by K. C. Wells
Table of Contents
Blurb
Sneak Peek
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
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Copyright
Under the Covers
By K.C. Wells
Can they find their HEA in Romancelandia?
Chris Tyler loves his job. He photographs some of the hottest guys on the planet, but none stir him like Jase Mitchell. He’ll never let Jase know – he values their friendship too much to spoil it.
Jase is looking forward to the Under The Covers Romance convention. It’s a great opportunity to connect with readers who want to meet their favorite cover model, but more importantly, with agents who could advance his career. Too bad the only person he yearns to connect with is Chris.
What Chris wants is Jase in his life, but he’s afraid that’s sheer fantasy. What Jase desires is a Hollywood dream, but that will mean leaving Chris behind. What both crave is a real-life romance and their own Happily Ever After.
Some guys have all the luck.
“Chris?” Jase regarded him with amusement. “You got enough shots in this position? Only, I’m gonna get cramps in my legs any second now.”
“I’ll rub ’em for ya,” Gabe volunteered, slipping his hand under the sheets, but Jase stopped the motion with his own hand, grasping Gabe’s wrist firmly.
“That’s quite all right. I’m more than capable of doing that myself.” He glanced toward Chris with an eye roll that Gabe wouldn’t catch.
Chris felt a little lighter. “Okay, guys, I think that’s enough. We’ve got plenty of the steamier poses in case the publisher wants to try and slip one past Amazon again.” And good luck with that.
As always, thank you to my wonderful beta team, for seeing what I miss.
Chapter One
April 2018
IF looks could kill, Gabe Wilson would have died about three times during the past hour, in the most imaginative ways photographer Chris Tyler could conceive. He considered the last one to be his bitchiest and best—death by an unexpectedly lethal shot of Botox.
Not that he really wanted Gabe dead. Although the way Gabe was looking at fellow model Jase Mitchell—like he wanted to lick every inch of Jase’s tanned flesh—made Chris reconsider. He was sure he still had that voodoo doll from New Orleans around there somewhere….
Chris knew his hostility toward Gabe had nothing to do with the leers he was giving Jase, and everything to do with the fact that Chris wanted to be the one lying on that rumpled bed with Jase, his hands on those smooth, bare shoulders, his gaze filled with heat as he contemplated a night of rolling under the covers with the gorgeous model.
When Gabe wasn’t looking, Chris gave him the evil eye.
Some guys have all the luck.
“Chris?” Jase regarded him with amusement. “You got enough shots in this position? Only, I’m gonna get cramps in my legs any second now.”
“I’ll rub ’em for ya,” Gabe volunteered, slipping his hand under the sheets, but Jase stopped the motion with his own hand, grasping Gabe’s wrist firmly.
“That’s quite all right. I’m more than capable of doing that myself.” He glanced toward Chris with an eye roll that Gabe wouldn’t catch.
Chris felt a little lighter. “Okay, guys, I think that’s enough. We’ve got plenty of the steamier poses in case the publisher wants to try and slip one past Amazon again.” And good luck with that. “Get your clothes back on and we’ll call it a night.”
Gabe threw back the sheets and knelt up on the bed. It wasn’t difficult to miss his erection in those sheer briefs. What amused Chris most? Jase wasn’t even looking.
“Want to grab a bite to eat?” Gabe asked Jase as he pulled on his T-shirt.
Across the studio from the bed, Chris tensed. Say no. Please say no.
Jase sat up, running his fingers back through his hair to tame it a little. “Sorry, but I have plans. Thanks for asking, though.” He got up and went over to the chair where he’d laid his clothes, and dressed himself.
Chris got on with the task of moving cameras out of the way and generally tidying up the set, breathing a little easier. He couldn’t help being pleased that Jase had given Gabe the brush-off, not that he had any intention of asking Jase himself.
There were some lines you didn’t cross.
“Listen, I’m in town for a few days. We could meet up for dinner one night, if you like.” Gabe gave Jase the full, perfect white-teeth smile. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
That line Chris didn’t want to cross was right there, and for the first time, he wavered. Ask him! Say something! Make a move!
Jase pulled on his boots before facing Gabe. “Sorry, but I’ve got a lot on this week.” He gave a shrug. “Just bad timing.”
“Sure.” Gabe finished dressing, his smile a thing of the past. He peered at Chris. “Can you send me a copy of those via Dropbox? I’d like to see them too.” He scowled. “Just in case I don’t like the one they pick.”
“Sure. And I don’t think there’ll be a problem. You looked as fabulous as always.” Chris removed the SD card and started downloading the images onto his PC. Jase was leaning against the desk, staring at his phone, ignoring them both.
Gabe waved his hand. “Okay, I’m outta here.” He picked up his jacket and headed for the door. “Thanks for making me look fantastic again, Chris.”
“Don’t forget your scarf!” Chris yelled after him. “You don’t wanna be without it right now.” Early April in New York was proving unsurprisingly chilly.
