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

Robbie O’Connor didn’t look like he was going to give in to his attraction and cozy up to her.

Sure, she’d known he was going to be a hard nut to crack, but she’d thought she’d laid a brick in the foundation of rapport between them when she’d helped Cassidy. But while he’d looked his fill and earned a bruised cheek for his trouble, he hadn’t come over with his brother to strike up a conversation.

He’d simply walked away with the football to where his other brother, Tim, was flying the kite with the two ecstatic girls jumping up like colorful little pogo sticks at the edge of the glittering aquamarine water.

“Don’t mind my brother,” Billie said, catching her glance, his shadow looming large as he stood beside Sheila. “Robbie’s a great guy. He just has a lot on his plate. But tell me more about you ladies. How long are you here?”

Sheila tipped her oval face up and gave him a beaming smile that showed off the pink lip gloss she’d carefully applied. Billie leaned in closer as she delivered an account of their cover story. Two childhood best friends. Yada yada. Billie said he thought it was great how tight they were. That good friends—like family—were what mattered most in life. Yeah, he was selling them a story too in his own way.

Lily let her friend do her thing, her attention drawn to the others as Reagan and Cassidy screeched in delight. A smile snuck across her face. Robbie had boosted Reagan on his shoulders and was running as she flew the billowing orange and turquoise kite. Tim scooped Cassidy up and jogged behind them, the little girl waving madly in encouragement. The football lay forgotten on the beach, the tide flirting with it on each rush toward the sandy shore.

Lily rather liked the fact that Robbie wasn’t going to let himself be distracted by single women on a beach holiday when he had a bigger goal—protecting those sweet girls.

Ironically, he seemed to be exactly the sort of guy she really wanted to date. Because the FBI preferred for their agents to have had previous work experience before joining the Bureau, she’d chosen to be a kindergarten teacher in the Bay Area, knowing she wanted to ultimately work on cases involving children. During that time, she’d been in a two-year relationship with a tech engineer. He’d known she was planning to apply to the FBI once she’d reached the “magic” entry age—thirty years old—but when the time came, he’d told her he liked things as they were and wasn’t interested in being involved with someone who worked in a high-stakes profession that involved plenty of moving around the country as part of climbing up the career ladder.

Even though she’d loved him, she’d wanted to be in the FBI since she’d been a young woman. She was not going to give up her plans, especially not for someone who didn’t truly understand how important they were to her.

It turned out he wasn’t the only one who felt that way about dating an FBI agent. While she was never without invitations to go out, most guys didn’t call her back for another date once they learned what she did for a living.

Sheila liked to say it was akin to wearing flea repellant instead of perfume.

As she watched Billie crouch down onto his haunches next to Sheila, flirting like it was his job, she wondered what the Vin Diesel doppelganger would think if he ever learned the truth. Would Sheila still be making him grin, or would he feel threatened? Hard call. As a successful mechanic, he likely hung around men all day—much like Robbie. Men who worked in alpha male hives were often threatened by strong women.

The FBI was the perfect example. She’d been asked out by other officers, but most of them were arrogant and used to getting any woman they wanted because they were FBI officers. Fit. Hot. Cocky.

Some women really got off on that, and while Lily saw the appeal, she’d made it a policy to never date a fellow officer. There was enough sexual harassment regardless, and opening that door to being seen as “easy” or “available” was a good way to cause even more trouble, not to mention professional suicide. She was known for being an effective officer but reserved, despite her Sunshine nickname. That was fine by her.

Women at the FBI needed to work harder to prove themselves, much like women in many professions. While her superior female officers said the FBI had gotten better, it was still an old boys’ network. She navigated that as best she could by busting her butt and keeping up with her cases. Collaring the bad guys and bringing in money were two things that got you promoted and left alone.

This current case with the Kellys involved both, and they were still waiting to hear whether Internal Affairs had reported the mob money from Tara’s nail salons to the Organized Crime task force that involved Boston police, the FBI, the DEA, and other law enforcement agencies. Sheila had bet her a case of coconut water it wouldn’t be reported. Lily had countered with Lindt chocolates, arguing that if it wasn’t, it might be because IA wanted to run a contained operation. Too many cooks in the kitchen and all…

“You know, Summer was just saying how gorgeous it is here too!” Sheila swatted Lily playfully, drawing her back into the conversation. “This is our first time in the Outer Banks, and there’s so much to explore. We read about this great bar and grill that has live music a couple of nights a week. What’s the name again, Sunshine?”

