When she had suggested setting a blanket on the floor so they could all sit together and eat, the children had jumped at the suggestion. Max had looked at her doubtfully while Randy had jumped up and down in glee, and Maxie had gone into the bedroom to bring back a large blanket.

The children had loved the adventure of scooting the furniture back and laying the blanket down on the carpet. Setting the food down, they had turned the takeout dinner into a picnic.

Casey ate her food, watching as Max talked to his kids about their week. He asked questions about their activities and friends, all the while letting them have his undivided attention. He was friendly, but the underlying sternness was there if they told him something he wasn’t happy with.

“Can I go to a movie next Saturday? Mom said I had to ask you for permission,” Maxie asked.

“Who with?” Max asked with a chicken leg in his large hand.

“With my friend Abbey.” The girl looked away from Max’s sharp gaze.

“Anyone else?”

“Her brother,” Maxie admitted.

“How old is this brother?”

“Sixteen.” A light blush filled her face.

“No. If you two girls want to go to the movie, I’ll take you and drop you off then pick you up when it’s over.”

Maxie made a face. “That won’t be any fun!”

“If you were just going to watch the movie, what difference does it make if I take you? If you want to go, I’ll take you. If you don’t want me to, then you can sit your ass at home.”

“Then I’ll stay home!” Maxie jumped up from the blanket and ran from the room. The loud slam of the bedroom door had Casey wincing in sympathy for the girl. Max, on the other hand, seemed unconcerned as he cut the small Bundt cake into pieces for the rest of his kids.

Casey took the piece he offered her.

“You think I’m wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, but I think you could have put it nicer or asked if her mother could take her, instead. She could have been worried that you would intimidate her friends.”

“She’s worried I’ll hit the punk who thinks he’s got a clear path to my thirteen-year-old daughter.”

“That, too,” Casey agreed.

“Can I have another piece of cake?” Randy’s face was covered in chocolate.

“Why don’t you finish that piece on your face?” Max handed him a napkin.

Casey stood when she finished her cake, helping Max to clean up. The boys were playing a video game when she went into the kitchen to put the leftovers away. When she turned back, Max was leaning against the counter.

“Thanks for bringing dinner. The kids liked it, even Maxie.”

“I did, too. Cole and I used to do it sometimes when we were kids.” Casey couldn’t keep the sadness out of her voice.

“You and Cole are tight, aren’t you?”

“Not only is he my brother, he’s my best friend.”

Max turned to the stove, dumping the remains of the dinner he had cooked into the trash.

“What was it?” Casey asked curiously.

“SpaghettiOs. I got off work late and didn’t have time to run by the grocery store before I picked the kids up.”

“You work?”

Max threw the pot into the sink. “I work fifty hours a week at the furniture factory.”

“I just asked. I didn’t know.” Casey regretted that she kept saying the wrong things to him. His masculine pride was like a minefield. She never knew it was too late until she stepped on them.

“Now you do,” Max snapped.

“It’s getting late; I should go.”

Max’s hand on her arm had her pausing.

“Sorry, I guess you thinking I was too lazy to hold a job down was getting to me.”

“I don’t think you’re lazy, Max. You never talk about your work. I—”

“There’s not a lot to talk about. I load and unload furniture onto a truck all day.”

“Now I understand why you’re so big, lifting heavy furniture every day,” Casey teased. “Saves you money with gym memberships.”

“I get a discount, too. If you come by the store, you can get a new mattress.”

“I may take you up on that Monday.”

“Want to stay and play some video games?”

Casey nodded, and they went back into the other room, sinking down into the couch. Max handed her a controller.

“You play video games?” Maxton scooted over to make more room for her.

“Occasionally. My brother loves video games,” Casey said, recognizing the game that Maxton restarted from the beginning. The challenge was to find and collect enough items to fill a treasure chest.

Max groaned out loud when Casey began earning enough points to take items from his chest.

“Take some things from Randy’s chest. His is almost full,” he suggested.

“I don’t want to steal from a child.” Casey’s hair fell across her cheek as she concentrated on taking a treasure map from him. When he brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear, she shivered at the feel of his fingers on her skin.

Max’s chest was empty by her next turn. He tossed the controller down, leaning back against his chair. With him out of the game, Randy and Maxton became her targets.

“I thought you didn’t steal from kids?” Max asked when she took a large ruby from Randy.

“That was before he stole my emerald,” Casey stated, winking at Randy.

Both boys were staring at her in consternation an hour later as the pirate was dancing in glee around the treasure chest.

“She beat us. Adults are supposed to let kids win.” Maxton shook his head at her.

“I prefer you to take a learning experience from the game. It builds character to lose occasionally.”

“I’d rather win.”

Max stood. “Me, too. Losing sucks. Bedtime, boys.”

The boys all wanted to stay up, but Max lifted Randy to his shoulders, and Maxton and Maxim both chased after their father up the stairs.

Casey folded the large blanket, placing it on the couch. Then she went to the kitchen and did the dishes that had been left in the sink before wiping off the counters.

She was going back into the living room as Max was coming down the steps. The front of his T-shirt was wet.

“Did you take a bath with the boys?”

“Very funny. I need to put Randy in swimming classes. That boy would live in the bathtub if I let him. The other two act like I’m torturing them when I make them take a shower.”

“All your children get along well together,” Casey commented on the closeness of the half-siblings.

Max dropped down onto the couch. “Did you get along with your stepbrothers and sisters?”

“Not really. By the time we would usually begin to get used to each other, the relationship would end. None of my stepfathers made an attempt to let us see each other afterward, so we gradually grew apart.”

“Did you get along with your stepfathers?” His curious question had her avoiding his eyes.

“For the most part.” Casey went to the coffee table and picked up her purse. “I better be going.”

As she walked toward the door, she passed Max, who put an arm around her waist, sweeping her into his arms.