Gabe came to a halt, turned around, grabbed his gray scarf from where he’d left it hanging on a hook, then strode along the hallway that led to the door.
When it slammed shut behind him, Jase looked up and let out a shuddering sigh. “Could he be any more obvious? Every time you had us change position, he got his hands closer to my package.”
Chris gave him a hopefully sympathetic glance. “Would it surprise you to learn he describes himself as straight?”
Jase snorted. “Is that some new definition of straight I haven’t heard of? Because I swear I felt his drool on my back more than once during the bed shots.” He bit his lip. “Do you think the pics will be any good?”
Chris had to smile. “How many book covers have you been on so far? The camera doesn’t exist that could take a bad photo of you. If it did, the lens would crack.”
“You’re sweet.” Jase glanced at his phone. “Say, are you doing anything right now? I mean, have you got another shoot lined up?”
“Why? I thought you had plans.” Chris couldn’t help grinning.
Jase gave him a sheepish smile. “I do. I need to talk to you about something, and I was thinking we could do that over a drink.”
For one heart-stopping moment, Chris was overwhelmed by the idea that Jase might possibly feel for Chris the way he felt for Jase. Then he dismissed the concept as illogical. In all the years they’d worked together, their relationship had been purely professional.
/> “Sure, I can do that,” he said in as nonchalant a manner as he could muster. “Is there something wrong?”
Jase’s brow smoothed out. “God, no. It’s just that… you’re going to the Under the Covers Romance Convention next month, aren’t you? In Vegas?”
Chris nodded. “I go every year. Why?”
“Well, it’s going to be my first time.”
“At a book convention?”
Jase flushed. “At any convention. And I was hoping you’d find a bit of time to let me know what to expect.”
Chris cackled. “Oh my. A con virgin. Well, I’m sure I can find time for a drink and a chat.” He peered at Jase. “You’re not nervous, are you?” Jase always came across as confident and self-assured.
“I wasn’t, until I learned how many people are going to be there. Nearly seven hundred authors, and maybe three thousand readers. Not to mention all the publishers, agents, and whoever else is going.”
“Feeling a little overwhelmed?” Chris could understand that. He remembered his first romance book con. Talk about feeling like a very tiny fish in a very large ocean.
“It shows, huh?” Jase let out a nervous laugh, and Chris took pity on him.
“Come on,” he said, getting up from his chair and reaching for his jacket. “There’s a great bar just around the corner, and they make a mean cocktail.”
Jase’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re talking.” He pocketed his phone and picked up his coat.
As they headed for the door, Chris mused that in the seven years of their photographer/model relationship, this had to be the closest they’d gotten to a more personal conversation.
Not that he minded in the slightest.
“SO,” Jase began, taking a sip of his margarita, “what do you actually do at these conventions?” He was delighted Chris had agreed to a drink, not just because he’d have the chance to get the info he needed, but also because it meant he finally got Chris away from his camera. Seven years of working together as photographer and model, and Chris had always kept things on a strictly business basis.
Even if Jase had hoped he’d behave otherwise.
Chris leaned back against the padded bench of their booth. “Mostly I meet with publishers, looking for contracts to produce cover shots. I’m not tied to one particular publisher, hence how I end up doing shoots for any kind of romance cover you can name. Historical, with gorgeous costumes and heaving bosoms. Contemporary. BDSM, with dark, brooding backgrounds and a lot of leather. Gay.”
“I meant to ask you about that. I’ve been doing a lot of gay romance covers lately. Is that a thing?” It felt like all of five minutes since Chris had suggested, after two years of doing nothing but headshots, that Jase would look good on a book cover. In reality, five years had passed, and the start of a career that meant steady money coming in for Jase.
Chris chuckled. “If an explosion of gay romance is a thing, then yes, it is. Five years ago I was producing covers for a couple of publishing companies that put out gay romance. Then the self-publishing revolution really hit, and now everyone is writing them. At least, that’s how it feels sometimes. Put it this way. My book cover shoots make up most of my work.” He smiled. “Didn’t I tell you this would be good for you?”
Jase nodded. “And I’m grateful. Especially as my original plans didn’t pan out.”
Chris took a long drink of his mojito. “Yeah, I know. It’s so damn hard to make a break into the acting world. But you’ve done some commercials, right?”
Jase laughed. “Sure. I was the Gillette Man, as my mom keeps reminding me. Shaving commercials weren’t exactly what I had in mind.” He sighed. “At least I got a few parts in some soap operas. I really thought I’d gotten in the door with those.” Not that soaps were what he wanted. No, for Jase, the Holy Grail was a significant part in a movie, or—better yet—a role on the stage.
“I keep going for auditions, you know,” he said softly.
Chris gave him a warm glance. “That’s good. Don’t give up on your dream.”
Jase smiled. “Just last week I had an audition for a part in a movie. Good part too. The best I’ve ever gone up for.”