She wanted to grit her teeth as Sheila’s hazel eyes danced with glee. “Umm…something with brewers in it. I’ll have to check.” Being too prepared was a no-no on cover ops.

“I can ask our landlady for suggestions.” Billie rubbed the back of his clean-shaven head, which she hoped he’d smeared with sunscreen. “Maybe you two would like to go out for a drink after our girls hit the hay? The last couple of nights they pretty much fell flat on their faces after dinner. My mom would say too much fresh air and sun.”

“I understand the feeling.” Sheila gave her signature murmur, arching her neck, eyes closed, and rubbing her fingers through her thick black hair. It worked like a charm on every man. “I’m still exhausted after finishing up a huge audit with one of my clients. I was practically whimpering by the end.”

Lily almost hoped Billie would ask her more about her work because Sheila could back it up. Interested in working on major fraud and corruption cases someday, her partner had gotten an accounting degree and practiced as a certified accountant until she’d applied for the FBI at thirty.

“Sounds like you haven’t had much fun lately,” Billie commented, shifting on his haunches as his hand came closer to her towel, clearly uninterested in shop talk. “We should do something about that.”

“Yes, we should.” Sheila opened her eyes and gave him another beaming smile. “You should see if one of your brothers wants to come along. That way someone could still stay with those cute little girls. Or… Me and Summer could swing by with the drinks. I make a very authentic margarita.”

Lily knew this line. “Trust me, it’s not to be missed.”

Someone shouted up the beach, and they all turned. Robbie was flicking his hand in their direction, as if beckoning his brother to join the family. Billie rolled his eyes before saying, “I’d better get back to family time. Let’s figure something out, though. Be fun to have a drink.”

“You know where we are,” Sheila murmured, turning on her side to show off her luscious curves as Billie rose to his feet.

He pursed his lips, clearly admiring, and then gave another winning smile. “I sure do. See you, ladies.”

As he ran off, Sheila lay on her back and sighed. “He’s going to be easy, just like I thought. Robbie, however, seems determined to fight his attraction for you, which has me wanting to throw you at him.”

“Sheila, I doubt you could throw me,” she said dryly.

“If Billie gets us into their house, we’ll see if they have a phone we can ask for a wiretap on. Maybe Tara’s in touch with them, checking up on her girls.”

“Robbie would know it’s a risk.”

Sheila took a drink from her water bottle. “True, but we’ll still tap something if we can. Oh, and I’d like to extract the cat tracker—unless you think we should leave it in case they run on us like Tara did.”

They didn’t have an official search warrant for the house, but they could look around. If they spotted something, they could ask for one. “Let’s keep the tracker,” Lily commented, watching as Billie scooped Reagan off his brother’s shoulders and took off farther up the beach, the kite continuing to streak through the clear blue cloudless sky.

Sheila sat up. “You know, Billie is kinda hot and he does seem good with kids. Let’s hope his flirting will lead him to unburdening himself on little ol’ me.”

Lily studied the group as Tim chucked Cassidy under the cheeks, making her squeal and flail her little arms. Robbie stood staring out at the ocean. In profile, he was compelling. Hard angular jaw. A solitary demeanor. Yet connected when needed—like when Cassidy reached for him. He took her easily from Tim and propped her on his hip, saying something to Tim that made him throw back his head with laughter.

“I don’t think either of Robbie’s brothers up and took vacation from their full-time jobs without being told why.” She pulled her knees to her chest, analyzing. “They’re tight. Did you notice how Billie said nothing about them and kept the questions about you?”

“Yeah, but players are good like that.” Sheila opened the sunscreen and squeezed some onto her arms. “The less details, the less to remember with multiple women.”

“That’s true, but I don’t think he’s going to reveal anything that might hurt his cousin or those little girls.” Lily took the sunscreen and applied some to her shoulders, grimacing at the greasy feel. “They were raised in Southie. People get cut or killed for talking out of turn.”

