“It’s not about principles, Max, but what’s the point of living as long as we have if all we do is exist?” Bennett said, putting her glass aside. “I’m not out there wearing a cape and a mask. I’m not trying to save the world, but if I can stop a drug deal or a robbery or a murder or a rape, by God, I’m going to bloody do it.”

A satisfied shimmer came into Max’s eyes, and after taking a taste of his wine, he put the glass aside. “I know you will, Bennett, and to tell you the truth, I can’t fault you for your ideals. I only ask that you be careful, and if a copper does come knocking at your door, be as charming as I taught you to be.”

***

“Your lamb stew was delicious as always,” Bennett said, carrying a few more dishes into the kitchen. “Thanks again for inviting me to Sunday dinner.”

“You’re welcome, and you don’t need to help clear the table,” Cathleen Rooney said as Bennett stacked the plates by the sink. “That’s why I have kids.”

“I don’t mind. I actually enjoy it.”

“Why?”

“I suppose because it makes me feel more like a friend and less like a guest.”

Cathleen Rooney snatched up a towel and quickly dried her hands. Tossing the terrycloth aside, she invaded Bennett’s personal space and looked her in the eye. “You listen to me, Bennett Archer. You’re not a guest, and you’re not just a friend. You’re family to us, to all of us. The boys adore you, the girls hang on your every word, and Gus and me…well, you own a very special place in our hearts. So, if you want to come over every night and help with the dishes, trust me, I won’t mind.”

Bennett’s laugh lines announced themselves in an instant. “Perhaps being a guest does have its advantages.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Cathleen said with a wink. “Now, why don’t you go take a load off while I finish up in here? And by all means, have whatever’s left of the wine you brought. If I have anymore, I’ll get silly, and if I get silly, I’ll end up having another kid.”

Bennett snorted, and after tipping what remained of the Shiraz into her glass, she strolled through the house. Gus was refereeing an argument between his sons in front of the Xbox, and Kenna had her nose buried in her phone. Spying the last Rooney on the front porch, Bennett grabbed her coat and stepped outside.

Fallon glanced over her shoulder when she heard the door open. “Escaping the chaos?”

“Not at all,” Bennett said, closing the door behind her. “I just thought I’d come out to make sure you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”