Page 45 of A Very Un-Shakespeare Romance
He slammed the door on the way out.
CHAPTERTWELVE
They had a problem.
Or at least Lily did. She was falling for a person of interest while being undercover. The line between Summer Sunshine’s feelings and Lily Meadows’ was blurring. Usually on undercover assignments, she could justify the masquerade. Pretending to be someone else so they could put bad guys away was her job, a job she was proud of, a job she was honor bound to execute.
But suddenly, when she spoke to Robbie, all she could think about was how she was lying to him about who she was and why she was really here. He was going to hate her when he found out, and that was a new worry wrapping itself around her ankles.
The likelihood of him discovering she was FBI was high. The case was going to be solved. She was going to solve it, get her promotion—do her job. That might benefit Robbie and his family, but she couldn’t imagine he would be thrilled with her subterfuge.
God, what a mess.
“I think you can expense those wands to the FBI, right?” Sheila studied her as she downed half a bottle of coconut water to coat her dry throat. “Since they were your idea to get back in with the O’Connors after last night. But it seems like we’ve progressed to a whole new level. And men complain about women changing their minds.”
“Sheila, I’m—”
“I know what you are.” Her partner strode forward and put her hands on Lily’s shoulders, her gaze direct. “I’ve developed feelings before while undercover. It happens. Which is why the trainers address it in undercover school and sometimes you have to talk to someone in the shrink shop after an assignment. But I trust you, Lily. You should trust yourself too.”
She nodded, aware of Sheila’s intentional use of her first name. Her partner was trying to remind her she was Lily Meadows, an FBI agent, who worked undercover. Right. She wanted to tap her own skull to drill that truth back into it. “I do trust myself, Sheila, but God, why do I have to feel this waynow? Why can’t I just meet a normal guy during my off-hours and date?”
Sheila laughed harshly in the sunny kitchen. “One, because we work like dogs. Two, because most guys’ balls shrivel the instant they hear we’re FBI. And three, because you don’t want a normal guy. You had one. It didn’t work out for you.”
She chugged more coconut water as her heart silently agreed by giving a hard thump in her chest. “I know you’re right, but I want to…”
“Roar?”Sheila grabbed the coconut water from her hand. “Go ahead. Then head upstairs and change. You have a running date with your person of interest.”
“Maybe I should cancel it?”
“Is that seriously a question?” She chewed her lip before heading to the fridge. “I’m getting you more pink water. Obviously, you’re dehydrated.”
She gave into an understated roar. “No, what I need is to get my head on straight.” One smell of Robbie, and both Summer and Lily were going to start going gooey-eyed again. Especially if he ran without a shirt on. My God, his chest made her fingers itch to trace all those hard muscles. This lunacy was the kind that killed promotions. She needed to keep her focus on the prize—not his gorgeous chest and ocean blue eyes. God, she was rhyming now. Maybe that Shakespeare stuff was catching.
Sheila slapped another coconut water into her hand and propelled her to the doorway. “You aren’t going to blow an operation because you’ve found a hot yet grouchy knight in shining armor who protects little kids—especially since this is the job that’s going to give you the promotion you want. I don’t care how sweet under that hard exterior Robbie O’Connor is. Now, I believe there’s a gorgeous, tall, bald hunk of a man coming to our back door who also zings my girly parts. Both Sheila’s and Clarice’s.”
She craned her neck to their terrace and spotted Billie sauntering toward the patio door. “What are you going to do?”
“Same as you!” Sheila slapped her butt. “Do the job. Now, move it,chica!”
Her partner only used Spanish when she was emphasizing a point. “Fine, I’m going. Unless you need a chaperone. I delivered mythis is too fast for me, and I don’t do this kind of thing usuallyspeech to Robbie. What’s your plan?”
Waving at Billie, who was now standing in clear view, she lowered her voice and said, “I’ll tell him I’ve got my period and it’s a bloody massacre. And then I’ll tear up and say the timing is terr-i-ble because I’m really falling for him. Guys like him run like the wind from shit like that.”
She coughed out an unexpected laugh. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Honey, I aced my undercover test on how to get out of difficult situations,” she whisper spoke. “Okay, now I’m opening the door to my gentleman caller. You go out the front when you leave.”
Gentleman caller? Tim O’Connor’s Shakespeare jokeswerecertainly catching on if Sheila was using them. She jogged up the stairs and headed to her bedroom at the end of the hall, chugging more coconut water. The extra walk reminded her that Sheila always insisted on being in the first bedroom off the stairs because she was a lighter sleeper and a better shot in case someone breached the house.
Right. Focus on FBI stuff. Like shootings and bad guys—the reason we’re here.
Finishing off her water, she took pleasure in crunching the bottle with her hand, the physical action keeping her focused. The shooting aspect of the job had been tough for her in the beginning, mostly because she didn’t want to use violence to handle anything. Fortunately, her mentor and friend had told her it was her desirenotto use violence that would make her a better agent. All she needed to remember was to follow procedure, keep her wits about her, and rely on her team. If she did that, she’d rarely have to pull her weapon, let alone use it.
So far, Brie Thierry had been proven right. Lily hoped it would stay that way. Especially since she’d be working on cases involving children. She’d been lucky that the cult her mother had joined hadn’t used guns. Not that there hadn’t been violence, but it had been the quieter kind, the kind that came behind closed doors and after dark. She’d been lucky to be too young for it. Some of her friends hadn’t been so lucky, though. Ironically, given the excuse Sheila planned on making to Billy, it had been Lily’s lack of period that had saved her.
The crunched bottle rested in her hands. She looked down, realizing that was how she could have ended up. Broken. Crushed. Brie had given her a shot with a good foster home and mental help. The rest had been on Lily.
She wasn’t going to mess up how far she’d come. Shaking off the memories, she walked into her bedroom and intentionally put the crunched bottle in the garbage can. It had served its purpose.
