“Ha!” Ethan laughs into the back of his neck. “It’s hard to see unless the light hits it just right, but I knew you’d appreciate it.”
Rimming the edge of the wood is a thin border of inlaidwalnut. It’s gorgeous. Jackson has only seen this type of handiwork in the small old showrooms in Europe. This is old-world-level craftsmanship.
“Inlaid walnut.”
“Bam.”
“This is truly exquisite. How in the world—”
Ethan moves in closer, presses him ever so slightly.
Taking Jackson’s hands in his own, Ethan traces their fingers over the river of the inlaid wood. “See how smooth it is? Like it’s always been there? If you can believe it,that’sthe hard part. Not the actual scoring. Which is no picnic either, but—”
Jackson can barely breathe. Ethan’s ropy arms are clasped around him; his hands are still in Ethan’s; he feels Ethan’s hot breath on his neck. He doesn’t want to move a muscle, break this spell.
“Where in the world did you learn how to do this?”
Ethan keeps running Jackson’s hands over the wood like he’s guiding the planchette across a Ouija board.
“My father. One of the only good things he taught me.” Ethan’s tone darkens.
“This is seriously showroom quality. If you’d like, I could introduce you to some connections I have in Dallas—”
Ethan presses in even closer; his hip bone juts right up against Jackson’s butt. His vision swims from the contact.
“I appreciate the offer. But, if you haven’t figured it out, I prefer to cut the middleman out.” Ethan’s voice is low, rough, in Jackson’s ear. “Be my own man.”
Jackson literally gulps, positive that Ethan can hear him.
He feels himself stiffen, is afraid that Ethan can sense that as well.
“No, I get that. And respect it.” His mouth is dry, like it’s filled with dust.
“We just moved here from Dallas. And I know those showrooms, but yeah—”
“Where in Dallas?”
“Tiny house,decrepithouse, in lower Greenville—”
“I know that area well—” Jackson thinks about the gay bars there, wonders if Ethan ever wandered into one. Is considering asking him.
“Hated it. I’m a land man, but it was close to Highland Park, to the wealthy, so lotsa clients. Speaking of which, if you know of anyone in town who might be interested, I’m still trying to build my business here. Like your friend Charleigh?”
Jackson freezes. He can’t exactly explain to Ethan thathell no, Charleigh Andersen is not interested, that she out and out hates his entire family, so instead of replying, he chews the inside of his cheek.
“I mean, no pressure, but…” Ethan’s breath pants along the back of Jackson’s neck.
Even though his head is full of Charleigh right now, his body is full of Ethan, of being this close to him; his groin feels like it’s on fire.
“No big deal. I can put in a word with her,” he lies. “But it’s tough here right now. I know everybody seems like they’re dripping with it, but the recession has made people tighten theirpurse strings. I’ve lost clients lately—”
“Sorry to hear it.”
“But we’ll come out of it,” Jackson hurriedly adds, not wanting to scare Ethan away from town. “And in the meantime, I’ll brainstorm, get some referrals for you.”
Jackson hears footsteps; Ethan releases his arms, twists around.
“Pa, what are youdoing?” A girl’s voice, bewildered, accusatory, slices through the air.
