"Okay, I usually don't comment, but..." Chase spoke up, his tone teasing. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours. If they're not people you know..."
Oh man, he thinks I draw French boys. Jackson blushed. "They're not specific people." He flipped back to his nude sketches. There weren't many – he didn't really draw people aside from modeling his rare human sculptures. He liked to find organic shapes for metal sometimes, though...
"Not bad," Chase murmured, leaning in for a better look at a drawing of a naked man stretched out on his side along the floor. "Did you study drawing people?"
"No, not beyond a basic sketching class."
"That's pretty good, then."
Jackson smiled at the compliment. It wasn't over-the-top, but it was sincere praise. "Thank you. What about you?"
Chase had been waiting for him to ask. He beamed and flipped open his notebook, turning back a good chunk of pages.
Oh, shit. His men were hunks. They were all strong and posed in masculine ways – one from the side, looking sideways and flexing an arm. Another was from behind, the man's head rolled back and arms spread. A third showed him from the front, curling a strong bicep across his muscled chest.
"Wow," Jackson grinned, his gaze returning to his own page. He'd drawn willowy men with strong cheekbones, keen eyes, and a little light muscle. His men actually looked a little like Chase... And Chase had drawn men like him.
Chase had reached the same conclusion at the same moment. His lips parted as he gazed at Jackson's sketch, then at Jackson and his own notebook.
He was flustered. Jackson had never seen him flustered before. Red crept up his angular cheeks, his pretty pink lips looking...
Oh, no. Jackson wanted to kiss him.
"That based on anyone in particular?" Jackson asked. He hoped his voice didn't sound strained.
"My ex," Chase snorted with laughter. "But he was an asshole, so I don't mind you looking. It's not an exact drawing anyway."
Jackson was startled into a laugh. "Oh. He looks tough."
Chase's smile faded as he looked down at the page, then flipped forward to a blank one again. "Yeah. He was."
Jackson didn't like the way he was shutting down. He was starting to get a horrible sneaking suspicion that this guy had been bad news.
Not again. His little brother Cam had split up from his ex for the umpteenth time earlier that summer, just before meeting Noah. Jackson had talked Cam into blocking that asshole's number at last. Not that he was worried now; Cam was utterly smitten with Noah.
But Jackson knew how to handle this: with a light touch. He let the subject drop and instead teased, "Nice buff men."
Chase looked up, smiling. "Thanks," he laughed. "You can tell my type of man, huh? Yours are a lot more... willowy."
"They are," Jackson agreed, and pulled back from Chase enough to look him up and down. He winked. "More like you, but not as handsome."
Chase's pink blush deepened to a dark red. His cheeks rounded in pleasure that he was trying not to show. Instead, he stuttered, "S-So, did you have any, uh, ideas for your tattoo?"
That's adorable. Jackson grinned at his sudden bashful behavior. "A few. There's a coat of arms for the Riley family, since we're all from Ireland and northern England."
"Oh, the old shield on your arm kinda thing?"
"Not exactly." Jackson grinned. "Um, ours involves a severed hand dripping blood, held up by two pissed-off lions..."
Chase's eyebrows shot up and he laughed. "Oh, you don't want something really morbid? I mean, I can do bones poking out-"
"No," Jackson spoke over him, pushing Chase away from him lightly. "Ugh, no, that's not my style."
"I didn't think so," Chase laughed louder, elbowing him back playfully. Their shoulders brushed and Chase shivered as he leaned in across his sketchbook, uncapping his pen with his lips.
Jackson stared at the red lips wrapped around the smooth plastic pen cap. He imagined them elsewhere for a moment. He quickly looked at Chase's eyes when Chase prompted, "So, the lions?"
"Yeah. The colors are green and gold, maybe yellow."
"Green and yellow lions?"
He was already drawing in quick, confident strokes, outlining a lion from the side just as they appeared on so many family crests. How many had he tattooed already? Or did he just draw from memory? God, he was good. Jackson was a bit jealous.
"It doesn't have to be exactly that," Jackson told him. "That's just one... source of inspiration. I mean, a realistic lion like you've got on your shoulder would be epic. Or there's inside family jokes I could get done."
Chase hummed, eyeing the lion for a moment. Then, he nodded and straightened up. "How about I doodle a few ideas and show them to you soon? Text me with any suggestions to add to the design or consider. Family jokes or names or anything."
Jackson gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks. I'm pretty open to ideas. I wouldn't mind having something... weapon-y, or otherwise blacksmith-y." Jackson became aware that he was still leaning sideways against the counter facing Jackson. They were just a little closer than friends usually stood, and Jackson's heart raced.
Chase raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little further still. "Blacksmith-y? Is that a word?" he teased. His dark eyes fell to Jackson's lips before he dragged his gaze back up to Jackson's eyes again.
He's flirting, too...! Jackson bit back his moment of excitement. He licked his lips and nodding. "It is now. Uh, speaking of which..."
It was his turn to pull back a little so he could flip through his book. He had photos added to the book with little corner squares near his concept sketches.
When he found some swords, he showed Chase. "These are a few that I did last year for one collector... and around here, I have another one... ah, here. I should have brought my portfolio book. That's back at the workshop."
"Hm," Chase rubbed his chin, leaning in across Jackson.
He smelled like leather and hand sanitizer and something fresh and spicy...
A chill ran down Jackson's spine. He tried to lean sideways and watch Chase trace the pattern along the hilt with a finger. He tried not to look at the short hair at the back of Chase's neck that he ached to feel against his lips.
Shit. I want him.
"I like that, I think. But I'd like to see other examples."
"Wanna come back to my workshop?" Jackson offered as casually as he could.
He didn't miss the way Chase licked his lips and nipped the lower lip. "Yeah, sure. The shop's just about closed now. You'll just have to wait for me to close up."
"Fine with me," Jackson assured him. "I'll wait outside and be your burly security guy," he added, winking again.
"Oh, my hero." Chase grinned, returning to sketching a few more lions – the heads, the full bodies curled up, one holding a sword... oh, that just looked dumb.
Jackson snickered under his breath.
"Yeah, I didn't expect you to take to that one," Chase grinned. "Sword-fighting lions? No?" He added a second lion, lying on the ground, and drops spurting out of the second lion's chest...
"No!" Jackson laughed and shoved Chase, making him streak the paper with his pen tip. "No, that's horrible!"
Chase laughed richly, then capped his pen and tucked it into his pocket. "Go wait outside then, I'll be there in a couple minutes."
Jackson grinned, brushing his hand down Chase's arm from his shoulder to his elbow. He grabbed his sketchbook. "Yes, sir," he teased. The door rattled shut behind him as he stepped out into the mild August evening.
Jackson drew a deep breath to try to calm himself.
He'd made Chase get flustered, but something about Chase was getting to him, too. Was this just because they were both single and around each other? But... no, it wasn't just that.
The conversation last night at the restaurant had shown him a new passion. Chase had only ever been calm and collected around Jackson before. That spark of fiery attitude that made Jackson stop and pay attention.
For some reason, Jackson was even enchanted with Chase's morbid sense of humor. He knew Chase only did it because it got to him, but somehow that made him grin even more to himself. It was like buddies messing around with each other, but... there was more. Especially every time they brushed together.
Something told him it was going to be hot at the forge, and he couldn't wait.
Chapter 13
Chase
Chase was fucked.
He'd found it hard enough to resist flirting with Jackson before the gorgeous, intense, sweet man started to flirt with him. Now, it was damn near impossible. Hypersexual was a good description for Chase, but he hadn't cared before.
The one problem? Jackson had said in his dating profile that he wanted a relationship. Chase didn't do relationships.