Still, seeing the boys bare chested was a pleasure. They were both tall, their muscles well defined. Andrew was darker, his skin already a golden tan, his hair flopping in his face as he caught a pass from one of her brothers. Luke tackled him. Hard. Both of them rolling onto the ground only to get up grinning, slapping each other’s arms and backs, laughing, though Luke had just tried to drive Andrew’s face into the grass.

Boys. So weird.

Her brothers were in on the action, and they’d taken off their shirts, as well, their skinny bodies all arms and legs and slight ridges of their ribs.

And they were filthy. Covered in dirt and sweat.

She considered, seriously considered, leaving them there so she wouldn’t have to deal with them, wouldn’t have to try to convince four stinking, overexcited boys to come home and get cleaned up but they were her responsibility.

Her feet dragging, she stepped farther into the yard.

Luke noticed her first. Smiled at her. He’d only worked with her twice since starting at Bradford House Tuesday, and she’d kept her distance, hadn’t said much, but he insisted on being nice to her. Friendly. As if she’d ever believe he really wanted to be her friend. “Gracie. Hi.”

Andrew stopped playing and looked up. Blinked in surprise, then jumped to his feet. “Hey, Gracie.”

She nodded. “Boys,” she said to her brothers, who were begging Andrew to throw them the ball, “what are you doing?”

Three-year-old Caleb pressed against Luke’s leg and smiled angelically at her. “Hi, Gracie. Luke plays football,” he said with all the awe of someone who’d just met a member of the Steelers or something. “I caught his pass!” He glanced up at Luke. “Didn’t I?”

Luke grinned and ruffled Caleb’s sweaty blond hair. “You sure did, bud. It was a great catch.”

Usually, whenever Caleb saw Gracie, he raced over to her, but now he looked perfectly content to cuddle with some guy he didn’t even know.

Traitor.

“You’re not supposed to leave the yard,” she told her brothers. Her tone, sharper than usual, had Caleb’s lower lip trembling, had him edging closer to Luke.

Luke patted Caleb’s shoulder as if comforting him over his mean old sister’s bitchiness, which, of course, only made Gracie angrier. “They just sort of showed up,” Luke said. “They’re not bugging us or anything.”

“That’s not the point.” She didn’t want to be friendly with him, especially when Andrew was standing there watching her. She just wanted to get her brothers and get home.

Luke pulled a shirt on, while Andrew kept his off, tossed the ball from hand to hand in a way that made his biceps bulge. Was he doing that on purpose?

Six-year-old Christian blinked at her, all blond, blue-eyed, chubby-cheeked innocence. “We left you a note.” He elbowed his identical twin, Colin.

Colin nodded like a bobblehead. Not quite pulling off the innocent look Christian did—at least that gave her hope that Colin did, indeed, have a conscience. “Yeah. Conner wrote it.”

Conner, the oldest of the boys at almost eight, shoved Colin with two hands. “I thought you were going to write it.”

Colin shoved back. “I can’t write yet, stupid! I’m in kindergarten.”

“You’re in first grade now,” Conner shouted with another shove, knocking Colin on his butt.

Which, of course, set Christian off. “You can’t hit my brother!” he yelled with a bloodcurdling cry.

“They’re both your brothers,” Gracie pointed out, but Christian had already launched himself at Conner. The three of them fell to the ground with loud grunts, pointy elbows, kicking feet and fisted hands. Caleb raced around his fighting brothers, screaming his head off like a crazy person.

Gracie sighed at the lot that was her life.

“Uh, aren’t you going to make them stop?” Andrew asked while Luke just stepped back from the melee, a small smile on his face.

“Molly says it’s better for them to work their problems out on their own,” Gracie said. “Besides, to get them to stop, I’d have to wade into that.” She pointed at where the boys wrestled. “And I’m not about to do that. I made that mistake one time, and it wasn’t pretty.”

Mainly because she’d caught a bony knee to her stomach. She’d ended up struggling to get her breath back while they kept right on fighting.

Andrew looked at her as if she was nuts. No different from the way plenty of people looked at her, but it still stung.

Luke opened a cooler. “Want a soda?” he asked, as if they were at a wrestling match and should sit down and enjoy the show.

“Soda is just chemicals and sugar,” she informed him—yes, sounding prissy, but she was out of her element here, and she rarely felt that way.

His grin widened. “You sound like Drew’s mom. I had to bring this from home.” And he popped the top and drank what equated to diabetes and death in a recyclable can.

Andrew glanced at the house nervously, then back at the fighting boys. Winced when Conner caught a fist to the side of his head. “You sure you shouldn’t stop them?”

“They’ll run out of steam eventually,” she said, sounding funny—sort of stiff and offended, which wasn’t like her at all. “Then they’ll be best friends again.”

“Boys,” a sharp, female voice called. Gracie looked over to see Andrew’s mom, a pretty brunette with shoulder-length hair, light brown eyes and a penchant for frowning, in the doorway. “Stop that this instant!”

The boys, of course, didn’t stop. “My dad and Molly aren’t big on telling us what to do,” she explained because Andrew’s mom looked so freaked out and none too happy about being ignored. “They prefer to let us make our own mistakes.”

Gracie sent a pointed glance at Andrew, who had the decency to blush and duck his head.

“But they’re fighting,” Ms. Denning said with a feeble hand wave. “They’ll get hurt.”

“Probably.”

Leo Montesano, firefighter and gorgeous human being extraordinaire, stepped onto the deck and Gracie’s heart gave a happy sigh. The man was pure eye candy with tousled dark hair, tanned skin and a tall, muscular body. He glanced at his girlfriend—though Andrew’s mom was way too old to be called that—then at the boys. Whistling a tune Gracie couldn’t identify, he crossed to the hose, turned the water handle and tugged it forward.

Gracie considered telling him to stop, since she’d be the one to get the boys cleaned up, but they were already so filthy the water couldn’t hurt. Besides, this was obviously a fight that wasn’t going to end quickly or well on its own, and she really didn’t want to drag all the kids to the ER because someone broke a bone.

Again.

So she stepped onto the porch as he turned the hose on full blast, dousing her brothers.

Colin broke first—jumping up with a scream. He got a mouthful of water for his efforts. The other two took more convincing, but the water must have been cold enough that it forced them apart. But then, in the ways of little boys, which Gracie just did not understand, they started yelling joyfully and laughing, enjoying getting soaked.

“Me, too!” Caleb shouted at Leo. “Squirt me, too!”

Leo obliged, though he didn’t use as much water pressure, and sent Caleb into a fit of giggles.

“Boys are so strange,” Andrew’s mom murmured.

Gracie could only nod in agreement.

By the time Leo turned off the hose, Gracie’s brothers were soaked and running around on the wet grass, Sauron barking crazily next to them.

“Come on,” Gracie said. “Let’s get home. You need to put on dry clothes.”

“No, we don’t!” Colin shouted.

And he stripped naked. Right there in front of everyone.

From behind her, Gracie heard Andrew’s mom gasp, then mutter a prayer of thanksgiving that her child wasn’t an exhibitionist. By the time she went inside, Christian and Caleb were both naked, too, and the twins were chasing each other, trying to hit each other with sticks they’d picked up.