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seven o’clock on a Thursday night, and she wasn’t expecting anyone.
    â€œDaddy, I need to go. Someone’s at the door.”
    â€œMake sure to check the peephole. I love you.”
    â€œLove you, too,” she replied before disconnecting the call.
    She reached the front door and, heeding her father’s advice, leaned up to peer out the peephole. She blinked a couple of times, certain she was seeing things because it looked like Nick Priest stood on the other side of the threshold.
    He raised his fist and banged on the door again, and she jerked in surprise.
Why is Nick here?
She hadn’t seen him for a couple of years.
    Her first thought was something was wrong with Quinn,but then she discarded that idea because she’d just been on the phone with her dad. If something had happened to her older brother, he would have told her immediately.
    After unchaining the lock, she disengaged the deadbolt and pulled open the door. “Nick, what are you doing here?” she exclaimed, reaching up to give him a hug. “I’m so happy to see you!”
    He hugged her back, a light squeeze like he always gave her, and she leaned back to look at him. God, he was gorgeous. He must have sold his soul to the devil, because no one could be so handsome just by the luck of the draw.
    He smiled down at her, his even, white teeth flashing against his bronzed skin. Golden stubble covered his lower face, and his light green eyes sparkled. His hair was almost down to his shoulders, so blond it was the color of corn silk.
    â€œI can’t believe your hair.” She tugged on a strand. “You look like you should be on the cover of a romance novel or in a pirate movie. Arrgh.”
    Laughing softly, he cocked his head toward the interior of her condo. “Inside.”
    She stepped back and waved him in, enjoying the view as he walked ahead of her. Yes, Nick was Quinn’s best friend, and no, he’d never once shown any interest in her as anything other than his best friend’s little sister.
    But that didn’t mean she was blind. The man was physically perfect, at least in her opinion. And his choice in jeans was perfect, too. She got a weird thrill as she saw her last name sewn on the fabric hugging his butt.
    She pulled her gaze from his tight behind and ogled his broad shoulders, which were covered in a plain black T-shirt. Too bad it wasn’t tighter. She wouldn’t mind seeing some hard muscles outlined in soft cotton.
    He stopped near the kitchen, his nose twitching like a rabbit’s. Crossing her arms over her chest, she raised her eyebrows.
    â€œLet me guess . . . you want me to share my brownies?”
    His only response was a smile. She’d known this man for more than a decade, since Quinn had brought him home from college the summer between their freshman and sophomore years. Over time, Teagan and Nick had figured out a way to communicate even though he barely talked.
    At first, she’d thought Nick was shy. She had been sure he’d warm up once he got to know her and her family. But eventually she realized he wasn’t shy at all. He just didn’t like to talk.
    His silence didn’t bother her. She’d grown up with two brothers who talked too much, and it was kind of nice to be around someone who listened more than he talked.
    Beckoning him into the kitchen, she headed over to the stove, where the brownies were cooling. She grabbed the knife, and as she cut two big pieces, Nick came up behind her and leaned over her shoulder.
    He was focused completely on the brownies, and she would bet her last dollar he didn’t even realize he was pressed so tightly against her she could feel the heat from his chest and his breath against her hair. He might be oblivious, but she noticed.
    Teagan wasn’t ashamed to admit she found Nick attractive. Heck, every female who had gone through puberty felt a little quiver of longing when faced with his