“When will you hear if you’ve been successful?”
Jase sighed. “If I don’t hear back, then I didn’t make it. I’m not expecting to get it, if I’m honest.” Just hoping. Dreaming.
“Don’t lose faith.” Chris locked gazes with him. “Seriously. If that’s what you really want, then you keep trying to make it happen, okay?”
Jase nodded, overcome by the earnestness in Chris’s voice.
“I looked you up, you know,” Chris said quietly. When Jase gave him an inquiring glance, Chris flushed. “You know when you wrote down all your experience when you first started working with me? Well, I went looking for your first commercial.”
“Oh my God. Me, as a little kid, standing on a copy of the Yellow Pages so I could kiss a pretty girl under the mistletoe? Tell me you deleted it.” It had been revoltingly sweet, and his mom had told everyone she met for at least a year after it first aired, much to Jase’s embarrassment.
“Aw, I thought it was cute.” Chris’s eyes twinkled, and not for the first time, Jase thought how beautiful they were, a deep, warm brown that went perfectly with his light brown hair. What I’d give to have those eyes focused on me in some place where there was just the two of us.
A bed would be perfect.
He cleared his throat before steering the conversation to safer ground. “So tell me what to expect at the convention. Because all I have is a list of events I’m supposed to be attending.”
“If you take a look at the agenda, you’ll see it’s roughly made up of three parts. There are the craft panels for the authors, where they get advice on writing from people who’ve had a lot of success. Plus, there are opportunities to meet with agents and publishers and make a pitch. I do a talk on what makes a good cover, along with someone from the art department of a publishing company.”
“I’ll have to make a note of that one.”
Chris’s eyes gleamed. “Yeah. About that. Have you any idea how many book covers you’ve been on?”
Jase didn’t exactly keep count. “Not really.”
“Would it surprise you that after five years of doing this, you are now one of the most prolific models when it comes to romance covers? Put it this way. You step into that room, and you’re gonna know exactly how many readers like your covers.” Chris grinned. “I can almost hear the squeals from here. And of course there’ll be a lot more cover models wandering through the hotel hallways, usually wearing something that shows off their muscles.”
Ah. That reminded him. “What do I take with me? Are we talking casual, professional, what?” Jase should have written it all down in a list.
“No bare chests, okay? That tends to get frowned upon. Just remember, you’re a walking advertisement for your brand.” Chris leaned forward. “But if you want my advice? Bring the kilt you wore for that cover when you were a laird up in the highlands. Remember?”
“A kilt?” Jase chuckled. “You sure about that?”
Chris returned to his earlier position. “Trust me. Those ladies will swoon for you in a kilt.”
Jase snorted. “It’s not the ladies I want to be doing the swooning.” Then he stilled. “Shit. I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did.” His heart pounded. In all the years of their professional relationship, his sexuality had never come up, and he’d never mentioned it. And as for his attraction to Chris? For all Jase knew, he’d spent the past five years lusting after a straight guy. When it was just headshots, that was one thing, but when they started working on the book cover photos, and they’d begun working more closely….
Getting up close and personal had given Jase a whole new perspective.
Chris took another drink from his glass. “Relax. You’re safe. And I’m not exactly surprised.”
“You’re not?” Jase blinked.
Chris gave a shrug. “How does
the saying go? ‘It takes one to know one.’ If you get my drift.” He winked. “And bring the kilt.”
It was the boldest thing Jase had ever heard come from Chris’s mouth.
It was also the most encouraging.
“Can we go back to the agenda?” Not that Jase wanted to, but it meant he was less likely to say something that would ruin their professional friendship. Just because he’s gay does not mean he’d be interested. And after seven years of getting along just fine, Jase did not want to screw this up.
“Sure. There are a lot of reader events, where they get to meet their favorite authors and get a ton of free books. These go on during the day, and you’re probably down to go to a few of them.”
Jase nodded. “There’s one about bridesmaids and best men. Apparently I need a tux for that one.” He could see this using up every ounce of his luggage weight allowance.
“Yeah. You get to mingle, look pretty, have your picture taken with the readers, that kind of thing. And then there are the social events. These take place every night. Sometimes there’s dinner, sometimes not, plus a lot of music and dancing.”
Something clicked in Jase’s mind. “Oh. I’m dancing at one of those.” By the sound of it, he’d be on a podium, along with a few other models.
Chris’s eyes widened. “You might wanna think about a bare chest for that one. I’ll make sure that event is on my agenda. As support, of course,” he added.
Jase didn’t miss the twinkle in his eye.
“The big event of the week is the book signing. The authors sit in a huge room in long rows, and then they let the readers loose on them.”
“You make it sound like a feeding frenzy.”
Chris laughed. “More like several long lines of fans waiting to connect with their favorite authors. A lot of readers only come for that event, and yeah, you can expect up to three thousand of them. Then it’s the final party, and come Sunday it’s all over, apart from all the goodbyes.”