Page 63 of The Arrangement

He shrugged. “Little bit of luck and a lot a bit of help.” I raised an eyebrow at that, which he apparently took as a question. “You’ve taken me to so many amazing places, and I know how much you love seafood. I wanted to takeyousomewhere special for a change,” he finished sheepishly. It would always be a little disconcerting to see a man as self-assured as JD look nervous, but there was something incredibly endearing about it as well, especially when it seemed like maybe I was the reason he was nervous.

“Thank you, James.” His head jerked up, his smile shining brighter in his eyes than on his face, and I realized that was the first time I’d said his actual name in days. If I was being honest with myself, I missed it, missed him—touching him, laughing with him, kissing him. What did it matter if he broke my heart? I always knew that would be a possibility. It was a possibility for anyone. Why couldn’t I enjoy what we had while we had it?

“So, you like it?” he asked, a hint of insecurity underscoring the question that made me melt faster than ice cream in July.

I smiled at him and traced my fingers along the back of his hand where he’d left it resting on the table. “I really like it. Think the food will live up to the ambiance?” I asked teasingly.

“It damn well better,” he replied with a chuckle. “And even if it’s only passing, I hope you still have a good time.” He flipped his hand over and grabbed mine before I could react. “You have worked so incredibly hard to bring the flower shop back to life. You deserve something special just for you.”

Oh, oh, I needed him to stop looking at me like that right the fuck now, or we weren’t even going to make it through dinner, let alone ordering. I tried to remind my lungs how to breathe as I got lost in James’ coastal blue eyes, which were probably the exact same blue as the water outside would be during the day. God, I didn’t want him to leave. I wanted to beg him to stay, even if it meant making a fool of myself.

“Good evening, gentlemen, what can I start you off with? We have a lovely dry Riesling as well as a crisp Pinot Grigio that pairs quite nicely with our catch of the day,” the waiter said in a professionally amiable voice.

I glanced at James, and he shrugged. “What’s your favorite?” I asked.

He gave me a wry smile. “It’s not as flashy, but I’m partial to the Viognier we’ve recently begun carrying. It’s surprisingly floral.”

I shot JD a quick glare at his failed, stifled laugh. Just for that. “We’ll take the Viognier.”

“The bottle, if you please,” JD added before he could go.

“Excellent, sir. I’ll return shortly with your waters and wine.”

I raised an eyebrow at my thirsty companion as I released his hand to situate my napkin in my lap and begin perusing the menu. “The bottle, huh?”

“What? We’re celebrating. The shop is officially open, you already have a steady stream of business, and a meeting with those charity ladies.”

I chuckled at the surrealness of it all. “I do, don’t I? It barely feels real.” I glanced at JD from under my lashes. A lot morethan the shop didn’t feel real. “What would you say to wandering along the pier after dinner? Assuming the rain has let up?” The musical pings that had followed us inside had increased to a dull roar reminiscent of waves crashing. But as everyone liked to say ‘round here: if you didn’t like the weather, just wait ten minutes.

This time his smile filled his face. “Oh good. I was trying to figure out how to suggest that without you teasing me about wanting to drown or something.”

“Nah,” I waved a dismissive hand, then angled my thumb back toward the impressive lifesize painting I’d been appreciating. “If I were going to tease you, it’d be more like, ‘Even the gators are giant around these parts, so don’t think your giant status will save you.’” His laughter warmed me to my toes.

“Noted.” We paused as the waiter returned with our drinks, had us taste the wine—because this place wasthatkind of fancy—before pouring, took our orders, then left us to our own devices once more. JD held up his wineglass, and I mirrored him. “Here’s to the grand reopening of the flower shop andnotbeing gator bait,” he added with a smirk.

“To not being gator bait,” I echoed.

After our incredible meal, I was flying high on good food, amazing wine, and even better company. To top it all off, the rain had let up a solid twenty minutes before we’d finished. As we meandered our way toward the pier, I kept bumping into JD. I wasn’t even sure if it was intentional or not, but he didn’t seem to mind; if anything, he encouraged me.

Hollow thuds reverberated over the still water as we transitioned from the gravel path to the wooden pier lined with twinkle lights. It clearly had once been a functional pier—I could easily make out the grooves on the shore from where boats would launch and where countless ties had etched their memory into the pylons. Now, however, it felt like a gateway into a dream. Sounds of the swamp that those unfamiliar with wouldview as discordant came together in a unique melody of nature. Crickets filled the night, with bullfrogs providing a backdrop of bass. The occasional bird trilled or whooped. It was so… peaceful. Fuck, I’d missed this.

“Have you thought anymore about what you’d like to name the shop,” JD asked as we approached the far railing at the end of the pier, his deep voice blending seamlessly with the evening orchestra.

I sighed and rested my arms on the rail as I looked out over the dark, quiet water. “No?” At JD’s light touch on my waist, I angled my head to look at him.

“Can I ask why not?”

I turned around so my back was to the railing and I could face him more easily. If it just so happened to result in his hand skimming over my lower abdomen… whoops. “You can ask. Not sure I have an answer, though.”

His hand slid along my body to resettle on my waist again. This time his other hand joined on my other side as he moved to stand in front of me. He gave me a firm squeeze. “You don’t have to change the name if you don’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with honoring your aunt’s legacy.”

“I know that,” I admitted, swallowing thickly as I ran my hands over his absurdly muscular forearms to his equally ridiculous biceps. “Maybe I fibbed a little before. I have thought about ita lot. I just don’t know what the hell I would call it. And…” My hands stilled as I searched for the right words.

“And what, baby boy?” James asked in that low voice that inevitably made me forget how to think. His hands sliding the rest of the way around me to fully encircle my waist weren’t helping matters either.

“I feel so stupid not thinking about it before. It’s not like this hasn’t been my goal for forever, or that I haven’t been thinking about it virtually non-stop since I went into the damn Army,” Ihuffed irritably. When he didn’t respond, I took my life in my hands and looked up at him, bracing for the censure I expected to find. Only it wasn’t there.

James smiled at me in that soft way that made my heart flutter like petals in the breeze, and I was a little grateful for his arms around me because it would have been mortifying as hell to basically swoon on the pier. “You’re not stupid, Marc. You put your energy into all the practical aspects of getting the shop in running order. Makes sense if you think about it,” he added, leaning down.