Page 51 of A Very Un-Shakespeare Romance
“Whatever you want, cutie pie,” Tim said, patting her back. “You might want to grab your wand too, brother.”
He flipped him the bird since Cassidy wasn’t looking. “Already done.”
“Jeez, and that didn’t help?” Tim winced before tipping up the little girl’s chin. “Cassidy, we’re doomed. Doomed! The frustrated Prince Robbie has no place to quench the fire in his hot sword.”
Robbie went over and closed the door with an audible click, proud of himself for not slamming it. God, when had his baby brother become a nutso Shakespeare act? His brothers were going to pants it out of him if he kept this up after they returned to Boston.
After they returned to Boston…
God, what were they doing? Holed up in Familyville with two girls, hoping to evade the bad guys who were over twelve hours away in Boston. He was going crazy at the lack of movement. They had over a week before Tara had agreed to call it. Nothing had happened yet to break open the case.
Give him a chance to break the case open. He could knock some heads together. Interrogate some bad guys. He wanted to…
Fisting his hands, he tapped his bare foot on the plush carpet. This waiting game was killing him, all right. God, he’d have given his right arm to be going through the door of a violent drug dealer’s hideout.
Or better, on a real date with Summer.
He rubbed the back of his neck. Tonight was as close as they were going to get to that, and the prospect already had him losing his mind. How was he going to stop himself from doing something stupid?
Then it hit him. He could time their date. Yeah, that was right. Thirty minutes for a cocktail and then another thirty walking along the beach. He couldn’t do something stupid in under an hour, right? Then he’d bid her good night and head inside.
To his freshly laundered sheets.
He hung his head. God, who was he kidding. He didn’t want to roll around in his sheets alone. He wanted Summer to be there with him.
“Not happening, man,” he told himself.
Grabbing his swim trunks, he changed and headed to the kitchen to grab a snack before joining the others outside. The air was still like breathing through a wet blanket and the sun was raining down in hot waves as he trudged through the sand to the happy party. Reagan was already standing on the surfboard, trying to stop it from rocking on the ground. Her little sister was running back and forth across it, Tim bent at the waist to make sure she didn’t trip. Billie stood cozily beside Clarice, his hand tucked casually around her waist.
And Summer…
She was wearing another eye-popping bikini, this one in a sexpot red that highlighted every sweet little part of the body he wanted to put his hands on.
She looked up and smiled as he reached them, putting her hand on Reagan’s shoulder to steady her. His earlier anger started to drain away, and in the moment, he knew he was in real trouble.
His father had always said his mother had possessed the power to calm him down when he was at his most pissed off.Son, when any of you find a woman like that, you’ll know she’s a keeper.
He took a half step back, reeling from the shock. Summer’s gaze narrowed in response.
“Look at me!” Reagan cried out, her extended arms teetering slightly. “I’m balancing.”
“She’s a fast learner,” Summer said after a long moment, finally looking away from him and gently positioning the girl’s shoulders. “Remember, Reagan. Keep yourself angled straight on the board. Your feet are going to want to move. It’s the set of your shoulders that is your helper. Now bend your knees and tighten your belly. I’m going to rock the board a little.”
Summer continued her instructions as his mind buzzed like an old emergency broadcast system, emitting one solid ear-grating note. A warning of potential tragedy. He was falling head over heels for a woman under false pretenses. And there was no way he could tell her the truth…
Once Tara’s situation was resolved, they’d be out of here so fast it would make his head spin.
Would he tell Summer the truth once everything was resolved? The only good reason for doing that was if he thought they had a future together. That would mean long-distance dating—assuming she didn’t punch him when she found out he’d been lying to her the whole time. Even if it was for a good reason. You never could guess with women.
Hadn’t his sister, a cynical girl from Southie, all but kicked out her now-husband for not being totally truthful to her before they got engaged? And they’d been together for a while, doing the whole dating lovey-dovey thing. He and Summer—
“Hey, bro!” Billie called, his brow furrowed. “Why don’t you take Drool Baby from Tiny Tim here and see if you two can make a whale appear?”
“I have my wand,” Cassidy cried out, running over to her red bucket tucked in the sand beside a half-made sandcastle the tide hadn’t completely destroyed.
He met his baby brother’s concerned gaze. Tim crossed his arms and stared at him, his usual jovial smile absent now. God, was his mood that much of a vibe killer? If so, why were they giving him baby duty? Wouldn’t a beer be better? Kids usually ran away from moods like this, didn’t they?
A soft thunk landed against his leg. He looked down. Cassidy was beaming at him, drooling with her angelic smile. She thrust out her wand and then pointed to the ocean. “Whale! Now!”
