Unexpected Rush

  "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.

  His gaze gleamed hot. "Well, it's a fine ass, Harmony."

  Some men. Always testing those boundaries. She stepped away. "Thanks for the dance."

  She walked away, but didn't get more than two steps when she heard the raised voice of her brother. And he was arguing with Luther.

  Oh, shit.

  She turned and headed back there.

  "You have no right to put your hands on her."

  Luther had his hands raised. "We were just dancin', man."

  "With your hands on my sister's ass."

  Harmony stepped between them. "Drake. We are guests here. Remember that."

  "I don't give a--"

  Barrett stepped in. "Hey, Drake, how about we all cool down and step outside for a minute."

  By then, Grant, Tucker and Flynn had walked up as well. And while Barrett walked Drake away, Barrett's brothers were having a conversation with Luther, all the while leading him toward the front door.

  "Are you all right?" Lydia asked, a look of concern on her face.

  "Honestly, I'm fine. He took a few liberties with his hands, but I was handling it."

  Lydia sighed. "He's very talented, but new, according to DeMartin. And he'll no longer be welcome to play here."

  Now Harmony felt awful. "Oh, don't do that on my account."

  Lydia put her arm around Harmony. "It's not on your account. We will never accept a man putting his hands on a woman like that. It's unacceptable behavior for the club. He's gone, honey."

  Harmony nodded. "All right."

  She felt awful for being the cause of this disturbance.

  Barrett and Drake came back inside. Drake came over to her. "Are you all right?"

  She directed her irritation to her brother, though in a very restrained fashion. "I'm fine. I was fine, and I can handle myself without you constantly treating me like I'm some kind of idiot who doesn't know her way around men."

  Drake grasped her shoulders. "He put his hands on you."

  She shrugged off his grasp. "Lots of men have put their hands on me. Some I accept, some I don't. Stop treating me like a child you have to monitor, Drake."

  She turned and walked away from him, stepping outside on the terrace. She wished she could go home right now.

  She was tired of men--all men. Every single one of the men in her life pissed her off.

  Barrett walked out and he was the last damn man she needed to see right now.

  He leaned against the wall with her, but didn't say anything.

  Finally, she did. "Okay. I get it. My brother is a ridiculous hothead and I understand why you don't want him to know about us."

  Barrett pushed off the wall, moving in front of her. "Harmony, you realize that's not why I came out here. I wanted to go over there and beat the shit out of that guy for putting his hands on you. So I'm no better than your brother, I guess."

  That made her feel marginally better. "But you didn't. And your reaction came from a different place. So you were jealous?"

  "Hell yes I was jealous, Harmony. I don't want anyone's hands on you but mine."

  She rubbed her temple where a headache was forming. "Well, isn't this just the shit?"

  "Yeah."

  "Would you take me back to the hotel? I have a killer headache."

  "Yup. Let me tell my parents--and your brother."

  "Thanks."

  She didn't want to be rude, so she found Lydia and Easton and thanked them for an amazing evening and said she had a headache and wanted to go back to the hotel.

  "I'm so sorry about this," Lydia said, grasping her hands. "We'll see you back at the ranch tomorrow morning for breakfast."

  She hugged Lydia. "Thank you so much for today and for tonight. I really had a wonderful time."

  She also found her mother, who was sitting at the table having an in-depth chat with Elijah. Fortunately, Mama had missed the chaos between her and Drake.

  "Are you all right, baby?"

  "Just a dustup, Mama. Nothing more. And Drake being a hothead."

  Her mother shook her head. "That boy. I'll talk to him."

  "No. Don't. I dealt with it already."

  Her mother hugged her, then Barrett came to claim her. They got into a car and headed over to the hotel. She was quiet and looked out the window, reflecting on what had happened. She was a mix of emotions--embarrassment, anger and frustration.

  "You can just drop me off," she said once they reached the hotel.

  He grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at him. "Not a chance in hell of that happening."

  He helped her out of the car, then inside the hotel.

  Barrett walked her to the elevators and she pushed the button, then turned to him. "I've got this."

  He gave her a look. "I'm taking you upstairs."

  She really just wanted to be alone, but Barrett was currently glued to her side, his hand at her back, and he appeared to be going nowhere, which, okay, was a comfort to her hurt feelings.

  So maybe she didn't want to be alone as much as she thought.

  When he pushed the button that was not her floor, she gave
him a look.

