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

Parents needed mobile hazmat teams on call twenty-four seven.

How had no one suggested this?

As Robbie peeled back the diaper he was helping Tim change, he nearly let out a cry at the contents. No chemical spill could be as bad as this mess. Carefully, he drew the diaper out and folded it, trying not to gag. Cassidy kicked her little legs, babbling, as she lay on the living room floor on the changing pad Tim had snuck under her, clearly unaware they were saving her from the battery acid she’d emitted.

Talk about bad luck. He shouldn’t be still thinking about the gorgeous blonde they’d just met on the beach, one both mega-hot and sweet. Was the universe laughing at him? Was this its follow-up joke after he’d thought closing a case on a bad guy was better than sex? It had to deliver a girl he would totally go for normally at a time when it was impossible.

“Ugh!” Reagan’s face scrunched up. “That’s the most magic you’ve ever had, Cassidy. Too bad you don’t make glitter instead of poop.”

Cassidy giggled in response. How could she be so happy when she stunk so bad?

Billie nudged him hard in the ribs. “I’m going to have nightmares. You owe me, brother. Like a case of Irish whiskey owe me.”

“Look.” Robbie gave him a shove back as he secured the radioactive package. “It’s not my fault she had a hurricane in there.”

“’Cane,” Cassidy said, clapping as she lay on her back.

Tim lifted her up. “Someone grab me our new baby garbage pail. I’m going to need a lot of wipes.”

Robbie felt the urge to hurl, but he grabbed the can after depositing the diaper. Cassidy tried to roll onto her side to see what was going on. “Grab her,” Tim cried as Billie lurched forward on the floor to gently hold her in place. “She’s a shifty one. Who knew anyone who looked so sweet could do a poopsie like this?”

A poopsie? He and Billie traded a look. Tim was showing them why he’d been voted Nurse of the Month six times at the retirement home, a record their father had told them all about. Suddenly, all he could think about was how his dad was faring in Ireland. Probably worried sick. Kathleen, too.

He wondered if the Kellys had visited O’Connor’s Pub or any of his other brothers. They’d probably gone by Billie’s two mechanic shops, but the guys who worked there knew how to wield a wrench or a crowbar. Some of Billie’s guys had even done time, although not for anything that would make Robbie worry about having them around his family.

The biggest concern he had right now was about Tim’s girlfriend. If the Kellys sent someone to check out the retirement home, they might find out he was dating another nurse. They could question her. Maybe even grab her.

When he’d shared his concerns with Tim, his brother had told him not to worry. The relationship wasn’t public, given they worked together, and it had only started three months ago, so there was no reason for the Kellys to find out. Besides, he hadn’t told Helen about Tara or the kids—he’d just said he had to leave town to help his brother with an urgent family matter and couldn’t be in touch while he was gone.

God, it was too bad he and Mickey had agreed that his partner would have no contact with any of the O’Connors while he was gone, but it had seemed wise since Mickey was working with Internal Affairs. He had to be extra careful with everything at stake.

“Earth to Robbie,” Tim called after sanitizing his hands. “I’m ready for the fresh diaper.”

“Here.” He snagged one from the bedazzled diaper bag, which was now thankfully free of mob money, and thrust it out. “And don’t make this worse by quoting Shakespeare.”

“Yeah,” Billie added in solidarity. “Don’t do it, Timmy.”

Since they’d been stupid and given Tim ammunition with the whole Shakespeare crap, their baby brother had been a quoting fountain, knowing it was driving them nutters. Worse, the girls loved it when Tim poured on a British accent and belted out those “funny words” as Reagan called them.

“Too bad. I had the perfect one from Hamlet,” Tim said, deftly affixing the diaper and lifting Cassidy up for a kiss on the cheek.

“I want to hear it!” Reagan cried, jumping up and down.

“Please!” Cassidy added, throwing out her chubby little arms.

“My offense is rank, it smells to heaven.”

His lyrical booming British voice was completely different from his usual rough Southie accent. It was incredible. Suddenly, Robbie wished he could take a video and share it with the rest of the family. Even if it was ridiculous, it would be a good laugh. God, he even missed sending around his stupid criminal videos. His mood crashed.

