Dax shifts beside me, uncomfortable at hearing LJ’s pet name for me.
I blow out a tired breath. “LJ, what are you doing here?”
“Well, when we discussed the gala at dinner on Friday night, I thought it made sense to get my new tux ready,” LJ says, straightening the cuffs of his shirt. “Have you started looking for a dress, sweetheart?”
“LJ, I never said we were going together,” I say, hating having these two guys standing off in front of me.
LJ puffs a laugh. “Oh, darling, I’m used to getting your last-minute invitations. Heck, it happened at the last school dance.”
“So, what?” Dax cuts in. “You just sit around waiting for the phone to ring?”
I rub my lips together, hiding the laugh bursting to escape.
As Dax fiddles with the collar of his shirt, LJ fixates on Dax’s hand tattoo. I can only imagine the assumptions running through LJ’s mind. I also hope he notices the veins on the back of Dax’s hand, which show how powerful it becomes as a fist. Knowing LJ, he’ll mouth off something snarky. And I really don’t want Dax getting into trouble in a place my dad and brother often visit.
Ralph returns with another crisp dress shirt for Dax to try on. “This will be a better fit.”
Dax hesitates. “I think I’m good.”
Superiority flashes in Ralph’s eyes. “Trust me. You’re not.”
“Just try it,” I gently suggest to Dax.
Dax’s eyes slide in LJ’s direction. From the side of his mouth, he mutters, “Are you okay being here?”
“Mm-hmm.”
When Ralph places the hanger on a nearby hook, Dax undoes the buttons on his shirt and tugs it off. As if he’s locked on target mode, LJ zeroes in on the scorpion tattoo. Thank goodness the undershirt hides Dax’s other tattoos, or LJ’s eye might pop out of his skull.
I’m relieved when Dax tries on the new shirt.
“Ralph,” I say, straightening my posture. “You can move on to helping LJ if you like. We can wait until he leaves.”
“I’m happy to wait,” LJ interjects.
Ralph brushes his hands over Dax’s shoulders. “No. I never stop midway through a fitting. Besides, Felipe is working with Mr. Prescott.”
“Oh,” I say, scanning the room for Felipe.
LJ smirks. “He’s out back looking for a high-grade material for the lining of my jacket.”
“Well, we won’t keep you,” I say, nudging my head toward the other fitting area.
“Trying to get rid of me, sweetheart?”
Dax looks over his shoulder, glaring at LJ. “You gotta stop calling her that.”
LJ folds his arms, sporting a smug smile. “Is that so?”
“Yes. She hates it.”
LJ smirks. “I think I know what Vanessa likes a little more than you do.”
“You really are deluded,” Dax says as Ralph folds his collar, which I can only imagine is steaming right now.
LJ sees red. “Excuse me?”
Ralph steps back, admiring Dax’s frame, seemingly oblivious to the fight about to break out in the fitting area. “Ah, see, I told you it’d be a better fit.” He then pats down his shirt front, looking for his measuring tape. He excuses himself to find it, leaving the three of us to stew in the awkwardness.
