Page 109 of Simon Says

He turned to her. “Have you felt any?”

“Well…no. But I can’t believe—”

“The pickin’s are too slim here.” He swiveled around to face the bar again, downed his drink, and signaled for the bartender to give him another. “I think it’s time I got out of Harmony.”

Dakota took the liberty of sending the bartender away before he could refill Barber’s glass. “I think it’s time you stopped drinking.”

“Maybe.” Scrubbing a hand through his hair, then over his face, he groaned. “So what’s up with you, darlin’? Did you take Roger up on his offer to perform here?”

“I’m going to. At least for a few weeks.” He looked so morose that Dakota shouldered him playfully. “Roger said you extended your contract, too. I was hoping we could make it an act.”

“You don’t need me.”

The way he said that, as if his words had a hidden, deeper meaning, gave Dakota pause. “Of course I do. I always have.”

“Nope. You’re the most independent, capable, smart, considerate—”

Good grief. Half laughing, she said, “That’s enough, Barber. Don’t saint me, okay?”

“You’re too sexy to be sainted.”

Dakota drew herself up. “What in the world is wrong with you?”

“Nothing new.” He grinned, and then leaned toward her.

Uncertain of his intent, especially given his odd mood, Dakota leaned out of reach.

But Barber kept coming, and if she leaned any farther away, she’d fall off her stool.

When he got close enough, he gave her a loud smooch on her surprised mouth, then touched her cheek. “You really are a doll.”

“No, I’m not. And until today, you never thought so.”

“Wrong.” He stood and stretched. “I’m not drunk, you know.”

“No?”

“You refused my second drink for me.”

Only his second? “Hmm. Sorry about that. I just assumed—”

“It’s okay. I sing better dead sober anyway.” He sent her an intense, probing inspection and held out a hand. “Let’s find someplace quieter to talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything you want.”

“All right.” Worried about him, Dakota took his hand and let him lead her to one of the smaller interior rooms of Roger’s Rodeo. At the early evening hour, the mechanical bull sat still and silent, and no one else intruded.

“You hungry?” Barber asked.

Her appetite still hadn’t returned, so she fibbed. “I ate before coming here.”

He pulled out a chair and straddled it. “I’ll be coming to the gym tomorrow.”

“Dean’s gym?”

“Yeah. Simon called me. He wants me to work with you some more.” One side of his mouth kicked up. “He wanted me to wait until he got back from Vegas, but why make it easy on him?”

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