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.