“So you don’t like football?” Grant asked as they moved down the hall.

“No. I like football. A lot, actually.”

“But you don’t play.”

Leo shrugged. “I might want to, but I haven’t yet. You should, like, sit on the couch or something.”

“Okay.” He followed them into the very spacious apartment, giving it a thorough once-over. It was modern and classy, but not fussy. A lot like the woman who owned it. There were windows that let light in, plus plenty of space. She didn’t clutter the place up with antiques or expensive furniture. Only necessary items like a dining room table, a couch, and a couple of chairs.

Nice.

He took a seat on a cream leather sofa. “Does Katrina like football?”

“She watches the games with us when she’s home,” Leo said. “I’m not sure if she pays attention. She likes to read a lot.”

“I noticed that about her when we were in Barbados.”

Anya took a seat next to him on the sofa. “She’s always got her head stuck in a book. Me, I’d rather be out doing something instead of stuck inside. Unless I’m cooking. But speaking of getting out, what are we doing today?”

“I thought you all might like to show me New York. I’m kind of a tourist.”

Anya laughed. “Yeah? We never get to play tourist. This could be fun.” She took out her phone and started tapping away.

With Anya focused elsewhere, Grant turned his attention to Leo, who seemed a little nervous. Remembering what it was like to be that age and faced with a strange adult, Grant figured it was up to him to ease the tension. “Okay, so you don’t play football, Leo. Do you play any other sports?”

“Lacrosse. Tennis.”

“I never played lacrosse. And I sucked at tennis.”

That made Leo smile.

“Do you like playing those sports?”

He shrugged. “They’re okay. I only do them because Katrina makes me.”

Interesting. “So you don’t like sports.”

“I do. But not those. I’d rather play football, but I’m a little light, weight-wise. And Katrina would bust a brain cell or something if I told her I wanted to play football.”

“Why is that?”

“She thinks it’s dangerous.”

Oh, now he was starting to get the picture. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”

Leo shrugged. “No point in it. She’s like the law around here, and freaking her out doesn’t do any good.”

“This is true,” Anya said, her focus still on her phone. “Though it’s fun to mess with her a little.”

It didn’t take Grant long to grasp the dynamics here. Katrina was obviously in over her head trying to wrangle two teenagers. Who wouldn’t be? He remembered the shit he and his brothers used to cause, and they had two very firm parents to shut them down. Katrina was barely past her mid-twenties and these kids were smart. They didn’t seem like they’d step back easily when confronted. Katrina probably fought a lot of battles and didn’t win them all.

If any.

Teenagers could be a giant pain in the ass. But these two didn’t look dangerous.

Grant heard a door open behind him, so he stood and saw Katrina making her way down the hall dressed in black capris, a black-and-white-striped T-shirt, and a pair of slip-on canvas shoes. Simple, yet on her, elegant. Her hair was pulled in a high ponytail, making him think about wrapping all that hair in his hand and giving it a hard tug. He wondered how she would react and figured he shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like that with her young siblings in the same room.

“Sorry. It took me a little longer to get ready because someone keeps borrowing my clothes and makeup.”

“Yeah, I can’t help myself. Your turquoise eye shadow looks so good on me,” Leo said, giving Katrina a crooked smile.

Anya snorted and shoved into her brother. “And don’t forget how her pink miniskirt highlights the dark hairs on your legs.”

Leo looked at Anya and gave her a short nod. “This is true.”

Katrina, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. “Comedians. See what I have to deal with?”

Grant laughed. “I don’t know, Leo. Somehow I don’t think pink and turquoise are in your color wheel.”

Katrina blinked. “I can’t believe you said color wheel.”

He turned to face her. “I have a little sister. She might or might not have painted my nails once or twice.”

“Recently?” Anya asked, arching a brow.