He was used to action. To doing what he wanted, when he wanted. Now he was in Kiddieville, changing diapers, dressing Barbies, and preparing chicken nuggets. His bravest act was chasing a toddler down so she didn’t drown in the ocean. Jesus, this trip was already killing him. And the cat still hated him…

He spied the family room, sensing it was around.

“Hey!” Billie gave him another nudge to the ribs. “What about our beautiful neighbors? Especially that angel, Summer—”

“We’re here to look after the girls.” Even Tim turned from making baby faces at Cassidy at the sound of his gruff voice. “I was just thinking it was fate’s big joke on me to meet a woman I’d like to ask out while we’re here, but let’s stay focused.”

“You’d like to ask her out?” Billie glanced at Tim, and then both of them stared at their older brother. Even Reagan was studying him, which made Cassidy turn her big blue eyes toward him too.

“My oldest brother who has been off women—”

“We have a job to do, Billie, one I take very seriously.” Maybe he would need to remind himself every time he saw Summer, but there wasn’t another option. “I expect you to do the same, and not go off like you’re on the prowl on a Friday night in Southie.”

“What’s on the prowl?” he heard Reagan ask.

That made him wince. He turned, feeling like he’d failed at being a good role model. God, he’d done his best with that responsibility as the oldest of eight kids. He’d savored never having to do it again.

“What’s with the whole magic in the pants thing?” Billie bandied back at Reagan as Robbie took the opportunity to wander off toward the patio window.

Mr. Deflection was in the house. Robbie wondered if that was how his brother handled women when they said they loved him. Not that his brother led anyone on. He was always completely straightforward. But that didn’t mean people didn’t fall for each other, even if it was one-sided. Billie said people suddenly up and “got ideas.”

That was something Robbie understood firsthand. He’d tried to be straightforward with the women he’d dated after his divorce, but he quickly fell into a pattern with everyone he dated. In the beginning, she’d say she understood his need to keep things casual, but a few months in, she’d get all clingy and gushy about how great he was and how she’d fallen for him.

The hurt, the drama, and the complications had led him to stop trying, resigning himself to getting laid less, sure. Pouring himself into work and being with family helped. But he still felt a hole in his life—not that he’d ever admit it out loud.

He carried another hole around inside him, from when his mother had died. He figured he could learn to carry this one too, after a near lifetime spent carrying the other.

He’d loved his ex-wife, but he was a cop, through and through, and after five years of marriage, she’d started to pressure him to quit and find another profession. She’d used ruthless words, whispered after hot sex.

If you love me…

If you believe in us…

God, she’d tried to manipulate him and guilt him at every turn until he’d finally concluded she wouldn’t stop. Southie girls were like that. In the end, they were both miserable. Unfulfilled. He’d packed up what he’d wanted from their apartment and left, leaving her a brief note on the kitchen counter after telling her they should get a divorce. I’m sorry. I can’t change.

If you asked him today, he’d still say no one should have to change who they were to have someone love them or stay with them. Love was a choice. First, last, and always. His ex had gone back on her choice to love a cop. He loved his job and he was good at it.

“Hey, Robbie!” Tim called, coming over and putting his hand on his shoulder. “Reagan said Tara didn’t want the girls to feel bad when they fart, so she told them it means they have a lot of magic inside them. I can’t wait to use that at Serenity Gardens. Come on. We’re going to fly that kite Billie bought.”

“Yeah, come on!” Reagan said, running over and taking Tim’s hand. “Cassidy wants to fly a kite too.”

“She does?” Tim danced over to the little girl on the floor and scooped her up. “Then fly it we shall. High into the heavens, where all the magic in the universe lies.”

Robbie regarded Billie as they left the room to find the kite. “Magic, huh?” he said distractedly. “Our baby brother is beyond addled. He’s—”

“Just because I appreciate a beautiful woman doesn’t mean I’m not taking this situation seriously.” His brother lifted his massive chin. “Same goes for you.”

His exhale was charged with frustration. “I’m sorry I implied that. I’m… Hell, I’m not used to playing on the beach and changing diapers. I’m used to—”

“I know what you’re used to.” Billie planted his feet. “Which is why it’s so colossal that you actually admitted to wanting to go out with that sweet woman next door.”

He was so not having this conversation. “Don’t turn into Tim and make me talk about my feelings.”

