After staring at myself in the bathroom mirror for much longer than I should have, I took in a deep breath and slowly let it out.
“Just try to have fun and stop reading into every little thing,” I whispered.
I made my way back down the path, stepped into the barn, and searched for Brock. He wasn’t where he’d been standing a few minutes ago. It didn’t take me long to find him, though. He was dancing with a pretty young blonde. She smiled up at him, and he smiled down at her as he spun them around on the dance floor like they had danced with each other dozens of times.
My heart instantly dropped to my stomach, but I tried like hell to pretend the sight of Brock dancing with someone else didn’t bother me. After all, I was the one who’d told him to go dance, hadn’t I?
Another quick look around, and I found a makeshift bar.
“Excuse me. Pardon me. I’m sorry,” I said as I pushed my way through the crowd.
When I finally made it to the bar, I smiled at Dirk.
“Part-timing it as a bartender?” I shouted over the live band playing on the other side of the barn.
Dirk took one look at me and smiled. “Hey, city girl! Yeah, my parents put me as the barkeep to keep me out of trouble. You enjoying yourself?”
“Just got here.”
He nodded. “Well, the party did just start. What can I get you?”
“Anything that has the word beer in it.”
He winked. “My kind of girl. You come with Brock?”
My grin faltered. “Um, yeah.”
Dirk’s gaze drifted past me to the dance floor. He didn’t seem to react at all when he saw Brock dancing.
I forced a smile and asked, “Y’all get much downtime when you’re traveling?”
Dirk turned, grabbed a Miller Lite, and set it in front of me. “Yeah, we get some downtime.”
“What do you do?”
He shrugged. “A little bit of this, a little bit of that.”
I laughed. “Okay, that was vague.”
“Keeps the mystery alive, little lady. Want to dance?” he asked, stepping out from behind the bar.
“Who’s going to tend bar in your place if you’re out on the dance floor?”
“Ah, hell, anyone can help themselves. I mostly stand back there for free drinks.”
Dirk took my hand and led the way—only to have Brock step in front of us before we even touched a toe to the dance floor.
“What’s going on?” he asked. His eyes filled with something that resembled anger as he stared at his best friend.
“We’re headed out to dance.”
Brock stepped in between us. “I don’t think so.”
My eyes widened as I watched the two men stare at each other like they were in a pissing contest. The fact that Brock wasn’t letting me dance with Dirk really made me mad.
“Um, I’m not sure who made you the boss of me, Brock, but Dirk asked me to dance, and I said yes. Besides, you were dancing.”
“With my cousin.”
His cousin?
My eyes darted around until I found the blonde. She was currently sucking face with some other guy while they dirty-danced on the dance floor.
Looking back at him, I said, “Well, I still don’t see why I can’t dance with Dirk.”
Drawing his brows in tight, Brock took a step back. “You want to dance with him? Go right ahead.” He turned and walked through the crowd of people and out of the barn.
“What in the hell just happened?” I asked as I watched him round the corner.
“That would be Brock, pissed off and jealous,” Dirk stated with a frown. “Hadn’t seen that side of him in a while.”
I shook my head. “What do you mean, pissed off and jealous? Of what?”
Dirk stared at me for a brief moment and then shook his head. “It’s my fault, really. I knew he was interested in you, and I probably shouldn’t have asked you to dance, but it seemed harmless enough.”
Now I was really confused. “But, why would you asking me to dance be a bad thing?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Dirk shrugged. “That’s just Brock. I mean, we have a complicated history between us because of . . .” His words faded off. “He knows I didn’t mean anything by asking you to dance. I think he feels guilty with himself because he likes you.”
“He likes me? As a friend, you mean?”
Dirk tossed his head back and laughed. “Darlin’, if you can’t see the way he looks at you, then you might need glasses. Brock is my best friend. I know him better than he knows himself. Trust me when I say, he wants to be more than friends with you.”
I blew out a breath. “Should I go talk to him?”
He gave me a wink. “That is up to you.”
With a smile, I said, “Sorry about the dance.”
Holding up his hands, he laughed. “Plenty of other pretty little things to dance with.”