Page 79 of The Arrangement

He spun around wide-eyed, glancing behind me, no doubt looking for Marc. “Where’s—”

“Not here, and I’d like to know whyyouare.” I crossed my arms over my chest, fully aware that it made me look intimidating as fuck combined with the full-force glower I aimed at him. “I’ve endured enough bigotry from your asshole family for one day.”

To my surprise, he winced. “Yeah, I, uh, heard about that. It’s actually why I’m here.” He put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. I arched an eyebrow, but before I could say anything, five people, all wearing protective gear and thick work gloves, stepped into view. Brody Jr. fired off a list of instructions at them I didn’t quite catch, then turned back to me.

“What’s this about?” I asked when he walked closer.

He looked abashed as he rubbed the back of his neck, and I realized he was also wearing heavy-duty work gloves. “Look, it’s no secret Marc and I don’t get along. Some of that’s because of my family and some is shit from way back, but that’s between me and Marc. What my dad did, though, is way outta line. Regardless of what he thinks about y’all’s relationship,” my jaw tightened and rushed on, “we’re a community and that comes first. I don’t have to like Marc to know this shop is good for the town. And even though it burns my biscuits to hear everyone andtheir damn grandmother excited to have it open again, I have to agree with them.”

I slowly uncrossed my arms and darted a look past him to where the people he’d brought were working on sawing the tree limb into more manageable parts. “You’re really here to help?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I really am. Just, you know, don’t tell Marc I was the one to put this together. I have a rep to protect.” He flashed me a grin that was closer to a grimace, and I was tempted to say that wasn’t a rep he should want to protect, but I held my tongue.

If he was here to help, I wouldn’t stand in his way. That didn’t mean I trusted him though, so I stayed there until the entire limb had been dismantled and the rest of the destruction cleared out. I felt a bit like an ass for not helping more, but my knee was officially swollen and it didn’t look like the anti-inflammatory I took was doing a damn bit of good. No sooner had his little crew finished up and gone than another, more professional one arrived.

“Well, damn, so much for getting here as fast as I could. Seems you’ve gone and got started without me.” Terrence placed his hands on his hips and grinned at me. My relief at seeing a friendly face was palpable.

I limped toward him to shake his hand. “Hey man, good to see you, and I appreciate you getting here so fast. What happened to calling?”

“Eh, some things worked out, and I figured I’d just talk to you in person. Assuming you’re still good for us to continue?”

“Oh, God, yes. What do you need from me?”

It was late into the afternoon by the time Terrence and his crew wrapped up boarding the front of the shop. While they’d been working, we’d hashed out what all I wanted done, which amounted to “whatever it takes to put it back the way it was.” Luckily, I’d taken plenty of pictures—mostly of Marc lookingcute as fuck while working—and we were able to compile a comprehensive view of how the shop had been before nature had taken offense. The whole while I kept glancing at my phone, hoping that at any second Marc would call or at least text. He did neither, and my cell remained depressingly silent. By the time they left, I couldn’t take it anymore.

In the dark of the shop, I tried calling him. When I only got his voicemail, I switched to text and got a big fat nothing. While I understood that Marc put distance between himself and others when he was upset, this felt like more than that. The way he’d told me to go once my leave was up didn’t sound like he planned on coming back. I hoped like hell I was wrong, that we could weather this storm together—literally and figuratively—it wasn’t like I had done nothing to deserve the silent treatment.

God, how could I have said those things to him? I treated him like a subordinate. It was one thing to play with that in the bedroom, where it was understood that we were equals, that regardless of what happened, he was the one in control. It was another to act like we were back in the army and he was being a mutinous soldier. While it wasn’t entirely fair to place all the blame on the asshole sheriff, it didn’t stop me from heaping a heavy dose of it on him. Whatever happened between me and Marc, I’d make sure that man was never in a position to so much as inconvenience Marc again, even if it meant using all the influence I swore I never would. Sheriff Beechum may not realize the power that came with the Gallagher name, but he would learn.

Chapter 39

Marc

My anger was only just beginning to ease when I arrived at Aunt Petunia’s. Then she opened the door and held out her arms.

“Oh, sweetie.” Those two words completely broke me.

I stepped into her embrace, my previous anger mixing with the hurt I’d fought like hell to keep at bay and revealing the messy disaster my heart had become. She wrapped me in her thin arms, still strong from years of working at the shop, and rubbed my back as I clung to her like kudzu and sobbed like a damn child.

She quietly pulled me inside, shutting the door behind me, and guided me to the spare room she always kept made up for potential guests. She set me down on the mattress, then retrieved my bag from where I’d dropped it in the front along with a glass of unsweet tea. I sniffled as I drank it and ate the shortbread cookie she put in my hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aunt Petunia asked gently while she petted my hair.

I shook my head, prompting a few remaining hot tears to streak down my cheeks. Despite that, I found myself saying, “The shop is ruined. I don’t know how we’ll ever recover.”

“What does James think?”

I flinched at the soft question. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks. Nothing will change the big ass, fucking tree that took out the entire front or—” I bit my tongue to prevent my broken heart from bubbling out of me. I honestly didn’t know what hurt more: seeing my future in ruins or learning what James really thought of me.

Aunt Petunia let out a heavy sigh and continued to stroke my hair. “I’ve found that time reveals most things are not nearly as broken as we believe them to be.”

I turned sullenly away from her. Much as I wanted to cling to her compassion and optimism with the grip of a drowning man, I knew better. You’d have thought I learned my lesson when I was taken. But no, I’d let myself believe what I wanted and, like always, it had bitten me in the ass.

“Get some rest, Tulip,” she said, pulling back the sheets for me to get under the covers. I kicked off my flip-flops without a second thought and curled up on the bed without bothering to remove anything else. She tucked me in and placed a soft kiss on my head, as she’d done dozens of times over the years when I’d come to her upset over something the other kids or my father had said. “We can discuss next steps tomorrow. Can I get you anything?”

Rather than answer, I burrowed deeper under the plush comforter. I heard the soft pad of her slippered feet cross the floor, followed by the flick of the light switch, and finally the soft snick of the door closing. In the silence that followed, my bruised heart ached at being so alone.

When I’d decided to pursue things with James, I’d expected to end with my heart broken. But not like this, not after deluding myself into believing we could truly be happy together. I missed Alex. And for the first time, possibly ever, I missed someone else more than my twin. I missedJames. It was a shame he would never miss me that way.