“What’s wrong with jeans and a T-shirt?” Nick asked, stepping back with his left arm held out to the side so she could inspect his attire.
She glanced over him, noting how his jeans hugged his long legs. He had the sleeves of his gunmetal-gray, blue, and white plaid shirt rolled up past his elbows to reveal lean-muscled forearms. The top couple of buttons were left undone, revealing a tantalizing peek of his neck and collar bones. Her gaze traveled from there up his neck and along his jaw, taking in the long-familiar lines of him that had so suddenly and unexpectedly captured her notice, and when her pulse tripped, she quickly averted her gaze. Embarrassment again heated her face.
“But Michelle’s wearing a dress,” she said quietly, glancing at his girlfriend, who was just a little too be
