“Please don’t,” she pleas, and July’s eyes narrow on her over her shoulder.

“You’re not going to sit under this table and feel sorry for yourself,” she snaps. “You are going to go out there and let him see exactly what he’s missing out on.”

“Has he tried to talk to you since then?” April asks suddenly, and Harmony pulls her wide eyes from July to look at her.

“No.” She shakes her head.

“So he hasn’t called you at all?” April’s eyes narrow and Harmony looks away shrugging.

“He’s called a few times, but I haven’t answered.”

“Hmm,” she hums, then smiles her smile that screams trouble and grabs Harmony’s hand, tugging her toward her. “Like July said, you are not going to sit under the table like a weirdo. You are going to go out there and have fun.”

“July didn’t call me a weirdo.” Harmony mutters under her breath as she’s dragged out behind April.

“I don’t think tonight is going to end well for her,” Willow whispers, watching July, April, and Harmony crawl out from under the table before looking at me, smiling. “I’m so happy for you.” Wrapping her arms around me quickly, she leans back, bonking her head and grumbling something I can’t understand before crawling out behind everyone else. Looking around the now empty space, I shake my head and feel a smile spread across my face. Only in my family would a serious conversation be had under a table at a packed bar.

“Get the fuck down now.”

Pulling my gaze from Harmony, who is singing along with me to “Keep Your Hands to Yourself,” I look down and see a red-faced Harlen glaring up at her, and then notice Dillon standing next to him with his arms crossed over his chest and his lips twitching into a smile.

“You’re here,” I shout, jumping from the top of the bar and into his arms, hearing him grunt as I wrap myself around him.

“I don’t think dancing on bars is something you’d do with me watching,” he mutters, and I giggle, tucking my face into his neck.

“I wasn’t dancing. I was singing.” I lift my head to look at him then grin over his shoulder as I watch Harlen pull a reluctant Harmony off the bar, throw her over his shoulder, and smack her ass when she kicks her feet to be put down. My cousin may think he didn’t like the kiss but I know for sure she’s wrong. Since the moment Harlen’s eyes landed on Harmony tonight he’s been watching her like a hawk.

“How drunk are you?”

My eyes focus back on Dillon’s and I shrug. “Drunk, but not so drunk I’ll end up married again.” I smile, and he mouths the word nut while carrying me toward the back table, taking a seat. “Where’s Parker?” I ask, finding Cara sitting with June and Evan, chatting.

“Home with the boys, who are currently passed out after having too much fun at your parents’ house.”

“I didn’t even think to search you for bullet wounds,” I joke, and he smiles.

“Not necessary. It wasn’t a setup, just dinner.”

“Did you have a good time?” I ask, and he nods.

“It was good,” he says, and I yawn, covering my mouth. “We should go soon.”

“Oh, I’m not ready to leave,” I inform him with a shake of my head, trying to pull away, and he laughs, holding me closer.

“You may not be ready to leave, but the bar is closing in about thirty minutes, which means you’ll be kicked out if you don’t.”

“Is it really that late already?” I ask, and he nods again.

“It’s really that late.”

“Tonight was fun,” I inform him, resting my head on his shoulder, and his hand moves to the back of my neck.

“I’m glad, baby,” I hear him murmur, right before I fall asleep smiling.

*

Taking a sip of coffee, I rest the cup on my knees tucked close to my chest and stare out at the backyard. It’s still early enough that the sun hasn’t quite warmed the earth, and the dew covering the ground is making the grass look like it’s been sprinkled with glitter as the light shines down on it. Thankfully, I don’t have a headache this morning, but I do feel a little bit out of it after staying out so late.

Tilting my head back when the sliding door opens, I watch Dillon step out onto the back patio, wearing loose sweats and a T-shirt with his hair a mess, like he’s ran his hand through it a million times this morning. “I’ve been looking for you. I thought you’d be in bed. It’s still early,” he mutters, bending to kiss my forehead, and my eyes slide closed.

“I couldn’t get back to sleep after I woke up.” Taking my cup of coffee from me, he sets it on the ledge of the gas fireplace then pulls me up out of the chair. Taking the seat I was just in, he tugs me down onto him then leans forward, grabbing the mug and handing it back to me.

“Why couldn’t you go back to sleep?” he asks, kissing the side of my head once he’s adjusted us both.

“You weren’t there,” I admit, resting my head on his shoulder. “The bed always feels too big when you’re not in it with me.”

“Sorry, baby.” His lips touch my neck, making me shiver. “I got a phone call and didn’t want to wake you.”

“It’s Saturday.” I frown, and his arms around me tighten briefly.

“I know, which is why I was hoping you’d still be in bed when I got back to you.”