A VERY UN-SHAKESPEARE ROMANCE: ‘A Fake Dad Grumpy Sunshine Romantic Comedy’

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 way now? 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 my this is too fast for me, and I don’t do this kind of thing usually speech 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 jokes were certainly 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 desire not to 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.

Crossing to the stack of undercover clothes she’d arranged in the top drawer of her dresser, she pulled on a green tank top that covered her middle along with a white tennis skirt. No need to amp up the mind-blowing sexual energy between them with a more revealing outfit. She wasn’t a masochist. Telling herself she was going to walk the narrow line she was on the best she could, she reached for her socks and running shoes.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside stand where she had it charging, and she walked over to it. She hoped Buck wasn’t going to pull them. Usually they were the ones who contacted him with updates. She took a breath and picked up her phone, heading into the bathroom. Their communications were always secure, but since Billie was in the house, she closed the door to make sure the sound wouldn’t travel.

“Agent Meadows,” she answered even though she knew it was Buck. One did not pick up and say, “Hi, Buck,” to one’s supervisor.

“The Kellys appear to be trying to flush Tara O’Connor out of hiding,” Buck informed her without greeting. “Obviously they know she’s removed the money because a mysterious fire started in her primary location around seven o’clock this morning when the chairs were packed to the gills with women looking to be pampered before they headed to work.”

“Oh no,” she breathed out.

“Exactly,” he agreed in a clipped tone. “There was a shit show stampede of screaming barefooted women with those girly rubber thingamabobs between their toes, according to the officer I sent to have eyes for us. But it was also on the morning news, which gives me indigestion as I finish my onion bagel. There are reports featuring victims complaining about their manicures being ruined. Can you believe that? I didn’t even know nail salons opened that early or career women cared about shit like that.”

No, Buck wouldn’t understand the desire to look one’s professional best when it involved beauty products. He’d been known to tell new female officers, fresh out of Quantico, if he thought they were wearing “too much makeup,” saying it was the FBI and not a clown house.

“I don’t know what the world is coming to, sir,” she answered deadpan.

“According to early police reports I’m getting from a confidential source, Tara’s second-in-command at the nail salon was freaked out, but she maintained that her boss is on a much-needed vacation after ending her marriage and will be back soon. I’ll tell you, those Southie women don’t scare too hard. This fire screams of arson, and I’m guessing Tara’s people would suspect it.”

“It’s hard to know what she told her staff, sir,” Lily reasoned. “I doubt she would mention the money laundering.”

He grunted. “You might be right. If Tara O’Connor can give both you and Sheila the slip, she’s one smart cookie. Either way—the Kellys are likely to hit back harder if Tara doesn’t appear soon after this initial scare. I don’t want to think where they go from arson. What do you think the odds are of her coming back to Boston like the Kellys want?”

Lily ran it over in her mind. “I’ve read everything I can about Tara and now that I’ve gotten to know her children a little, I’d say she has very protective instincts and is loyal to the people in her circle. She’ll be sick to her stomach about the fire, especially since she knows her husband was the reason for it. She’s going to want to prevent further damage. My bet is she knows there’s only one person she can fully trust.”

“Robbie O’Connor,” her boss surmised. “Any word on them making contact or meeting up?”

There was no way Robbie knew about this yet. If he had, he wouldn’t have come over to discuss his attraction to her this morning. His jaw would have been granite, and he would have been wanting to kick something before hovering close to those two sweet girls.

“Like I said in my report last night, sir, the youngest daughter mentioned wanting her mother to come, but I don’t have anything more right now. We haven’t seen a phone, but we’ve only been in two rooms in the house. I’ve made some further headway with Lieutenant O’Connor since my report, though, and hope to have better access. We have a drink and a walk planned for this evening. Alone. And today I’m teaching the girls to surf—or something of the sort. Our facetime with our subjects is growing stronger by the day. Perhaps he’ll learn of the fire and confide in me.”

Or would he simply cancel their outing? She had to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Too bad you haven’t found a phone. Nothing has popped on our end from his work phone. I tend to agree with you that he likely turned it in to Internal Affairs at the toy store meet. We also have nothing from his brothers’ phones.”

“Robbie would have advised them all to dump them since they’re traceable,” Lily broke in.

“We need something more, Lily.”

Pressing them was his job, so she strove not to be irritated and say, Of course, we know we need a phone, sir. “We’ll expand our efforts today, sir.”

