The Arrangement (Men of Ulwich #1)

Chapter 1

Marc

Today was officially my last day as a specialist in the United States Army and the first day of my career as a florist. Okay, that was a bit of a stretch.

There were still a million and one things I needed to do before I could fully embrace my floral destiny, chief of which was reminding my friend that he’d agreed to help me get my aunt’s old shop sorted.

Great Aunt Petunia assured me there wasn’t that much work to be done to her shop in Fairhope, but she notoriously refused to do updates over the years.

Frankly, I was expecting a gut job. But first things first. I could worry about the scope of work I’d need to tackle before reopening the shop after I secured the help I needed.

Now if I could just find Jones, I could check one item off my list.

I jogged up to the fourth floor of the barracks and double-checked my phone for any texts before venturing down the hallway. I got to Jones’s room and rapped my knuckles on the door. When no response came, I knocked again. “Yo, it’s past noon, buddy.” Still nothing.

Frustrated, I pulled my phone back out, first to check the time and then to see if he’d texted to meet him somewhere else.

Time marched on, giving exactly zero shits that I wasn’t ready, and the only new text I had was from my sister, Alex, congratulating me and wishing me good luck.

I’d have to call her back later. Right now I had a much bigger problem: if I didn’t get my ass on the road in the next two hours, the moving truck would get to Fairhope before I did.

“Damn it. Where the hell are you, Jones?”

A guy a few doors down stepped into the hall, glancing in my direction as he locked up. “You looking for Jones?” he asked.

“I take it I’m not the only one,” I said, pocketing my phone and turning to face him. A glance at his ID strip said his name was Richards.

“Nope.” He stuffed his hands into his fatigues. “Last I heard, he went out with some of the unit last night. Haven’t seen him yet today.”

I sighed and brushed a hand over my head. I’d worn it characteristically short during my last tour, and the bristles tickled my palm. “Thanks anyway.” I began my sad trek back to the stairs, already anticipating an unpleasant conversation with the moving company.

“You know,” Richards said, pulling me up short, “you might try Davies one floor down. I’m like ninety percent sure he instigated the impromptu bar crawl, and I saw him earlier when I returned from my run.”

“Yeah? Do you think he might still be in the barracks?” A lot of us did our runs in the small hours of the morning. Plenty of time between then and now for Davies to have relocated.

Richards snorted a laugh. “Oh, I’m positive he’s still there, seeing as how he looked like he’d had too much fun at the bars. I think he’s in room 315. Worth a shot.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” I waved farewell, then went down to find Davies. Fingers crossed he was still in the room and not so hungover that he couldn’t help me locate Jones. Of course, if Jones would answer one of his damn messages, I wouldn’t have to traipse all over the damn barracks.

I fought hard not to check my watch as I wandered down the hallway of the third floor, looking for Room 315.

And failed. Ooh, boy, did I ever fail. And whose great idea was it to make the barracks’ hallways so freaking long?

Because, of course, Davies' room was clear on the other damn side of the building.

I quickened my pace, my footsteps obnoxiously loud in my ears thanks to the heavy boots I still wore.

Not that there was anything wrong with them.

I just missed my Converse something fierce.

I rounded a corner in the building and tugged my phone out to message Jones again.

At this rate, I’d have no choice but to leave without him, which felt like a shit thing to do since he was doing me a solid.

No sooner had I registered that I had virtually no service, when a sound caught my attention.

I slowed and approached the next door more slowly, still trying to determine what the sound was and where it was coming from.

The first door I came to was solidly closed and didn’t appear to be the source, nor was it the room I was looking for.

The same applied to the next, though I was getting closer to my destination on all fronts.

The sound came again, and this time there was no mistaking the low groan.

I ground to a halt and walked backward to reassess the door I’d just dismissed.

Sure enough, it hadn’t completely closed, allowing sound and a sliver of light to escape.

I’d hoped joining the military would help me stop doing things before I thought them through, among other things.

But it clearly hadn’t, as I maneuvered to peer through the thin opening.

Just one of the many reasons I’d opted not to reenlist.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brighter light filling the room.

When they did, I nearly choked on my tongue.

A woman with an impressive cascade of brown waves tumbling down her back knelt on the floor between the thick thighs of another soldier, bobbing her head with enthusiasm.

Somehow he’d snuck a civilian woman into the barracks, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that’s exactly what she was.

She moaned around what I assumed was his cock, and I took that as my cue to get the fuck out of there.

