Page 31 of A Very Un-Shakespeare Romance
“Our mother used to say that too.” Even at a young age, he’d known it was bullshit.
Tim was chewing on his lip like he was fighting laughter. “I’m sure my brothers will do their best. Maybe they’re just outmatched today.”
“If the kids weren’t around…” he muttered as he walked closer to Tim, bumping him on purpose. “All right, let’s play. Sorry for the delay.”
“That’s okay.” Summer waved brightly. “It’s important to take care of our little fans on the sidelines.”
“Hi, Miss Summer!” Cassidy called. “I’m making a sandcastle.”
“So I see.” She tossed the ball back and forth in her hands. “Should I serve again to your dad and uncle?”
Robbie’s stomach dropped. He’d told the kids not to use their names, but Cassidy was little…
“Yes!” Reagan yelled, coming over next to Cassidy. “But be nice to them, okay?”
“Yeah!” Cassidy repeated. “Nice is best.”
Robbie didn’t think that was on the agenda after the way he and Billie had shot their mouths off. Robbie cracked his neck and mouthed “No mercy” to Summer. She sputtered out a laugh and then gave a leaping jump and hammered another killer serve his way. He had to step back to set the ball and return it, but he managed it. Clarice was ready for it and lobbed it into the air for Summer to drill over the net. Billie was ready this time, jumping at the right moment and blocking the shot. The ball hit at Clarice’s feet.
Robbie hooted before he caught himself. His little cheering section clapped and squealed. Billie gave a fewwhoof whoof whoofsbefore rushing and chest bumping him.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” his brother spat out. “Now you serve and make them wish they’d never tangled with the O’Connor brothers.”
He caught the ball when Clarice threw it his way. Positioning himself at the back of their makeshift court, he stared at Summer. She was wiggling those slender hips of hers, her gaze focused on him. A satisfied smile shone on her face, and his breath caught for a moment. God, she was so beautiful. Her oval face was flushed from the heat. The blond hair she’d twisted into a ponytail to stay out of her way glinted like gold in the sun.
“Anytime you’re ready,” she called merrily.
He felt an answering smile spread across his lips.You bet I’m ready.Time for them to take over this game. Which way was she going to move? If he could fake her out, he had a chance at an ace. God knew they needed a point. He let his eyes and body drift to the left, as if he were planning on sending the ball in that direction. Then he threw it in the air and drove his palm into it, shooting it across the net, angled the other way.
Her body turned sideways in a flash, and before Billie could jump, she sailed the ball over his head. Robbie lunged for it, but he caught it too low. Grumbling, wiping off more sand, he watched it roll across the ground.
Billie winced as he picked up the ball and tossed it to Clarice, who’d just finished cooing and high-fiving Summer. “Sorry, bro. She’s wicked fast.”
“Be faster,” Robbie spat back. “Also, how tall are you? Can’t you use that to your advantage?”
“Don’t get surly.” Billie put his hands on his hips, his face darkening. “We talked about that, remember?”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from delivering a salty response. Little ears were the worst. He was going to explode if he didn’t start swearing again. How did people release all this pent-up frustration on the inside if they didn’t drop an f-bomb or two? “I’m as happy as a lark,” he quipped to his brother. “Ask Shakespeare.”
Billie threw his head back and laughed. “Hey, Tim! Did you hear that? Robbie’s comparing himself to a lark. Where’s that from in Shakespeare?”
“I can’t give a direct quote, but I do remember a passage or two about the sweet song larks give in the morning.” Tim pointed to Robbie. “Girls, do you want to hear what a lark sounds like? Go ahead, Robbie.”
Timmy was going to die after the girls went to bed. “I flunked the class on bird sounds. Let’s play!”
“Too bad, I really wanted to hear your lark impression.” Summer took her ponytail down and shook her hair out, her captivating smile making his chest tight. “In fact, we could stop playing if you want to give us a show. Did I hear you talking about Shakespeare? I love Shakespeare!”
God, what was it about chicks and Shakespeare? “You can talk to Tim after the game. He’s the wannabe playwright. Come on, Clarice. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She gave her hips a wiggle. “I can’t wait to show you, boys. Especially that big hunky bald guy across the net. You ready, honey?”
“I’m always ready.” Billie pounded his chest. “Let’s see what you’ve got, little mama.”
Robbie grimaced. Were they supposed to talk like that around the girls? Tara’s lengthy list of dos and don’ts had only included not swearing. Figuring it was better to err on the safe side, he said, “Hey! Watch the language.”
Billie looked over his shoulder. “What did I say?”
Before Robbie could respond, Clarice jumped up and pounded the ball over the net, catching Billie in the chest.
