Harmony laughed. “But then you escaped to college.”

“Yes. Getting away from my family is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean, I love them, but I needed some space to figure out who I was away from the shadow of all those Cassidy males.”

“Honey, I’m still trying to get away from my brother. I haven’t succeeded yet.”

“So he’s still overprotective of you?”

“You have no idea. For some reason he still thinks he can decide what man is best for me. Though for Drake, it’s like I’m forever sixteen and incapable of making rational decisions where men are concerned.”

Mia wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Brothers.”

Harmony lifted her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

They laughed, then the other women joined them. After a while the guys joined the table. Harmony ended up sitting with Drake on one side of her and Barrett on the other. Talk about frustrating. But she forgot all about that once the music started up, as bands and artists played.

Soon, she was lost in the strains of beautiful blues music, with occasional jazz thrown in. People got up and danced, and even her brother found himself a beautiful woman to dance with. So did Flynn.

Barrett held his hand out to her. “Dance, gorgeous?”

She smiled. “I’d love to.”

They walked out to the dance floor, and Barrett pulled her against him, keeping a respectable distance as they glided around the floor together. Since the club was packed, at least they weren’t dancing next to her brother.

Not that he’d notice, since Drake’s entire focus was on his dance partner.

Perfect.

And when Barrett danced her to the back terrace, then out the door, she welcomed the slide of his hand down the bare skin of her back and the way he’d maneuvered her away from the prying eyes of her family and his.

He pressed her up against the cement wall of the terrace.

“I need this one minute alone with you. Just one kiss.”

It was dark and intimate on the terrace. Thick vines covered the arbor and a nice breeze had kicked up, though it did nothing to cool down her need for Barrett, which raged like an out-of-control wildfire. Barrett’s lips rubbed over hers, a delicious temptation that made her grasp the lapels of his suit jacket to tug him closer.

He groaned against her lips, then pulled back.

“If I don’t stop now, I won’t stop at all.”

She fought to catch her breath and smoothed her hands down her dress. “Why stop at all? Just tell my brother we’re together.”

“In front of your family? In front of mine? Tonight? No.”

She knew it was her emotions talking, but damn, this was frustrating. And irritating. “Fine.”

She turned and walked inside, grabbed another glass of champagne, then wandered around.

She was stopped by a very fine-looking black man. He was tall, with dark, mesmerizing eyes, short cropped hair with a fade on each side, and one hell of a sexy smile.

“Hello there, beautiful. And what’s your name?”

“Harmony.”

“Nice to meet you, Harmony. You’re here with our patrons, the Cassidys.”

He was very observant. “Yes, I am.”

“I’ve had my eye on you all night. Hard not to watch a beautiful woman grace our club.”

She was flattered. “Thank you. And if I recall correctly, you’re Luther Kent, one of the musicians playing here tonight.”

He smiled. “You have a good memory.”

She laughed. “I have a very good memory for outstanding singers.”

“Thank you, Harmony. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am. Are you from Austin?”

“New Orleans, originally, but I’ve been settled in Austin for a couple of years now. And you?”

“I live in Tampa, actually. I’m here visiting with the Cassidys.”

His brows lifted. “They are fine patrons of the blues.”

“So I’ve discovered.”

“In fact, the group coming out now plays some smooth music. Would you care to dance?”

Luther seemed a little inebriated, but she was just annoyed enough with Barrett, who refused to claim her as his, that she set her champagne down on a nearby table and said, “I’d love to.”

Luther took her hand in his and pulled her onto the dance floor, drawing her against the solid warmth of his body.

She let herself fall into the music, trying like hell to feel something—anything—for this fine-looking man.

Unfortunately, her body and soul were wrapped up in someone else. But she refused to give any thought to Barrett, instead tilting her head back to smile at Luther, who used his exceptional voice to softly sing the rhythmic strains of the instrumental being played onstage.

A woman might swoon at being courted in this manner, if a woman wasn’t pining away for some other man.

Which was ridiculous, because Barrett hadn’t asked her for any exclusivity.

So instead, she nestled in closer to Luther, who then let his hand slide down a little closer to her butt.

She corrected his erroneous assumption by lifting his hand back where it belonged—on her waist.

He gave her a smile, then pulled her closer.

The one thing she loved to do was dance, so when the next song played, he kept her on the dance floor. She didn’t mind that at all, even though his hands drifted into forbidden territory again.

“A little too familiar there, Luther,” she said, removing his hand from her rear—again.