaring my shoulders every bit like I was preparing to go into battle… or get the ever-loving life squeezed out of me. Within moments, my brace-for-impact proved warranted as Aunt Petunia flung open the door and wrapped me in a rib-creaking hug. You wouldn’t think it possible of a wiry old woman in her seventies, who’d started shrinking from her five-seven–and was still bitter about it–but here we were and I was getting close to tapping out.

“Marc! It’s about time. Well, don’t just stand there. Come in, come in,” she said enthusiastically, ushering me inside. “You too.” She flung a glance toward JD before turning back inside and walking to the kitchen counter, where, sure enough, an iced pitcher of sweet tea was already sweating. She gave him an appraising once-over and smirked. “You must be the tall drink of water, Sergeant Gallagher, that Barbra Jean wouldnotshut up about. I can see why.” She darted a look toward me so fast I prayed he missed it. “Can I get you some sweet tea, hon?” she asked JD, already pouring him a glass.

“The sweeter the better, ma’am,” he replied with a wide grin as he accepted the full glass.

She raised an iron-grey eyebrow and replaced the pitcher on the counter. “Don’t worry, Marc, dear, the unsweetened stuff is in the fridge for you to doctor to your heart’s content.”

“Thank’s Aunt Petunia. You’re the best.” I placed a kiss on her soft, wrinkled cheek, then went about “mad-doctoring” my sweettea as Alex liked to say. Look, I was a Southern boy at heart, I was, but there were some Southern essentials I just couldn’t bring myself to love. Sadly, overly-sweetened tea and apple pie made that list. Though I did my damndest to keep the latter as quiet as humanly possible.

“Gallagher, why does that name sound so familiar?” she mused aloud as she sipped from her own glass, as shrewd as ever.

I froze mid-stirring my concoction and shot her a panicked look. She wouldn’t put me on the spot like this, would she? I knew she hadn’t been a fan of me enlisting, but I never dreamed she’d punish me for it by actively embarrassing me. That wasn’t her style. Or it hadn’t been before I’d left. I swallowed thickly and risked a glance at JD. I wasn’t sure what to make of his relaxed smile as he topped off his tea.