Page 56 of The Arrangement

I raised my eyebrows and leaned over him, intentionally not pushing so much as another centimeter deeper. “And what did I say about you using country phrases?”

“You don’t have a monopoly on Southern–” His words dried up and his eyelids fluttered shut as I thrust the rest of the way into his tight heat. Finally, he mumbled incoherently, grabbing at me.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” I teased, giving the shallowest thrust possible.

He made a strangled sound. “Move. I need you to move.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” I said again, snatching another kiss before rocking back on my heels once more. I pulled nearly all the way out and slammed back home. It only took a few times until I was dizzy with the need to come, and by the way JD was clawing at the sheets, me, whatever he could hook his fingers into, he was right there with me.

“Fuck, baby boy. You feel so goddamn good,” he moaned, finally reaching for his cock.

“Uh-huh.” I gripped his legs, pushing them toward his chest, sliding a little deeper and changing my angle just enough to cause JD to start shouting obscenities again. I gripped the pale, freckle-speckled muscle and thrust into him with all I was worth. “Jesus, these fucking thighs.”

His hand sped up, and then he was coming with a shout they probably heard two counties over. His ass became a vice I didn’t ever want to leave as I pushed through the tight muscle again, once, twice, three more times until my release overwhelmed me. The sculpted muscles of his thighs were still twitching as I gently lowered his legs to the bed and pulled out, holding the condom in place. By the time we finished cleaning up and collapsed back onto the bed, the sleep that had eluded me before was waiting to drag me under and I now had two things to look forward to in the morning: the flower shop opening and waking up in JD’s arms.

Chapter 28

James

Maybe having sex with Marc had been a bad idea. No way was once ever going to be enough, and I didn’t even care if I was the one who always bottomed. Though I’d be shocked as hell if Marc’s curiosity didn’t get the better of him with that too. No, the problem had nothing to do with how absolutely incredible the sex was and everything to do with how in love with him I was. It shouldn’tbepossible to be even more in love with him, but here I was.

Did he even know what he was doing to me? Sure, the trinkets that kept turning up around the apartment and shop were probably kitschy nonsense to most people, but they weren’t to me. And, yeah, the coffee cup was practical. It was also thoughtful. Then there was the buttercup I’d pressed in one of his books what felt like a lifetime ago. He must have found it, because when I went to look at it later, it had a note saying next time I wanted to preserve a flower to just say so.

Not finding the peace I needed upstairs, I snuck down to the shop with the intention of going for a walk, maybe watching the sunrise. That’s when I saw the remarkable tulip and buttercup arrangement he’d made the day before. It wasn’t in the display fridge like it had been. Now, it was in the walk-in fridge, looking for all the world like a display piece for a grand event. It also now boasted the Army ribbon I’d been too hurt and stubborn to add then. Somehow Marc had woven it into my existing bow so it looked like it had always been there. In a word, it was stunning.

I took a picture and saved it, even though I knew it’d break my heart every time I looked at it. Then I texted my brother. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised that he was awake before dawn.

“What’s wrong?” Andy asked before I could get a word out.

“Good morning to you too,” I replied grumpily.

He scoffed. “It’s too soon to judge the merits of whether it’s good. Answer the question.”

“Still as bossy as ever.”

He sighed. “Hold on.” There was the sound of movement, what might have been liquid pouring, more movement, and quiet. “Okay. Sorry. I don’t sleep well when Mitch isn’t here. It’s ridiculous, but there it is.”

“So… mainlining coffee?” I teased.

“Tea, actually.” He laughed softly. “I’ve been told I have ‘a problem’.”

“Know the feeling.”

“So, what’s up? I doubt you called to discuss our caffeine-drinking issues. Or I guess you could have, in which case I’ll follow your lead.”

It was tempting as hell to fall back on old habits of teasing him, but he was working hard not to be an asshole and frankly I needed to talk to someone. I let out a heavy sigh. “No, you’reright, something’s up. I… I had sex with Marc. Sorry if that’s TMI, but it’s kind of the crux of my issues at the moment.”

“Kind ofalready figured that was a thing. And it’s only TMI if you called just to give me the deets on how you two did the horizontal tango, unless, of course, it was vertical, or not a tango at all, or—”

“Oh my God, please stop talking.” I ran a hand over my face, not sure if I wanted to laugh or cry hysterically. “How are we related? Horizontal tango, Andy? Really?”

His light laughter at the other end was unexpected. “You know, I used to ask myself that all the time. Now I wonder how I ever used to doubt it.”

I sat back in the folding chair, finally tearing my gaze away from Marc’s arrangement. “How so?”

He sighed and I could clearly hear him getting more comfortable, much like I had. “Well, as I’m sure you surmised, Mitch and I have been seeing a therapist, independently and together.” I considered responding, but it seemed more rhetorical than an actual question. “Which is a weird segue into how I realize now just how much you and I are alike.”

“Okay…”