Page 101 of Fresh Tracks
“Love you, Rainbow.” His eyes pierce right through me, making my breath hitch.
“Love you too,” I say, struggling to form words under the intensity of his gaze before his eyes soften.
“Just wanted to make sure you knew.” He gives my ass a playful slap and tilts his head toward the bar and smirks. “Now, go have fun with your friends. That’s why we’re here.”
I walk over to where Josie’s leaning on the bar, with an extra bounce in each step. I try not to overthink how I got here, with someone that pours his love out to me like his life depends on it.
“Good. I need your tall ass to flag down a bartender,” Josie huffs when I lean against the bar next to her. The band on stage finishes their song, sending a wave of dancers around us to get drinks. “Maybe someone will see you.”
“Josie. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re hard to miss, babe.” She glares at me, ignoring the fact that her very flattering tube top, denim mini skirt, and knee high black leather boots have the attention of practically every man in this bar.
As if on cue though, a bartender comes up to take our order before she can say another word. After he leaves to grab our beers, she raises her brows at me. “See? Came right over when you showed up. People notice you.”
I scoff and wave her off. “Whatever.”
What I actually mean is that I couldn’t care less who is looking at me. Right now, there’s only one man’s eyes that I care about. Just thinking about Tommy’s smoldering gaze roaming over my body has my skin heated and a flush creeping up my neck.
The bartender comes back with a bucket of beers and Josie starts going on about the plan for skiing tomorrow. I lift a beer to my lips, but stop before I take a sip when I hear it.
A distorted, soulful string of notes cuts through the musty air of the old bar, making the hair on the back of my neck stand.Their beautifully raw sound makes my heart race even though it feels like time stops.
No. It can’t be.
You plunged into my life
And I never had a chance
Thatvoice. That deep, smooth caressing voice that lives in my mind, when I close my eyes, fills my ears. And those notes. They might sound different with an electric guitar, but I know them. They’re the ones I’ve heard him writing and playing in his studio.
You told me, you told me, you told me
You know what you want
When I turn around to face the stage, Tommy is front and center with an electric guitar in his hands. The drummer and bass player from the local band are behind him but they might as well not exist in this moment. They’re keeping a steady, neutral beat to go with his masterful guitar playing. I barely notice because I can’t look away from the man I love. Apparently, no one else can look away from him either.
A small crowd has formed around the stage and a few people have their phones out recording and streaming him. I can’t imagine that any of them ever expected to see Tommy Jacob here tonight, not just playing, but performing a new song for the first time in years.
You asked me, you asked me, you asked me
Do I want it too?
Baby, I need you
Oh I know that it’s true
Do I want it too? I see the question in his eyes, but he doesn’t have to ask me. Neither of us have to ask anymore. Want isn’t even a strong enough word. Need isn’t strong enough. It feels like somehow we were always part of each other’s very being, we just needed to be ready to accept when the universe told us it was time.
Now I know what I am
The man that knows what he wants
So stop with the taunts
It’s too late to say no, Rainbow
I suck in a breath, hearing my nickname — my favorite name. That first weekend in Bend, I thought he was being stupid and trying to irritate me. Thinking back now though, I don’t know how I never saw it. His need for me has been there, I just had to look deeper into those eyes and I would have seen it. Right now, those eyes make it feel like the room narrowed to a tunnel between us. I watch him strum the borrowed guitar, pouring his mind and body into it. Those tousled locks of hair hang over his eyes, beading sweat down and over his stubbled, flushed cheeks. His forearms strain and tick with each flick of his wrist, reminding me of how they looked between my legs in the gym mirror. His eyes though, they stay fixed on me. Even in this crowded room with people cheering in the audience, this feels intimate and personal.
So baby, baby tell me
