Chapter Two

Blair

Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but a towel, I stare at my reflection. My mind jumps back and forth with indecision. What should I wear? Should I go to the barbeque or not? I've always longed to be invited to something like this, but fear has me wanting to crawl into bed and sleep until Monday. Maybe I should just forget about the offer. Why would he invite me anyway?

My thoughts are scattered as my cell rings in the quiet of my home, making me jump. Luther, my cat, gives me the side eye from his spot in the center of my bed as I stare at the screen without answering.

Dax.

His name flashes across the screen. Taking a deep breath, I answer before it can stop ringing.

"Hello?" it comes out as a question even though that isn't what I intended.

"Hey, pretty girl," his husky voice caresses my ear.

I don't reply. Hell, I'm not even sure I'm breathing.

"Blair?" he asks. "Are you there?"

"Yes," I say in a whisper.

"What's wrong?" he asks sounding concerned.

"Um."

"Maybe I can help," Dax replies and I know he is only trying to be supportive.

"I don't know what to wear," I reply. Because apparently, I've made up my mind in the last twenty seconds and I will be going to the barbeque.

"Well, that's easy," he chuckles. "What are you wearing now? I'm sure it will be perfect."

"A towel," I blurt out. My cheeks instantly flame in embarrassment. I do not know how to do any of this, especially not with him.

"Fuck," Dax says lowly.

I hear a scuffle in the background before a new voice speaks into my ear.

"Hi, Blair. It's Holden. Just wear whatever you're comfortable in. It's just a couple of friends having a beer or two so no need to dress up."

"Okay," I croak out.

I don't have any friends so he must be talking about their friends. I know everyone in town, but I never spend time with other people. I am a loner, by every definition of the word.

"We'll see you in an hour, Little Dove," Holden replies before ending the call.

What the heck am I supposed to do for an hour? I never take that long to get ready. The message Dax sent earlier says six o'clock and it's twenty minutes to six now. They are probably used to women who take forever to get ready, but I've never been that girl. I can't spend an hour fixing my hair and makeup. If I do, I will absolutely talk myself out of going tonight and I really don't want to mess this up.

Dropping my cell on the vanity, I open my cupboard while I gather all the courage I have. I am going. I am going to welcome them all back home and enjoy my night. I might even have fun.

****

Ford

We all stood in the lounge as Dax called Blair. We couldn't hear the conversation because we didn't want to invade her privacy by having her on speakerphone without her knowing, but both Holden and I instantly saw the change in Dax's demeanor.

I have no idea what she said to him but he was gripping his phone so hard I think it may have cracked. After finally getting it from Dax, Holden finished the conversation while Dax sat on the couch with his head in his hands.

"What did she say to you?" I ask when he seems to have finally calmed down.

"She couldn't decide what to wear." He looks up at the two of us, his gaze filled with an emotion I've never seen and can't place, but I think it may be longing. "I asked what she was wearing because I was sure it would be perfect no matter what." He stops and rubs his hand down his face. "She wasn't wearing anything. Just a towel."

"Shit," Holden hisses. "And she just said it like that?"

"I don't think she meant to," Dax says. "But now I can't think of anything else."

"Agreed," I say as I rub my temples. "The idea of her in nothing but a towel will remain with me forever."

"Well," Holden says. "We need to take a breath and be on our best behavior tonight. Put it out of your mind."

"Easier said than done."