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It’s hovering somewhere between cute and creepy because she has the most adorable little grin she shoots my way whenever I catch her looking. Crow’s-feet appear at the corners of her eyes, and her cheeks flush just a little.
    I think she might have a crush on me.
    Again, hovering between cute and creepy.
    “Aunt Ada. Will you please stop looking at him like he’s dessert?” Leah sighs, taking Ada’s plate from in front of her.
    “Stop hooking up with Bert? Whoever is Bert?” Ada replies, looking genuinely confused.
    I quirk my eyebrow, and Grace leans across the table. “Hearing aid, Ada.”
    The old woman blinks then slips her hand into her pocket. She pulls out a small, nude-colored device and fits it to her ear. “Now, Lele, what was that you were saying about hooking up with Bert?”
    Lele?
    Leah catches my eye and gives me a death stare. “I didn’t say anything about Bert. I asked you to stop looking at Corey like he’s dessert.”
    “He isn’t?”
    I cough into my hand.
    “Ada, it’s late. I think you should, perhaps, go to bed now.” Grace winks at me and stands.
    “But we haven’t danced.”
    “People don’t dance at dinner now, Aunt Ada,” Leah tells her. “They eat, they drink, they go home.”
    “Well, how boring. You young’uns don’t know how to have a good time.”
    Grace swoops Ada out of the kitchen with her still muttering about “kids today.”
    “Oh, they do,” Leah murmurs, loading the dishwasher. “They just don’t invite old people along.”
    I grin. “Do you need any help?”
    She shakes her head instead of answering me verbally. She hasn’t said a fucking word to me since she rebuffed my offer of a date. Even through dinner, she managed to contribute to the conversation without directing a single sentence at me.
    And it’s slowly starting to really, really piss me off.
    I watch as she scrapes the plates into the trash then bends over and puts them in the dishwasher. Her dress rides up her legs, the hem hovering at the very top of her thighs. If she bends over another half inch, her underwear will be fully exposed to me. So will her ass, and if she’s that kind of girl, maybe her pussy, too.
    My cock twitches at the thought. Fuck—I want to go over there and see. I want to flick that stupid fucking dress up and see what kind of underwear she wears, and if that doesn’t make me hard imagining it…
    “Are you staring at my ass?” she asks, her words slicing through the silence easily but sharply.
    “On a scale of one to ten, how honestly do you want me to answer that?”
    “Very honestly.”
    My eyes coast over her smooth skin. “About a fifty.”
    She slams the dishwasher shut and turns. “Seriously? Is me telling you to cut the crap an open invitation to ogle me?”
    “No, but you wearing a dress that short and bendin’ over is.”
    Her lips thin. “And you wonder why I won’t go out with you.”
    “Maybe I’m not bothered.”
    “Yeah?” She rests her hands flat on the table opposite me and leans over. “So why’ve you been looking at me all evening like I’m a math puzzle you can’t figure out?”
    “Because you confuse the fuck out of me.” I hold her gaze. “One night, you don’t want me. The next, you’re in my arms, fucking whimpering into my mouth. Then, not even twenty-four hours later, you’re tellin’ me where to go. That’s why I keep looking at you.” My eyes drop to her tits. “That and you’re hot as hell.”
    She stares at me until I bring my eyes back up to hers. “Wow. And that right there is why I just told you no when you asked me out.” She pushes off the table and stalks away from me.
    She pushes off the table and stalks away from me.
    “What the hell are you so mad for?” I get up and follow her out to the backyard. “You’re the one sending me more mixed messages than I can keep up with!”
    “Then this is the last one!” she yells, turning to face me. “No. That’s the message, Corey, all right? I