“Good. If you can discover a phone, find out the number. I’ll initiate a warrant for a wiretap. If he has a phone, one would imagine Tara would call him now. We want to have the wiretap in place so we don’t miss any evidence.”

Lily walked to the window where she could see into the house next door—and their subjects. Tim was chasing Cassidy around as she shrieked, clutching Miss Rosie. The little girl was still in her pajamas and had wild bedhead. Reagan, she noted, was lying on the floor reading a book with Miss Purrfect cuddled up to her. None of them suspected they were under surveillance or that their family cat still boasted an FBI tracker on its bedazzled collar. More guilt pricked at her skin.

“Tara will weigh the risks of contact given her children are here, sir, but the arson changes things.” How could it not?

“She trusts Lieutenant O’Connor big-time,” he said flatly. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have given him both her kids and the money.”

“Agreed.” She froze when Tim caught her looking as he tossed Cassidy in the air, forcing her to give a cheery wave while her stomach gave a troubled flip-flop. “Sheila and I will make a concerted press on the phone issue. So far, none of the brothers have used one in our presence. I have an idea on how we can push it.”

Photos of the girls learning to surf for their mother. They would see how Robbie handled that innocent request.

“Good. We need a break, Lily. I hate telling my boss how you and Sheila are off in the Outer Banks in a vacation beach rental sipping Sheila’s famous margaritas and getting tans.”

She winced. They were going to get ragged about their tans when they returned to the office. Great. “Sir, I need to go. Lieutenant O’Connor is waiting for me to run with him.”

He sputtered out a rare laugh. “Are you running your usual Olympian speed that hurts a man’s pride or doing a sweet undercover run that makes O’Connor feel like he’s a god?”

Her reputation for speed was well known, and she’d dealt with hurt pride and pissed-off alphas in the Bureau because of it. “I deemed Lieutenant O’Connor would like a challenge. I left him in my dust the first day.”

“I’d almost pay to see that,” Buck said with another strangled laugh. “All right, it sounds like your cover is progressing. Keep pulling. We’re going to untangle this case and put the Kellys down. This fire could be just the thing to push things over the edge.”

She pressed a hand to her now upset tummy. A fire during a busy business time was bad enough. Beyond the actual damage it would cause, the fear and intimidation would leave a scar. Next time, it might turn more personal. Would the Kellys go after one of Tara’s employees? Maybe one of Robbie’s other brothers? She’d pulled all of their driver’s licenses. Every last one of them was over six feet, looked Southie tough, and hadn’t smiled for his photo. She had to believe Robbie trusted his brothers to take care of themselves.

She gripped the towel on the towel rack, biting her lip. She wished she could ask Robbie if he knew about the fire and what his fellow cops were planning to do about it. His partner had to already know what was going on, right? So did Internal Affairs. Surely the Southie police would do more drive-bys at Tara’s other nail salons and hopefully some of her employees’ homes. The FBI couldn’t help without blowing their cover.

“Summer!”

Sheila’s shout brought her out of her reverie. “Coming!”

She tucked her phone out of sight since it was charged and tugged on her running shoes. Jogging down the stairs, she found Robbie in the kitchen alongside Billie. They were talking to Sheila, who stood at the stove.

Robbie’s demeanor was the same as earlier, so he hadn’t heard the news yet. He was wearing a T-shirt, evidently not planning on running bare chested. They were in sync on the no-inflaming moves memo. When she entered the kitchen, he immediately broke off what he was saying, his mouth tipping up to the right. Her insides fluttered over her queasy stomach.

Get back into your cover, Lily.

Shaking her hair back, she said, “Sorry for making you wait. I was tugging my shoes on when a friend called on her way to work. I was telling her how great the Outer Banks is. She’s so jealous.”

“Was it Amy?” Sheila asked, serving up scrambled eggs for two. “She texted me last night asking for photos. I fell asleep before I could text her back.”

“Yeah, it was Amy.” She sent her partner a wink—their agreed upon sign to tell her something important had happened to delay her upstairs.

Sheila winked back to confirm she understood, her flirtatious smile remaining in place as she pushed a spatula at the eggs, Billie hovering close. “I’ll text her after I have breakfast with this hunk.”

Billie grinned when she reached over and gave his giant bicep a squeeze. “She’s a doll for feeding me.”

Robbie gave a dramatic eye roll. “Ready?”

She crossed to where he was standing, smiling. “Are you?”

