Page 82 of The Arrangement

“James. I, uh, I was just on my way to see you.” Marc’s nervous statement grounded me back in the moment. Had he really been coming to me, or was he only saying that because I was standing right here?

“I was hoping we could talk,” I said, dropping my hand back to my side. He glanced at the woman who had to be his sister, Alex, and they seemed to have an entire conversation in that one look. “Please.”

His cheeks were that beautiful dusky pink I loved so much when he stepped back into the cottage. “Yeah. Um, how about we chat out back?”

I tried not to feel too relieved as I followed him through the cottage. We passed Aunt Petunia, who gave me an encouraging smile I was too afraid to read into. Marc’s sister gave him a meaningful look when we stepped outside, and he turned to shut the sliding door.

“I’m sorry to burst in here like this. I’m not trying to mess up time with your sister,” I said in a rush.

“What? No, no, don’t apologize. I should have reached out sooner.” He lowered his head as if embarrassed, but I wasn’t sure of the reason. I was the one who’d said such awful things.

“Look, I,” he began at the same time I said, “Marc, I–” We both stopped and gave an awkward laugh.

“Can I go first? Please. I need,” I took a bracing breath, “I need to tell you something.”

Fear flickered in his eyes and was gone so fast I’d have thought I’d imagined it if I hadn’t been looking right at him. “S-sure.”

“I’m not really sure where to start, so I’m going to dive right in. My CO called today. My leave is officially up.”

Color drained from Marc’s face. “Oh, uh. I guess this means you’ll be leaving then.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and they were noticeably redder when he reopened them. “Before you go, I want to say how sorry I am for how I acted. It wasn’t very mature, and I know it’s too late to say I’m gonna work on it—“

“Marc,” I tried to cut in, but he pushed on.

“No, it’s okay. I get it. I should have said something sooner. It’s just being demisexual has burned me in the past and I knew if you knew then you’d know that I was already in way deeper than I let on and—“

“Oh my God, stop talking already.” To help him out, I cupped his face and silenced him with a sweet but firm kiss. Learning he was demisexual certainly cleared up a few things and assuaged some of my concerns about being nothing more than an experiment to him. He blinked owlishly at me when I pulled away enough to look him in the eyes—eyes that had always seen so much more of me than anyone else ever had. “You really are too adorable for public consumption,” I said before brushing his lips with an even lighter kiss.

“I… I don’t understand. If you’re leaving...”

I ran my thumb along his cheek, somehow more in love with him than when I’d walked up to his aunt’s front door with my heart in my throat. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. My CO called asking for my reenlistment paperwork, and I couldn’t do it. Even not knowing how you felt, I couldn’t bring myself to re-up.” My heart felt like it might give out as I searched his face for any hint that he might want me to stay. But even if he wasn’t sure if I was worth keeping around, I planned to do whatever it took to convince him I was all in.

“So you told him… no?”

I nodded. “I’ve spent eight years fighting for my country. Now the only thing I want to fight for is you.” I let out a breath and rested my forehead against him. “I love you, Tulip.”

He sucked in a breath, and I leaned back to meet his shocked gaze. “What did you call me?”

“I called you Tulip, baby boy, and I’m completely in love with you.”

His hazel eyes took on a familiar, wet shine. “Who told you?” he whispered.

“No one,” I said with a small smile. “Figured it out a few days ago. Any chance you plan on saying something about that other thing I mentioned?”

He surged forward, wrapping his arms around my neck in a tight hold that threatened to cut off my air supply, and buried his face in the side of my neck. “Fuck, James, I love you so goddamn much.”

Relieved joy washed over me as I held him back just as fiercely. “I’m sorry for what I said. I never meant to hurt you.”

He leaned back, his hand cradling the side of my neck. “I know, Honeysuckle. I shouldn’t have snapped at the sheriff like I did, but I never could stand it when people talked shit about those I love.

“I get that. Pretty sure I’d be the one in jail if he’d laid so much as a finger on you.” Suddenly, what he’d called me finally registered. “Wait a second. Did you change my flower name?”

His cheeks turned that adorable pink. “Kind of. Though technically ‘buttercup’ was never actually your flower name.”

“So ‘honeysuckle’ wasn’t just a yellow flower?” I asked with a huff of laughter. His cheeks darkened even more as he shook his head. “Can I just say how funny it is that you gave me a flower name with ‘suck’ in it?”

His face was full-on red when he shoved me away. “Christ on a cracker, that’s not why.”

I snagged his wrist and tugged him back in close, pressing us chest to chest. “It’s still funny. Will you tell me what it means?”