Page 64 of A Very Un-Shakespeare Romance
Robbie groaned. “I kick puppies, Tim. Kidding. God, you’d better not be about to lay a Shakespeare quote on me.”
Grimacing, he pointed to his lips. “I’ll hold it in, but I’m going to step on a ledge.”
“Don’t fall,” Robbie warned, bracing himself.
“I think you can take it.” His brother stepped exaggeratedly toward the door, however, making Robbie’s mouth twitch. “I’ve seen you with plenty of girls since you went out on your first date with Katie O’Sullivan. And I stood by your side on your wedding day.”
Robbie knew where this was going. “Run, brother.”
He shook his head, setting his weight. “I’ve never seen you look at a woman like you do Summer.”
“Tim—”
“I want you to be happy, dammit. I heard you laughing with her last night—in this house. Do you have any idea how rare that sound is? You stopped laughing like that after Mom died.”
His heart tore in two. “Jesus, Tim. Just stop!”
“I won’t. You admire me, remember, so I’m saying what I see. And I seethat.What if coming here wasn’t just about you seeing me differently but yourself? What if meeting Summer turned out to be fate’s gift to you for being the kind of man you are? Because you aren’t just tough and hard, you’re loyal and caring and as straight as an arrow.”
He wanted to put his hands over his ears. “You might as well run off to Ireland, talking like that.”
“If I could tell Kathleen about all of this,” he said, lifting his chin, “she’d be on the next plane over to see for herself, and then she’d knock you in the back of the head about passing up a woman like this. Since I can’t call her, I’m doing the knocking my way. So, knock knock.”
“My life isn’t a damn—”
“I’m not letting you finish that sentence.” He held his hand out like he had the power to stop his older brother from speaking, when they both knew he didn’t. “I’ll get out of your hair now and say, I love you. You’re my brother. I’ve looked up to you my whole life. I admire the hell out of you. And whatever you’re planning, I’m with you. All the way.”
He nodded, swallowing a whole lot of love for his baby brother. “I know you are. Good night, Tim.”
“Night, Robbie.”
He let himself fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Images of a stricken Tara filled his mind. On the tail end of his cousin was Summer, standing in front of him on the beach in the soft light of the moon. He could still feel her hands cupping his jaw, hear her softly confess she wished they didn’t have to end. Tim was right, God help him.
He closed his eyes, searching for answers. He didn’t have just one plan to figure out, he realized. His second was what he was really going to do about Summer.
Because, in the quiet of the night, he could finally admit to himself that he didn’t want to let her go.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Their plan was brilliant,and her promotion would be a sure thing.
Robbie, though? She had no idea what would happen.
She could only hope that the man she’d come to know and care about would at least meet her halfway. After he blew his top, which she feared would be his initial reaction. She’d continue hoping that coming clean to Robbie would mean they could go on a real date as themselves when all this was over. Because if she didn’t lead with hope, she felt like she might lose her balance and make a mistake, and that was something she could not do.
Lily finished another bottle of coconut water and then checked the clock, eager to kick things off. This time she was the one who patted Sheila’s butt. “Showtime.”
“God, I can’t believe you talked me into this. The sun is hardly up, and we barely got a catnap.” Her partner’s glare didn’t have its usual punch given the dark circles under her eyes from a long night.
When they’d checked in with Buck last night, he’d wanted them to immediately bring Tara into the North Carolina FBI office before transporting her and her girls back to Boston in protective custody. Basically, pissing on Robbie and the Southie PD and pulling rank with the racketeering case they’d been working on to nail the Kellys. Not to mention frightening some very little girls.
Hairs rising on her skin because of how badly she knew that was going to go over—with both Tara and Robbie—Lily had told Buck they were going to go over everything they had so far and call him back with a detailed plan. Her brainstorming session with Sheila had been rocky at first, because her partner was reluctant to worry about egos and stepped-on toes. Sheila loved pissing contests, something she swore she got from her mother.
But she’d agreed about not wanting to traumatize the little girls they’d both grown fond of. In the end, Sheila had called her “my queen” and sent a fatigued bow her way.
Lily had gotten totally choked up, but of course Sheila had quickly followed it up by saying it was her eighth cup of coffee that had enticed her to agree to Lily’s unconventional plan. Her partner had collapsed on the couch while Lily had called Buck back and laid out her strategy.
He’d argued nearly every point with her, which was what made him a good agent and boss, making her defend each part of her scheme. He’d finally caved at four fifteen, telling Lily that she’d better be right, or he was going to transfer her to Anchorage and tell the officer in charge to put her on moose poaching cases. Did people poach moose? She’d shivered but hung up victorious.