His answer was a grin filled with challenge and heat. Her heart started tapping to its new Robbie cadence in her chest.

Remember why you’re here.

“Hey! Did you remember that you promised Reagan that I can show her how to surf today?” she asked.

His mouth worked like he was amused, and God, the way it highlighted the hardness of his jaw had her falling way too easily back into character. She could lap him up. Summer Sunshine could, that is.

“I did.” He inclined his chin to his brother. “Eat fast. Tim is alone with the Drool Baby and Miss Pixie. You know how Cassidy is in the morning.”

“Wild as a banshee.” Billie pointed to the door. “Run fast.”

Robbie’s jaw tightened as an uneasy silence descended in the kitchen. God, when two alpha males locked horns…

“Oh, don’t worry, Mom,” Billie practically huffed after a beat. “I’ll be back to babysit in no time. Maybe I can even convince our sweet little neighbor to join me.”

“We can dish up our eggs and head over there straightaway,” Sheila told him, patting his hand with an overbright smile.

Lily could see that Robbie was considering saying something, but she decided to head off an eruption between the brothers. They wanted things to stay harmonious. That kind of vibe led to double dates and frivolities. To saying more than was prudent. “Come on. The faster we run, the faster we get back. Unless you’re not up for the challenge.”

That statement had his fiery blue eyes meeting hers. “Oh, I’m up for it. Let’s go.”

She wiggled her fingers at Sheila, who wiggled hers back—God, she hated pretending to be a witless woman. Crossing the terrace, they walked in silence to the beach. She stretched her arms overhead on the way, gazing at Robbie surreptitiously. He was looking back at the house, his jaw tight.

“I’d understand if you don’t want to leave Tim alone,” she told him, bending at the waist to stretch her hamstrings.

He cracked his neck, a sound rife with tension, and started to stretch his own limbs. She had to look away as his muscles rippled from the motion, making her head turn fuzzy with instantaneous lust. So not part of her undercover packet.

“No, it should be fine.” Another crack sounded in his back as he gave a side stretch. “My mother used to say that if someone wasn’t screaming, there probably wasn’t blood on the floor. I don’t hear any screaming.”

A puff of laughter erupted from her. “Your mother sounds like she had her hands full.” Lily fisted her hands behind her back and arched her chest, telling herself to walk the line. Like the professional she was. Summer Sunshine didn’t know that he’d lost his mother when he was fifteen.

Then she caught Robbie’s eyes lingering on her and felt another bolt of white-hot heat explode in her midsection. Oh shit. “No one could say my mother had it easy with eight kids, seven of us boys. After spending time with the girls, I don’t know how she did it. They never stop. Even when they’re sleeping, they make me think about them. Reagan mumbles and tosses and turns while Cassidy is splayed out, making baby snores. I have renewed respect for mothers—”

He broke off, his face scrunching with distaste. She wondered if he’d felt he was sharing too much.

She started jogging, Robbie matching her speed. “And their mother?”

His mouth tightened. “I’ve always had respect for her. Never as much as I do now though. All right, let’s go.”

With that, he punched up his speed, stopping all conversation. She easily matched him, feeling the tug between guilt and a genuine desire to know more about him. Instead, she fell into her body and focused on her pace along with the nature around them. The seagulls were out screaming as they hunted in the ocean and soaring overhead. A few early swimmers were in the water, some with children, but the beach was mostly theirs, and theirs alone.

Robbie said nothing more, clearly focusing his strength on keeping up with her. She wasn’t breathing hard, but he was. Since it was near impossible to have a conversation this way, and she had questions, she cut back her speed.

His head whipped toward her, and his glare had her heart skipping a beat. “Don’t you dare go easy on me.”

There was a warning there, so she heeded it. He didn’t slow, so she increased her pace again. Sweat broke out across his arms and face. The hot humid air enveloped her like a steam room, but the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves made her happy as her body did its thing. She rarely got out to enjoy the beach in the Boston area, this being her first summer there. People raved about Cape Anne and Cape Cod, but she’d only gotten away once, only to be pulled back into the office over the weekend because their case had gotten hot. Running like this had always helped her feel like she could do anything.

“You have the nerve to smile like an angel while I’m puffing like a freight train?” He grunted, every muscle locked in his personal battle with himself.

Grumpy looked hot on him. Then again, she’d be hard-pressed to think of anything that didn’t look hot on him.

“You were the one who wanted to keep running at this pace. I was all for throttling back so we could have a pleasant conversation.”

