Anya laughed, then shot Katrina a look of pure devilish delight.

It was a good thing she knew they’d never get physical with each other, or her sister would be in deep trouble.

After lunch everyone scattered to rest up before what everyone had now dubbed the first annual Cassidy football tournament to the death.

Or until everyone got tired, or until Lydia decided enough was enough. Whichever came first.

“They call it the first annual,” Lydia said to her as they all marched out to a clearing behind one of the barns. “But honestly, they’ve been doing this for years. Someone will get their ego in a knot over something, and then it’s a free-for-all.”

“And you’re not worried one of them will get hurt?”

“Not really. They’re all athletes, all in shape, and I think they know their limits as far as how much they can hurt themselves—and each other. They have professional careers to watch out for and none of them will put any of their brothers’ careers in jeopardy. It’s all in good fun.”

Katrina wasn’t so sure about that. With all the guys dressed in shorts and sleeveless shirts, the muscles on display were impressive. And they were all incredibly tall. They all looked fierce and prepared to kill their opponents. Even Easton was still in amazing shape for a man she guessed had to be in his mid-fifties. She supposed working a ranch kept a man in good shape.

Which was no doubt why Lydia had that gleam in her eye.

And in the middle of that mix of giants and testosterone was her brother, who looked so small in comparison.

As if Lydia could read her mind, she said, “They’ll protect Leo, so don’t you worry. They’d never put him in harm’s way. They’ll mostly pound on each other.”

Which meant Grant could take a pounding.

Not that she thought Grant couldn’t hold his own, because standing out there in the field, sweat soaked and looking just as determined as his brothers, she was convinced he’d be victorious. But she couldn’t help the tiny feeling of trepidation that had crept in.

She didn’t want him to get hurt. And there was a small voice inside of her—call it competitive spirit—that really wanted to shout to him to kick his brothers’ asses.

A voice she decided would be prudent to keep silent. But when Grant came over to where they were sitting to grab a bottled water from the cooler, she went over to him, grasped his arm. “You’ll watch out for Leo?”

He smiled at her. “Of course. He’s not going to get hurt.”

“Okay. And Grant? Kick their asses.”

He grinned. “I intend to.” He gave her a quick kiss, which caused his brothers to whistle at him. He rolled his eyes, then headed back out on the makeshift field.

Katrina pulled up one of the chairs they’d brought out to the field. She and Lydia, Mia, and Anya had taken seats under a group of trees in the shade and sipped glasses of lemonade from the jug Lydia had prepared.

It looked like Easton, Barrett, and Leo were going to be on one team, and Grant, Flynn, and Tucker on the other.

They flipped a coin, and Easton’s team would have the ball first. After a quick huddle, Easton dropped back and threw, but Leo missed the catch.

Leo was disappointed, too. She could tell from the way his chin dropped to his chest.

“You’ll get the next one, kid,” Easton said, slapping him on the back. “Even the best receivers drop passes.”

“Dad’s right,” Grant said. “Brush it off and go after the next one.”

“Hey,” Tucker said. “Quit talking him up. He’s the enemy right now. Drop another one, Leo.”

That made Leo smile, and then it was back to the game.

After a series of downs, Easton’s side turned the ball over. Grant had the ball next, and as soon as he dropped back he threw a long pass to Tucker. Flynn and Barrett crashed into each other in an awful collision, and Tucker caught the pass for what Katrina assumed was a touchdown.

“Ha!” Tucker said, slamming the ball to the ground. “In your faces, all of you.”

“That’s only because you had me as protection,” Flynn said. “Without me, Barrett would have flattened you.”

“Whatever.” Tucker calmly walked back to the huddle. “Face it. I’m better than all of you. At any sport.”

Grant shook his head, then looked over at Barrett. “Even though he’s on my team, you have my permission to turn him into a pancake the next time he has the ball.”

Barrett nodded. “Consider it done.”

Tucker just laughed, but on the next play, Barrett did just that, slamming Tucker to the ground.