Denton shrugged. "Bran can be difficult at times."
She nodded with sympathy. "Men. Can't live with them, can't bury them under the porch. What's the matter? Maybe I can impart you my wisdom."
"Aren't you single?"
"At the moment, but I date. Plenty enough. Trust me, I know men."
Denton opened his mouth, but he immediately realized he couldn't breath a word of Peter or the frog business. Joy knew only so much about Bran's past and talents, and this secret wasn't Denton's to share. So he course-corrected. "What do you think of kilts?"
She grinned. "They are hawt. More than shorts. I'm not sure why. Probably because they make your imagination run wild wondering what's under, and hoping for a stray gust of wind. It must be like in the old times when women were so bundled up a glimpse of an ankle drove men crazy. I bet Gerard Butler in a kilt is ten times sexier than Gerard Butler naked."
Denton hadn't expected such a thorough reply. "You have paid some thought to this before, haven't you?"
(Dead Man and the Army of Frogs)