Page 44 of A Very Un-Shakespeare Romance
“Every princess should have one,” she told him, that sparkle back in her green eyes, he was relieved to see. “Also, there’s one in there for Tim. It was the most masculine one I could find, but in some circles, I imagine it wouldn’t pass muster.”
Digging deeper in the bag, he spotted the only non-pink one. She was right. The baby blue wasn’t exactly a guy’s color. “He’ll love it. They all will. Thank you. I don’t know what to say. Especially when you were out buying these after I was such a jerk to you last night.”
“Well, they weren’t, and I wanted to do this.”
She laid her hands over his rough ones, making him achingly aware of how different they were—she was soft and he was hard, and he wanted to explore every… “Again, it’s really nice.”
God, he sounded lame.
“I thought it might help them wish for whatever was in their hearts right now,” she continued, pressing her hand to the center of her chest, where her heart had raced for him. “It’s tough when little girls have worries. Having something to hope for, to wish for—well, that’s everything. Even if it’s make-believe.”
Again, the past seemed to cast gray shadows on her face. “It’s not one of the inspirational sayings hanging in our house next door,” he said lightly, trying to pull her out, “but I imagine there’s one about that phrase.Make. Believe.In a girly font, of course.”
“The wordReceivewould probably go afterBelieve.”She broke off a laugh. “You going to make a crack about me saying something like that?”
“Never.” He tipped her chin up, seeing the promise of something happy and hot in her eyes. “We should decide on a time tonight before I give in to the urge to kiss you again.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Clarice is probably still listening in the other room.”
“At least she’s put away her paring knife.” He cupped her shoulders when she gave him a puzzled expression. “How does nine o’clock work for tonight? For just you and me? No eavesdroppers or angry brothers—or pissed-off cats. Don’t ask.”
She caressed his chest, making him aware of the power her fingertips had to make him burn. “Okay. Were you planning on running this morning?”
“I was.” He wouldn’t tell her he’d feared he wouldn’t be able to catch her to apologize.
“Want a running partner?” she asked shyly. “Seems a waste to wait until tonight…I just need to change.”
He skewered her with a look. “You planning on running a seven-minute mile? Because while I hate admitting this out loud, lest you think I’m a wuss, that’s too fast for me.”
“I think I can handle your leisurely pace for a day.” Her mouth twitched sexily, making him want to run his finger across those amused lips. “But tomorrow all bets are off.”
Who knew what tomorrow would bring? Tonight they would have a casual drink and a romantic walk along the beach. He could already feel himself holding her slender hand as the washes crashed in the distance. His thoughts would be on her and her only. Being alone was going to change things between them. There was no getting around it. He’d have to face that. But not now.
“I’m forewarned.” He gave her soft cheek a final caress before stepping back. “I’ll just drop these wands off next door and meet you outside. Unless you want to give them—”
“No, please don’t wait! Waking up to a present is one of the best things in the world.”
He wanted to make a note of that. For her. But giving her presents would sure as hell make whatever they were doing more than just a vacation thing. “I’ll see you shortly. And thanks again. For everything.”
She gave that bright smile of hers, and he turned to leave, nearly walking into the counter. Clumsy he wasn’t. Idiot he’d just added to the list. But at least his temporary jerk badge had been removed.
When he let himself into the house, Billie was sitting having coffee with Tim. His brother immediately stood, his big jaw already out of joint. “You and me need to get something straight.”
“Clarice is waiting for you to ask her out,” he simply replied, walking over to Tim. “These are presents from Summer for you and the girls. I’m going on a run.”
He headed back to the door, relieved not to hear Billie’s heavy footsteps following him.
“Oh, and by the way, Tim,” he said, turning around to face them, “I’m going to have a drink with Summer after the girls go to sleep around nine—with a walk on the beach afterward.” He put his hand on the doorframe. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep an ear out for the girls.”
Billie’s shock turned to a sly smile. “About damn time.”
“Of course, kind sir,” his brother replied in that irritating Shakespearean accent. “It would be my honor to serve you so humbly, especially as you are in the pursuit of love.”
Robbie narrowed his eyes. “Let’s be clear. I’m doing this against my better judgment, but I’m going to control my own stupidity. If I turn into an idiot, I want one of you to hit me. As hard as you deem necessary. Because I won’t let Tara or those girls down. I couldn’t live with myself. Got it?”
They both nodded crisply.
“Good. I’m glad that’s clear. Because dammit, Tim, this ain’t no Shakespeare romance. I won’t let it end tragically.”