To my horror, when I turned to leave, the stiff fabric of my uniform brushed the partially open door, causing it to swing open a few inches.

Now there was absolutely no mistaking what I’d stumbled across.

To compound my embarrassment, the soldier looked up at the movement, and our eyes met.

Jesus Fucking Christ, it’s JD Gallagher.

For as long as I lived, I’d be able to recognize the man, and not just because he was six-foot-what-the-fuck, had muscles on his muscles, shockingly copper hair, and more freckles than stars.

I’d know him anywhere because he’d led the team that rescued my unit from where we’d been held captive.

His had been the first face I’d seen when I’d emerged from that dark hellhole, and I was eighty percent sure he’d ended up carrying me because I was too weak to walk after weeks of captivity.

Though my family had been beyond relieved at my safe(ish) return, my sister never passed up an opportunity to tease me about the mild case of hero worship I’d developed after the rescue.

Could she really blame me though? JD Gallagher was an incredible man and an even better soldier.

Not to mention, he’d personally pulled me out of that cave.

And now I was watching him get head from a tag chaser like a complete perv.

I desperately wanted to look away, but the most I could manage was a brief redirect to his exposed abs and chest covered in thick copper curls before my gaze slid back to his face.

He continued to hold my gaze while the brunette made sloppy sounds of enjoyment.

I watched, completely entranced, as he threaded his thick fingers through her hair and thrust into her mouth. He released another deep groan, and I swallowed thickly, still unable to tear myself away from his intense gaze.

“That’s it, take my cock. You like having those pretty lips stretched around my dick?

” he asked in a gravelly voice. She made a moan of what I assumed to be agreement, and I released a small startled noise, having momentarily forgotten she was there.

His eyes lidded, but didn’t break contact, and a grin teased his lips.

Holy fuck, that was hot.

Somewhere far outside my captivated bubble, a door slammed shut.

I jolted out of the trance, my face instantly becoming hotter than the pavement in July, turned away and bolted.

I didn’t walk, didn’t jog–I fucking ran and kept running until I was outside the barracks, gulping for air.

A strangled squeal of disbelief–I prayed to God no one heard–popped free when I went back over what had just happened.

Not only had I totally been peeping on my hero, I’d gotten hard and He.

Saw. Me. I honestly didn’t know which was worse.

Christ on a cracker. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Hey man, what’s up?”

To my mortification (really, how much could one person stand before they keeled over?) I yelped and jumped in surprise.

The owner of the voice laughed. “From soldier to civilian, just like that? I’m a little disappointed in you, Weathers.” Finally, my brain finished climbing out of the metaphorical foxhole we’d fallen into, and I narrowed my eyes.

“What the fuck, Jones?” I snapped irritably.

“Ease up, Weathers. I didn’t mean to spook you, and you can’t really blame me for teasing.

We both know you’d do the same if the roles were reversed.

” He grinned, flashing perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth in his dark face.

I forced my shoulders to relax and took a breath.

This was fine. Jones didn’t know what I’d seen, and no one ever would.

I didn’t even need to worry about running into Gallagher since I wasn’t re-upping.

Jones clapped a dark brown hand on my shoulder. “So what’s got you in such a state?”

Nothing at all. I just spent an undefinable amount of time watching my personal hero get a blow job, during which I forgot the woman was there, kept eye contact, oh yeah, and I got hard.

“Me? Where the hell have you been? Would it kill you to check your messages?” I asked in rapid fire, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on my weirdness.

“You messaged?” He pulled out his cell, and I realized he was still wearing probably what he had on last night. “Well, that explains a lot.” Jones pocketed the device and gave me an apologetic smile. “Looks like my phone died while I was out with the unit. Sorry about that. Did you need something?”

“Please tell me you’re joking. You agreed to help me move to Fairhope and get my great aunt’s shop in order?” I added when he stared blankly at me.

“Right! The flower shop. Still can’t believe you’re going to be a florist.” He shook his head. “I meant to tell you, I had something come up, so I’ll have to meet you down there. Text me the address?”

I wasn’t sure how much I bought him “remembering”, but he also gave me the out I desperately needed. “Sure thing. Just give me a heads-up so I can get things ready.”

He gave me a thumbs-up to confirm his receipt of the address (which he should have already had), then he ambled into the barracks with a carefree whistle and I headed for the parking lot, pointedly not thinking about how relieved I was that I’d never have to face JD Gallagher after what I’d witnessed.