Amelia looked over the teams as they all put their shirts on. Flynn and Barrett were on Grant’s team. Tucker was on Easton’s team. Two of Easton’s brothers, Elijah and Eddie, were on his team. His other brother, Eldon, was on Grant’s team.

   “They don’t really pick by favorites, do they?” Amelia asked.

   “Nah. They just switch it up every year. For example, last year Flynn and Barrett were on Dad’s team and Tucker was on Grant’s. So this year they swapped. Same with all the family friends and neighbors. Dad and Grant know exactly who was on whose team last year and they just swap. And whoever got picked first last year? They get chosen last this year. That way no one gets their feelings hurt.”

   “I see. And it keeps things fair that way.”

   “Right. It’s just for fun. Until they start playing. Then it’s no-holds-barred, at least to a certain extent. Flynn, Barrett and Grant have games this weekend and everyone knows that. No one wants them to get hurt.”

   Amelia looked over at Flynn, who had hiked up his sweats and was currently getting ready for his dad’s team to have the ball.

   “I don’t know. Flynn looks like he’s tougher than a lot of these guys here. And Barrett looks huge and mean, too.”

   “Oh, they are. And they know it. Which is why they all gang up on these guys.”

   Amelia laughed. “Should I be concerned for Flynn’s safety?”

   “No. Like I said, they’ll go after him, but no one wants him to get hurt. They root for him every weekend.”

   Before she knew it, Easton had hiked the ball. She held her breath as Flynn rushed off the line. He was covered by a swarm of tall, farmhand-type boys who were about ten years younger than he was, and taken to the ground. She was certain Flynn was at the bottom of that pile.

   People were cheering, Amelia had no idea where the ball was or who had it because she was concentrating on that Flynn pile. And when they all got up, there was Flynn, laughing, taking the hand that was extended to him by one of the boys.

   “Your ass is mine next time, Bennett.”

   One of the kids, tall and muscular, shot Flynn a smirk. “Good luck trying, Cassidy.”

   Then it all started over again. This time Flynn got the best of the kid, shoving him out of the way and getting so close to his father that Amelia thought for sure Flynn was going to pile drive Easton right into the ground. But Flynn only grabbed his father around his middle, then the play was blown dead.

   Easton patted Flynn on the head. “Do it just like that this weekend, kid.”

   Flynn grinned. “You know I will.”

   Amelia must have held her breath for the entire hour the game was played, until Lydia said it was time for lunch.

   Then everyone filed into the house, hands and faces were washed and plates were loaded with food. The guys, of course, piled their plates high, no doubt having worked up appetites with all that game play.

   Flynn threw an arm around her shoulders. “So, what did you think?”

   “I think you’re all crazy. But it was so much fun to watch.”

   “Watch? Oh, no. Second half we bring the women in.”

   She laughed. “I don’t think so.”

   “He’s not kidding,” Aubry said. “They’re much gentler when we play.”

   Amelia looked from Aubry to Flynn, who nodded. “We really are. And if someone gets hurt, we have a doctor on board.”

   “This is true,” Aubry said, taking a bite of potato salad. “Providing you don’t lay the doctor flat.”

   “Would we do that?” Tucker asked.

   “Given half a chance, yes.” Aubry cast a shifty look toward Tucker.

   Amelia made sure to stock up on protein over lunch. She was certain she was going to need it.

   “I’m not sure what position I’m going to be any good at,” she said as she and Flynn sat outside at one of the picnic tables and ate.

   He leaned over and whispered to her, “You’re excellent at every position you’ve played with me.”

   She laughed, then nudged her shoulder against his. “I meant football.”

   “Oh, did you? My bad.”

   After lunch they realigned the teams with women included. Lydia begged off claiming a bad knee, but otherwise, all the other women were on board.

   Amelia found herself playing wide receiver, hoping she could actually catch the ball if it was thrown at her. She was also on the same team as Tucker and Easton, which meant she was playing against Flynn. She was determined to ignore his presence, because the last thing she wanted was Flynn tackling her.

   Unless it was in the bedroom.

   She lined up in her position. She was told this was a running play, so she wouldn’t get the ball. All she had to do was block Mia, who was playing for the other team.

   Mia was smaller than her. She was certain she could do that.

   At the snap, she ran and pushed into Mia, who might be shorter than her, but she was tough. They went toe-to-toe, shoving against each other in one hell of a battle. When the play ended, both of them were winded.

   “Okay, you’re strong,” Amelia said.

   Mia grinned. “I have to be with these guys around. Plus, lifting weights and yoga pay off.”

   “I’m making a mental note of that.”

   She held her own for the next several plays, until Easton told her in the huddle that she was getting the ball, so she should go long and wait for it.

   She really hoped she didn’t embarrass the Cassidy family by totally missing it. Or even worse, tripping and falling.

   She pushed off at the snap and brushed past one of the neighborhood women whose name she didn’t recall. At least she had that part down. She ran as fast as she could, turned and, holy crap, there was the ball. It landed in her hands and she outran the guy chasing her and ended up at the end zone.

   Suddenly there were cheers, and she caught sight of Easton and Tucker, both of them with their arms up in the air.

   She’s scored a touchdown. Holy shit.

   Even Flynn came over and hoisted her in his arms.

   “You did it, babe,” he said. “You scored.”

   She felt exhilarated. No wonder athletes loved playing. This felt really damn good.

   She grinned, then pulled herself out of the game so someone else could play. She took a seat next to Lydia, who handed her a glass of lemonade. She savored several long swallows.

   “You played well.”

   Amelia laughed. “I am not an athlete. But it was fun. And I scored. That’s one for the memory books.”