Billie’s mouth tipped to the right, and a rusty laugh snuck out. “Fine. How about we throw the football around outside and act like real men? Not diaper-changing pansies.”

Now they were talking. “Tackle or touch?”

Billie cracked his neck. “What do you think? And hey…maybe our next-door neighbors will enjoy a game of shirtless football. It’s the least we can do for Summer for helping soothe Cassidy.”

Robbie’s pulse sped up. He’d noticed Summer sneaking a glance at his bare chest earlier. “You’ve got a one-track mind.”

“Which I thank God for as a meat-eating, women-loving man.” He slung his arm around Robbie. “You might try easing up on yourself. Flirting with the girl next door could release some of your tension. Are you always like this at work?”

He thought of his partner giving him a gift certificate for a massage last Christmas. Mostly as a joke. Of course, he hadn’t used it. He’d given it to Tara instead. God, Tara. Where was she today? What was she doing? “I’m worse,” he finally answered. “I’m every criminal’s worst nightmare.”

Billie erupted with laughter, dragging him down the stairs. Miss Purrfect hissed as they appeared, jumping off her sunny perch on the couch with a menacing meow before tugging at her collar again.

“Evidently, she doesn’t like the new collar,” he noted to Billie. “Maybe it’s all the rhinestones.”

“Yeah, Tim caught that, but Reagan said Tara told her to never remove it, or she’d get lost. Besides, it’s not like I want to get close to that cat.”

“Me either.” He watched as Miss Purrfect gave them another glare, put her tail in the air, and grandly swept past them to the kitchen.

“Talk about the cold shoulder,” Billie joked, clutching his heart playfully. “Maybe I’ve lost my sex appeal.”

“I can’t stand to look at you.”

Robbie grabbed the football Billie had bought and followed his brother out onto the beach. Tim and the girls were already up a ways flying the kite. Summer and her friend were sitting on their towels, talking, clearly checking them out.

Her obvious regard gave him permission to admire her. Summer made quite the picture with the ocean breeze ruffling those long blond locks. Sunlight kissed her tall, slender frame and all the places that brought men to their knees. Her slow smile seemed in response to his appearance, and God help him, he felt the urge to smile back.

Billie ran over to them, grinning that “sex appeal” smile he was famous for. Summer—he still couldn’t believe her parents had chosen that name—smiled as his brother started talking, but her friend leaned forward in her black bikini and swept her hair over her shoulder, clearly interested. She was so Billie’s type, sexy with a voluptuous body to match, and Billie puffed up like a rooster when she laid her slender hand on his forearm. Idiot.

Robbie sent the football flying, knowing it would annoy his brother. Billie’s head jerked to the side moments before the perfect spiral nailed him in the shoulder, and he caught it one-handed. Sending back a raised brow, he refocused on the ladies and said something to make them laugh.

Only Summer snuck a peek Robbie’s way…

Their eyes locked, and his heart picked up speed. So, he appreciated a beautiful woman. He was still a man. Didn’t mean he was going to do anything about it. But God, he was tempted, seeing her lying on her side, her bare legs a feast for his senses. She was gorgeous and nice. What stranger would help a screaming child and then handle an explosive diaper with humor? This was not a Friday night pickup kind of girl. This was a woman who was comfortable with herself, clearly good with kids, outgoing—

She wasn’t smiling now. What was she thinking as she looked so seriously at him? That he needed a good woman to soften him? Make him happy? Right. Until she decided to start changing him and the life and career he’d made, one he was proud of, one he’d hoped his woman would be proud of.

He let his gaze sweep over the nice line of her trim shoulders and back. Her blond hair was windblown and a little frizzy. Oddly, it made her look sexier. She had a trim waist to go along with those endless legs. When she’d come to stand beside him earlier, he’d noted she was tall, coming to his shoulder in bare feet. Five-ten, he’d bet.

Her eyes had been as green as a shamrock and warm with compassion. He could feel himself wanting to look more, and that was a problem. At one time, he might have decided to pursue a vacation fling, but he was older and wiser, and he had a serious job to do, protecting Tara’s girls.

But damn, she made it hard for him to concentrate, which Billie proved easily by sneakily throwing a pass back to him when he was admiring Summer.

The football nailed him in the face.