  "I'm taking you to my room. I already texted Flynn and told him to take a hike tonight. He'll get another room."

  "Great. Someone else I've inconvenienced tonight."

  He laughed. "First, you didn't inconvenience anyone. Second, Flynn's a big boy. He can handle it."

  She sighed, and her head pounded even worse.

  When they got to the room, he got out his key card, slipped it in the door lock, then pushed the door open, holding it so she could walk in. She flipped the light on and Barrett closed the door behind them.

  The room was really nice. It had a living room and a bedroom with two beds and a nice, oversized balcony.

  Barrett came up behind her, laying his fingers on her shoulders. "Tell me what you need."

  She took a deep breath and let it out. "Right now all I want is to put on my pajamas, crawl into bed and eat ice cream."

  Not a romantic thing to say, but it was how she felt.

  "Sure. Let's do that."

  She swiveled to face him. "You brought your jammies?"

  His lips curved. "No. But I could go for some ice cream. You order up what you want. Give me your key and tell me what you want from your room."

  She couldn't believe he'd be down for that, but she couldn't deny the idea appealed. "Okay."

  After he left, she kicked off her heels and sat on the bed, then called down to room service and asked for ice cream. When they asked her what flavor, she realized she hadn't asked Barrett what kind he liked, so she ordered several different kinds, from vanilla to chocolate to strawberry with all the fixings. And a couple hot fudge sundaes with whipped cream, along with a bottle of champagne.

  Because champagne went well with ice cream. At least that was her thought process right now.

  There was a knock at the door and she went to open it. It was Barrett, with her bag.

  He laid the bag down. She opened it and grabbed her pajamas. She turned to Barrett.

  "Unzip, please."

  "Gladly." The brush of his hands along her bare skin as he pulled her zipper down brought about an awareness that she didn't think she'd feel in her present mood. Though it shouldn't surprise her that his touch could evoke sensations of desire in her. He'd always had that effect.

  She dashed into the bathroom, washed the makeup off her face, changed into the blue cotton shorts and white tank top and put the dress on the hanger, then came out of the bathroom and hung her dress in his closet.

  Barrett had changed out of his suit and into a pair of gray sweats and a white T-shirt. He was on the sofa, remote in his hand.

  He patted the spot next to him on the sofa. "Come on."

  She came over and sat, pulling her legs up on the sofa.

  He handed her the remote. "Pick something to watch."

  "What if I want to watch a girl movie?"

  He arched a brow. "What's a girl movie?"

  "Something romantic."

  "You think guys don't like romance?"

  She shrugged, staring at the TV as she flipped through channels. "Right now I don't think I know anything about men."

  "I don't know about other guys, but I can tell you about me. I like sports, of course. Hot women, like you. Good food, good conversation and honesty."

  "Oh, you like honesty?"

  "Okay, you really want to get into this thing with Drake tonight?"

  "No. I don't. I already told you I get why you don't want to tell him about us. My brother is an overprotective pain in my ass. And the fact that he's your best friend just makes what you and I have together . . ."

  She didn't finish. She couldn't.

  "Complicated?"

  She let out a huff, still scrolling through channels without even looking at them. "Understatement."

  He took the remote from her hands and muted the sound. "Look at me."

  She did.

  "I know what we have is complicated. It's complicated as hell and I'm sorry about that. I wish it could be easy for us, but right now it isn't. Your brother is a hothead and he's protective about you. In some ways that's a good thing. I'll talk to him about us."

  This was new. "You will?"

  "Yes."

  "When?"

  "Soon. Let's get through training camp and I'll . . . find the right moment. You need to trust me to know when that right moment will be."

  "Okay."

  There was a knock on the door.

  "I'll get that," Barrett said.

  The room service waiter came in bearing a tray filled with all kinds of ice creams and toppings, not to mention the hot fudge sundaes and the champagne. When he left, Barrett slid a look in her direction.

  She shrugged. "I might have gotten carried away. The ice cream mind is a dangerous thing."

  One side of his mouth pulled up in a half smile. "So it seems. Let's dig in and see what kind of damage we can do."

  She went for the hot fudge sundae first, while Barrett mixed scoops of chocolate and vanilla ice cream in a bowl, then sprinkled in some M&M's.

  Harmony picked up the remote and found something they might both like--an action movie mixed in with a little romance.

  Barrett leaned back with his bowl. "This looks like a good one."

