“You’re telling me you’re not worried about your daughter hanging around with six boys with dubious reputations? And dating one of them who looks at your daughter with…that look?”

My brow creased. “What look?”

“Oh, please,” Aunt M scoffed. “That look. And not to mention that smile. Hungry,” she growled the word, “and hot enough to make a nun’s panties spontaneously combust.”