on her long, toned legs, slim hips, and generous round breasts, but it was no use. She was 100 percent onto him.
Even better, he knew she was 100 percent into him too.
“I thought I recognized you.” Her gaze was as direct as her voice. Strong, sure, she was undoubtedly a woman who got what she wanted.
Tommy shot a nervous glance toward the boutique owner, who was eyeballing him from her place near the register. Wouldn’t do any good to piss her off by flirting with the clientele. Then again, the customer had approached him, and how rude would it be for him to ignore her?
Unsure how to proceed, he closed his eyes and started strumming the next tune. Getting lost in the music was the best default he knew. Besides, he was getting paid to play music, not set up a threesome.
He was halfway to the chorus when he realized he’d abandoned the Coldplay song he’d originally started and drifted into the one he’d written about the night he’d kissed Madison. “Violet Eyes,” he called it—a dead giveaway if there ever was one. And while he’d fully intended to change the name along with the more identifiable lyrics, he hadn’t quite gotten around to it, and now he was so far in, there was nothing to do but continue.
Maybe no one would notice.
Maybe they were too busy shopping and drinking to make the connection.
But when he opened his eyes again, he found the blonde and brunette standing right where he’d left them, having forfeited a fun night of shopping and champagne swilling to focus on him.
“Everything okay?” The boutique owner fussed over the women.
The blonde ignored her and maintained her focus on Tommy, while the brunette surrendered her glass of champagne and handed over the black dress she’d been carrying. “I’d like it in red as well,” she said. “You can send them both to my house. You know the address.”
The boutique owner was all fawning gratitude, but the woman had already moved on. As he neared the end of the song, he watched in amazement as she reached into her bag, slid a card from an engraved gold case, and flashed a sexy grin as she slipped the card into his pocket, then promptly left the boutique with her friend.
He watched them go, knowing he should be thrilled. And admittedly, part of him, most of him, was. It wasn’t the first time he’d been hit on by an older woman. Solo gigs were pretty much a magnet for that sort of thing. Though it was the first time he’d been hit on by two at one time.
Still, now that they’d gone, he wasn’t sure he was willing to follow through. Undoubtedly, it would result in the kind of wild night he’d brag about for the rest of his life, but Tommy was looking for something more than just a good time. As ridiculous as it was, he’d been holding out for Layla, waiting for her to come around and admit there’d been magic in the kiss that they’d shared—a waste of time that had gotten him nowhere. Layla had been drunk when it happened, and once sober, she’d given no indication of ever wanting to repeat it.
He slipped his guitar into its case and forced himself to deal with his own harsh reality. Fact was, he hadn’t had a single date since he’d arrived in LA. He’d basically turned down every woman who expressed the slightest bit of interest in him, and for what? So he could win the world record for unintended celibacy?
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