  They ate and watched the movie. After Barrett finished his ice cream, he popped open the champagne and poured it into two glasses. Harmony was cold after eating the ice cream, so she grabbed a blanket from the bedroom and laid it over both of them.

  They sipped champagne and argued about the movie.

  "This is ridiculous," she said. "She has to know he's only using her to get the information he needs."

  "But you can tell he cares about her and he feels really guilty about it."

  "Oh, and that makes it okay?"

  "In the movie world, yes. Plus, you know she'll make him pay for it in the end. They'll end up married and he'll spend the next forty years apologizing for lying to her about being a spy and not coming clean about who he was in the first place."

  She laughed. "Probably."

  At the end, there was a happily ever after--with a twist. It turned out the heroine was also a spy, and she'd been playing the hero as well.

  "Okay, that surprised me," Barrett said. "Did you pick up on her being a spy?"

  Harmony shook her head. "Not at all. So maybe she'll be the one continuing to apologize for the next forty years."

  He laughed. "Or maybe they'll end up even."

  "Could be."

  Barrett gathered up their bowls and laid them on the tray, then wheeled it out to the hallway and called room service to pick it up.

  "Tired yet?" he asked as he refilled her glass.

  "Not yet. I think I'm still riding that sugar high from the ice cream."

  "We could get dressed and take a walk."

  She picked up her phone. "It's after midnight. How about we step out on the balcony instead?"

  "Sure."

  He opened the slider and they walked outside. It was warm, but that breeze she'd felt earlier at the club was still present. There were two chairs out here, but all she wanted to do was stand, lean against the railing and look at the lights of the city.

  "Beautiful out here."

  Barrett came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "Yeah."

  She leaned against him and put her hands on his forearms. "Nothing like your ranch, though. It must have been amazing to grow up with all that space."

  "We didn't spend all our growing-up years there, but the time we had sure was fun. Lots of space to run around and get dirty."

  She laughed. "I imagine that for boys it was a great deal of fun. Plus riding horses, driving the trucks around all that land."

  "Mucking out stalls, working cattle . . . it wasn't exactly all play all the time. Dad made us work, too. Nothing fun comes without hard work attached."

  "A lesson we all have to learn."

  They both went quiet, until he leaned his head against hers.

  "I'm sorry about everything tonight."

&
nbsp; "Not your fault that one guy thought he had the right to put his hands on me, and that my brother can't seem to keep himself out of my business. I had it handled."

  "I know you did. And you were walking away when Drake decided to get involved."

  She looked out over the clear night sky. "I wish I understood Drake's motivations."

  "I have a younger sister, Harmony. I do understand the need to protect. But I also trust Mia to handle herself. We all know she can, and that she wouldn't hesitate to call on any of us if she needed to. It doesn't mean we don't keep a watchful eye on her, or that we don't worry she won't make the right choices."

  "Right."

  "But the difference between Drake and me is that he's felt that pressure to be your protector because you didn't have a father in your life to do the job. So maybe he feels the need to always be there for you, even if you might not want him to be. He's having a hard time letting go of the little girl who needed him all those years ago."

  She had long ago pushed the past aside. Maybe Barrett was right and Drake hadn't yet let go of their past. "You might be right about that. I give him such a hard time about being overprotective, but maybe I don't understand where he's coming from."

  She needed to spend some time talking with Drake, to come to an understanding with him.

  But not right now. Not when she was so angry with him.

  Barrett moved his hands over her shoulders, massaging away the tension from the night.

  This was what she needed to focus on. She and Barrett were finally alone, and she needed to make good use of their time. She focused on the movements of his hands on her body, the way he used his fingers to expertly find the knots in her shoulders and melt away all the stress.

  She tilted her head forward. "Mmm, that feels good. I like your hands on me."

  He smoothed his hands over her shoulders, pressing in, then releasing as he made his way down her arms to the very tips of her fingers before gliding back up again.

  Who knew that Barrett touching her fingers, elbows and shoulders could be so sensual?

  "More."

  "Where do you want me?" he asked.

  She let out a soft laugh. "That's a loaded question."

  He came around to face her, then backed her up against the wall of the terrace. His warm breath sailed across her cheek.

  "Here?" he asked, his lips brushing hers so lightly it felt like the caress of a feather.

  She drew in a breath. "Yes."

  "Or here." His tongue left a blazing trail across her neck, making her shiver despite the heat and humidity that still clung to the night.

  She grasped his shoulders, letting him know by digging in her nails that she very much liked the direction he was going.