Then, abruptly, he pulled off the road onto a grassy patch beneath the oak trees, rocked the car to a halt and set the emergency brake.

“What are you doing?” she asked in confusion, wondering if something was wrong with his car. Surely, Emily couldn’t have sabotaged them both.

But he turned in his seat, draping his arm across the back of hers. “Spill, Jenny. What’s wrong?”

His abrupt question took her by surprise. But she quickly regrouped. “I’m tired and I want to go home.” That was definitely part of the truth.

“You’ve been acting weird all night,” he pressed.

“I have not.” She folded her hands primly on her lap.

“You didn’t even dance with me.”

The accusation in his voice made her own tone rise along with her blood pressure. She spoke past a clenched jaw. “You didn’t even ask.”

“I had to ask?” he retorted.

“It’s kind of traditional.”

“Like you needed extra partners,” he scoffed.

She turned to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means-” he gestured with one hand “-the way you’re dressed tonight, there was a line around the block.”

“Nice that some people noticed.”

His eyes glittered in the dash lights, and there was a long moment of tense silence. When he spoke, his voice was a throaty rasp. “You think I didn’t notice?”

Jenny wasn’t sure how to answer that. If he’d noticed, he’d done a darn good job of hiding it.

“You think I didn’t notice?” he repeated, louder this time, crowding her.

Was the car getting smaller?

“You didn’t say anything,” she pointed out, fighting the urge to shrink back against the door.

“What, exactly, was it that you wanted me to say?” He leaned closer still, and a few beats of silence ticked past. “That your eyes look like emeralds without your glasses? That you have unbelievably sexy legs? That you should show off more often, by the way.”

The front of his shoulder brushed the tip of hers, and Jenny swallowed against the electric sensation that passed between them.