Page 55 of A Very Un-Shakespeare Romance
“They named a color after that pathetic vegetable?” His brow knit in bafflement before he gave a snarky laugh. “I hate that stuff. It’s always on some sad veggie plate at a holiday party next to those bone-dry carrots no one wants to eat. Ranch dip can’t even make it edible. But I’m off my point. I’ve never seen a woman wear celery, but it’s never looked more captivating. You really are a beautiful woman, Summer.”
That darn heat was spreading over her cheeks again, making her feel like a young woman with her first crush. “Thank you. I see you cleaned up.”
“I didn’t think shorts and a T-shirt would do for a night with you.” He tipped his beer back, studying her while he was drinking. “And my tux was at the cleaners.”
“Funny.” She took a sip of wine, feeling her body loosen. She was relaxing around him, and it felt good. Even though she was undercover, she felt like she could be herself. God, this was the weirdest op ever.
“So…we’re having a drink as we planned. Do you want to sit outside? It’s still muggy but the sunsets here are pretty spectacular. We might catch the big orange ball before it gets swallowed in the ocean. That’s how Reagan describes it, at least.”
She came around the island slowly, unable to look away from his blue eyes. “They’re really sweet girls,” she said with an easy smile. “Getting to know them and the rest of your family has been a lovely surprise.” That was true, at least.
“You mean that.” He set his beer down when she reached him and traced her jaw lightly, making her knees give for a moment—a first. “Don’t think I didn’t realize you were choosing to put a barrier between us before. But we both know why, don’t we?”
Her breathing turned shaky as his finger trailed slowly down her neck, a weapon of fire. God, she wanted to be covered in it, every single pore of her skin.
“Because both of us are trying to fight this,” he said almost harshly as he gently traced the neckline of her bodice, making her nipples hard. “I told you this morning that I didn’t expect this. But Summer…meeting you has been one of the best parts of the trip.”
“You mean that,” she echoed in shock, making him chuckle in alow-octave, make her girly parts sizzleway.
“You can take it to the bank.” He made a crossing motion over his heart, and she felt the absence of his touch way too much. “I’d planned to fight it by allotting us thirty minutes for a drink and then another thirty for our walk.”
She bit her lip to hold back her very pleased smile. “I got a sense you were trying to manage our time together. It’s kinda hot.”
His chuckle was rusty and out of practice. “This is the first sign of sick humor I’ve seen in you. I kinda like it. Summer, I don’t want to have a beer. All I want is to kiss you senseless. Maybe run my hands over you and try and push out of my mind the fact that your dress color was inspired by someone’s love for celery.”
Laughing now as well, she didn’t move as he slid closer, brushing the fronts of their bodies together, making her laughter stop. Their eyes met again, his burning with amused heat, a look she wanted to get lost in. Instead, she pointed to the clock on the wall. “But we’re barely ten minutes into your first time allotment. Doesn’t that seem reckless?”
He gave a rough sigh. “I’m not a reckless man. Everything I do is about cleaning up after other people’s recklessness. But you make me want to get a little reckless even though I know it will only lead to stupidity.”
She angled back to study his face. “What kind of stupidity?”
“Forgetting this can’t go anywhere.”
For a moment, she wondered why he’d concluded that. Because he thought she lived in Florida? Because everyone thought vacation romances didn’t last? Or because he was closed off after his divorce? God, she was starting to have as many questions about their personal interactions as she did the job.
He reached for his beer. “You said this was fast for you. I’m suddenly talking like someone put a quarter in me. Maybe we should take our drinks outside.”
“Do you want me to bring the kitchen timer with us?” she joked, hoping to bring back some levity to both her thoughts and their time together.
“Only if you long for speed dating,” he quipped, opening the patio door.
She grabbed her wine and stepped outside, Robbie following closely behind, the heat and promise of him singeing her. “Well, while I haven’t attended an event, it does hold a certain logic. Asking questions of each other for five minutes beyond the initialdo I find you attractive?assessment is very efficient.”
He pulled her patio chair out before she could reach for it and waited for her to be seated. “Okay, I’m shocked. I’d pegged you for a romantic.”
“And yet you didn’t bring me flowers or chocolates,” she said with a sigh, pressing her hand to her forehead dramatically. “If Tim were here, he’d have a good Shakespeare quote. I’ve got nothing.”
“Not a fan?” He slid into his chair. “That’s a point in your favor. You had me fooled with all the wand and crown stuff.”
“Are we keeping score?” She sipped her wine. “Does running time count as a point?”
He shifted in his seat. “Grandpa is going to be crying uncle way too early tomorrow. I’m a little embarrassed to tell you why.”
She kicked back in her chair, crossing her ankles. “I love that we’ve agreed it’s a morning thing, my kicking your ass.”
He grunted. “I prefer to think of it as you being a serious drill sergeant helping me up my game.”
“So what’s your excuse?”