“Meaning they have trust issues.” Sheila lay back and rolled her shoulders. “We really are kindred spirits. I know you won’t want to make a run at Reagan to see what she knows.”

Her stomach knotted with tension. “I know it’s part of the job, and as a kid who helped an undercover FBI agent unknowingly, I understand the merits. But I’d prefer to go for adult source info if possible.”

Sheila patted her hand. “You’re all tense now, and I’m sorry. I know it bothers you. It’s not my favorite way to get information either, but if we need to go there—”

“Then we will.” She pressed her hand to her locked diaphragm. “When we’ve exhausted other options.”

“Meaning we need to figure out how to get Robbie talking to you, since he has the most info. Clearly, you’ve turned on his reptilian brain.”

“Sheila, that’s so gross.”

“That football nailing his face almost had me guffawing.”

“It was a big compliment, wasn’t it?” she said, her lips twitching at the memory.

“One of my best moments was when a man ran into a lamppost as I was walking out of Quincy Market,” her partner added, readjusting her thick black sunglasses. “Between your looks and your Miss Confessor profile, you’re a shoo-in to get some useful information.”

She sure hoped so. She had to trust in her skills. Adults had told her their secrets since she was a child, sensing both compassion and a safe space. She had more confidential informants than anyone else in her division because of it. In truth, knowing things no child should have known at her age had helped her. The undercover female FBI agent who had infiltrated the cult her mother had joined had done the rest. Brie Thierry was the FBI agent who had inspired her to join the Bureau. She was the FBI officer that Lily Meadows wanted to be.

“Why don’t you run into the ocean and then pretend you have a cramp?” Sheila suggested, reaching into her beach bag for a bag of pistachios. “Robbie just handed Cassidy back to Tim. We know his protective instincts are high. He’d surge into the surf and save you, and then you’d be all wet and slick in his arms as he carried you safely back to shore. Then he’d lay you down and hover over you in all his masculine glory and likely put his hands on your poor little calf. Batting your eyelashes could seal the deal.”

She suddenly felt sick. God, the job sometimes was too much. She spotted the football they’d been throwing roll into the ocean with the surging tide and float off. “How about I just go get their ball?”

Sheila snorted with laughter. “Make sure to use both your hands, Summer. It looks awfully big.”

Chuckling to herself, she jogged up the shoreline and darted into the surf as the ball floated past. Untangling the seaweed clutching the pigskin, she felt the sand give under her bare feet as the tide went out again. As a child, she’d always feared this moment. Maybe it was because she’d already understood how dangerous life could be when the ground under you started to shift and change. There was nothing to hold on to. She’d learned to navigate that feeling well, and she was smiling as she left the waters.

She had this.

Robbie was watching her when she turned with the football in hand. She looked back at him, knowing Sheila was right. This was another opportunity, an opening. She could jog over to him, giving him a good view of her bikini-clad body. But he’d proved he wasn’t a man who could be so easily swayed by a flash of ass. She’d read his file over a dozen times, looking for insights into his personality, the drivers anyone undercover looked for to tip things in their favor. He was divorced, she knew, and unlike many cops, he hadn’t remarried right away. In fact, he hadn’t remarried at all in the past five years. That suggested he’d gotten a tough lesson about law enforcement—that it often didn’t mesh with family life. Still, family was clearly critical to who he was.

He wouldn’t be looking for an easy score. He’d be looking for an equal, someone who could challenge him. She drew back her arm and let the ball fly. In her previous career as a teacher, she’d played with plenty of balls during recess. She was a good athlete—hadn’t she set a record for running up Radar Hill at Quantico during her FBI training? As an FBI officer, she’d been part of team-building exercises involving flag football and softball. She threw a damn good spiral.

His look of shock as he caught the ball against his chest pleased her. Even at thirty yards away, she noted the way his brow lifted, amused. She let her smile coast over her face, and this time, it wasn’t her fake cover smile.

Then she turned around to walk back to Sheila, and if she let her butt sway more than it needed to, well, that wasn’t part of her cover story either.

She had just found her strategy with which to hook Robbie O’Connor.