“Running isn’t for chitchat.” He swiped an arm across the sweat on his forehead. “It’s to test yourself. To push yourself. To go past your limits. But dammit, Summer, you push me hard.”

She didn’t know what to say and looked off into the waves crashing on the beach beside them. His hand grazed her arm. She glanced over, uncomfortable moments with other men rising up in her mind. Her ability to outrun them had changed the way they’d interacted with her. Surely…

“I like it.” His sexy grin made her practically giddy. “Push me some more.”

Her internal temperature skyrocketed with those words, and the images that swam up in her mind weren’t fit for her undercover report. Ones that involved two sweat-slicked bodies falling to the sand. Locked around each other. Mouth to mouth. Skin to skin.

Sexy visions dancing in her head, she did as he’d demanded, pumping her arms more quickly as she increased her pace. The sand under her gave a little more with her speed. He was breathing hard, every muscle working, as he matched her. They raced up the sweep of the beach that fanned out to the left, and then he was throttling back.

“Okay, I’m going to have a heart attack if I keep that pace up,” he said in a raspy breath. “I’m almost forty, you know. Jesus!”

She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “That old, huh? Well, I’m glad you told me, Grandpa. Like I said yesterday, I’m trained in CPR. But you should probably run with a phone on you if you’re worried about collapsing. Or maybe you forgot your medical call alert bracelet back home?”

He had this sexy way of bunching his mouth when he didn’t want to be amused. She wanted to trace every inch of those chiseled lips. And then jump in his lap as she kissed that look off him.

Lily Meadows, remember your promotion.

“Why do you think I brought my home nurse along?” he bandied back after sucking in more oxygen.

Her laugh was as easy as the tide. God, he was so fun to be with. Why couldn’t she have met him in a normal setting? Would he have still been interested if he’d met her as Lily Meadows, FBI agent? Once he found out the truth, would he be able to see past the subterfuge and understand?

He’s lying about who he is too, she reminded herself, a thought that made her immediately feel better. They were both lying to each other as part of their respective jobs, so she could stop feeling guilty.

Why hadn’t this realization dawned on her earlier?

“What in the world are you laughing about?” he practically spat as he bent over at the waist, still breathing harshly.

“You!”

She studied him as his brow quirked in response, feeling a pull, same as always. He was the most compelling man she’d ever met. Could they start over as just themselves once this case was behind them? Because Lily Meadows knew the direction her heart was heading, and she very much wanted to keep whatever this thing was going…

“Given your medical status and all that huffing,” she said, now grinning from ear to ear, “we should stop and take your pulse.”

Her body felt rejuvenated from the run and the realization, and she was feeling lighter than air as she reached for his wrist. He slanted her an amused look but let her take his pulse.

“You’re within normal levels, albeit at the high end of the range.” She let go of his wrist and patted his sweat-slicked, hard chest. “You aren’t in danger of keeling over, Grandpa.”

He stepped closer, pressing his fingers to the pulse at her neck. “We should probably check you too. You’re way too precious to me at the moment. I’d hate to have something happen on my watch.”

Her heart did a jumping jack in her chest, and an ache of longing started in her belly before fanning out across her skin as he touched her. His fingers were rough-tipped and blistering hot, but it was the arousal in his liquid blue eyes that had her fighting a sensual moan. She wanted to close her eyes and lean into him, savoring the sensation of his sweat-slicked body against her own as the ocean thundered around them. But that would be too fast, especially given the night ahead. So she locked her muscles and fought the inner tension rippling through her, urging her to take things further.

His fingers trailed down her neck, causing a streak of fire before falling away. “Your pulse kicked up for a moment there. I wonder why.”

She pushed at his chest before starting to jog again. “You know why,” she called flirtatiously over her shoulder.

He let her run ahead of him as she punched her speed. They’d both fought the pull of the moment back there. Tonight might be another matter.

She bit her lip to shift her focus back onto the case. Robbie hadn’t responded to her comment about the phone, but she could press the issue later while teaching Reagan to surf.

Somewhere in that house, there had to be a phone. He had to be communicating with either his partner, Internal Affairs, or both. Maybe even Tara. Surely, very shortly, he would know about the arson at Tara’s salon. How would Robbie react to the news? Their attraction only added a new urgency to the case.

The sooner they closed the case, the sooner they could stop lying to each other and find out what was really between them—assuming he could get past how they’d met.