Seeing how uncomfortable she looked, Richard backpedaled as fast as he could. Obviously he had come across wrong. "I didn't mean that you wouldn't look good in them!" he said. "You would! I mean... That sounded kind of creepy, didn't it? I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that Fred Flinstone has no right to have a sexy costume designed after him. And neither do nuns... I mean, all women have the right, but..."
He shut up, looked at her, and waved a hand. "If you could just forget everything I said for the past minute, that would be great. I'm going to go bury my head in that rack of paisley shirts and pretend that I'm a socially adept human being." He pointed across, hoping that he wasn't blushing. Usually he was a little more able to stop himself from sounding so awkward and ridiculous. Why was this woman throwing him off so badly?