“Grab some salad and come on, then,” Mia said.
“Why isn’t Archer joining us for lunch?” I asked as I followed Mia’s path across the bridge, turning right instead of left, away from the kitchen garden.
“He can’t leave the forge unattended.”
“The forge? What, he’s a blacksmith or something?” I had visions suddenly of Archer dressed in dirty jeans and a leather apron and no shirt, those muscles in his arms bulging and shiny with sweat and…
“You didn’t know? What on earth did the two of you talk about yesterday?”
“Donkeys,” I offered. “He said you could take me to meet them.”
“Sure.” She turned off the path into a yard surrounded by impressive brick outbuildings. “These are the old stables. Archer’s made part of them into his forge.”
She knocked loudly on an open door and waited for Archer’s response before entering. Following her, I looked around curiously, breathing in the pervasive scent of metal and smoke. I’d had some idea in mind of an anvil and a big basket of fire, like in all the fantasy shows I watched. Instead, there was a bewildering array of machines, metal benches, and a forge with a giant hood and extraction pipe. Fire was glowing deep red, calling to the dragon in me and making it hard to look away.
But something even better was calling to both me and my dragon—Archer was looking at me. I say looking. Staring was more like it, his eyes moving over me from head to foot. This was the first time he’d seen me in anything other than less-than-sexy workwear. I cocked a hip, very subtly, and let him drink in his fill of the jeans that showed off my arse and emphasised my package.
“Ollie brought the salad,” Mia said, sadly dragging Archer’s attention away from me.
Following her lead, I placed the bowl on a metal table with lots of holes in it. I had no idea what it could be for, but that applied to almost everything in this place. “What do you make?” I asked.
“Gates, door furniture, fire irons—anything that people want making properly rather than mass-produced. I do a fair few commissions.” He rubbed his brow, leaving a dirty mark that Isowanted to lick off his skin.
“You should show them to Ollie,” Mia said.
“How’s your morning been?” Archer obviously had no intention of showing me his commissions. Which sounded dirtier than I’d intended. His eyes were keen on my face, and although I told myself he was just checking if his guest was okay, I liked having all of his attention.
“Fine, thanks. I helped Tim again this morning, but I thought I’d have a proper look around the gardens this afternoon.”
“If you’re going into the maze, take your phone. I’ve lost count of the rescue missions we’ve had to mount over the years.”
I was gaping at him unflatteringly, but— “You have amaze?And you didn’t lead with that? You let me get excited about donkeys when you have amaze?”
“To be fair, the donkeys are pretty cute,” Archer said, a smile lurking in his eyes.
I grinned back at him. Forget the forge, I was basking in the warmth of that smile.
I was sorry when he finally looked away, towards Mia, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. “Thanks for this,” he said, nodding towards his lunch. “I’d better get on.”
I walked with Mia back to the house, which was the only reason I wasn’t texting Jack. Ablacksmith?That explained the shoulders and arms. And chest, from what I’d seen in that tight t-shirt. Jack would understand that IneededArcher to bang me with his big hammer.
Because I was with Archer’s little sister, I kept my phone in my pocket and let her tell me how talented he was. I had no doubt about it, but it wasn’t his talent with hot metal that was preoccupying me right now. How the hell was I supposed to survive this?
ARCHER
Ollie seemed to brighten every room with his smile and his positivity. Yesterday, I hadn’t thought twice about touching him to turn him around, helping him locate the building he was so confused about as he stood right in front of it.
The problem was, I hadn’t wanted to let go of him afterwards. He was stronger than he appeared, and when he turned around to face me, his face lifting up to mine, his full lips curved in a smile, I’d been tempted to kiss him. It would have been so easy.
And so wrong. He was my guest, and not by his choice. That had been easier to remember when he hadn’t looked like he had this morning. I’d had no idea of the arse, the legs, the all-round perfect body he had. Maybe a little smaller than I usually went for, but perfectly formed. As if he’d been put here simply to tempt me.
I distracted myself from my thoughts by working through my messages and emails while I had lunch. No new enquiries, but the Moores were getting a stone plinth installed for their sculpture and wanted to double-check the sizing with me. I couldn’t work out if their request when they already had the measurements was due to over-excitement or a polite way of prompting me that I’d promised to get it to them by the end of this week.
It was a good reminder of my responsibilities. I didn’t have the luxury of messing around with anyone, let alone someone so young and light-hearted, who would pull me away from all the things I had to do.
I put the empty plates outside the workshop door to signal that I didn’t want to be interrupted and turned my attention to the sculpture I was beginning to hate. Technically, there was nothing wrong with it. Artistically, there was nothing wrong with it. But I was sick of creating eagles, however beautiful they were. Why didn’t someone commission an octopus sculpture? That would be so much more interesting, both to make and to have in a garden somewhere.
The design I’d sketched at the moot flashed into my mind, sending a thrill of anticipation through me. I loved the act of creation—even when I ended up getting dirty, sweaty and with more burns than Mia’s attempts at cooking—and this one felt special. This was Avebury,yet somehow it was Avebury as seen through Ollie’s eyes. The wonder in him had reminded me of what it had been like to be young, so long ago.
