Summer Lovin (8 page)

“And I'm serious. If you need anything—”

“She knows who to turn to.” Zoe prodded him in the back. “Come.”

He narrowed his gaze. She was a damn pushy woman, but he couldn't deny he was glad to see her after the weekend apart. Just knowing Zoe was a member of this family eased Ryan's mind about Sam's safety. Zoe could be trusted to take good care of her.

“Elena, you
will
use the locks in the future,” he stated, not asked.

“Yes.”

“I will see to it, Mr. Baldwin.” Nicholas held his hand up in the air. “I promise you Samantha is safe with us.”

Ryan merely nodded and this time allowed Zoe to practically shove him out of the kitchen, then the family room and finally the house.

Once they were in the sunshine, she pasted a bright smile on her face and asked, “My car or yours? Actually why don't I drive since you don't know your way around here and I go to the diner all the time. This way we won't get lost and we'll be eating in no time.”

He already knew Zoe rambled when she was worried and now was no different.

He remained quiet on the way to wherever the restaurant was and let Zoe point out sights and continue to talk. He liked listening to her voice and despite their odd circumstances, she soothed his nerves.

Too much, considering everything that lay between them.

 

A
FTER
Z
OE PARKED
in the graveled lot, Ryan followed her into the local diner. “So your aunt Kassie owns this place?” he asked.

Zoe nodded. “She's my father's sister.”

“I met her that first night.”

He settled into a seat across from Zoe in a tight booth with an individual coin-operated jukebox on the wall by the window. “They don't have anything quite like this in Boston.” He glanced around at the linoleum floors, the blue vinyl seats and paper place mats printed with various advertisements.

She tipped her head to the side and those long, dark strands brushed her shoulders. “Oh really? Because they aren't upscale?”

He read the wariness in her tone. “No, because from my understanding, a traditional diner is a New York/New Jersey thing.”

“We're Greek. Diners are our heritage,” a female voice said.

He glanced up to see a dark-haired woman standing by the table.

“Hi, Daph. Meet Sam's social worker, Ryan Baldwin. Daphne's my first cousin,” Zoe explained.

“Nice to meet you, Daphne.” Ryan shook the other woman's hand, but his mind was on how seamlessly Zoe had lied to yet another family member and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Need menus?”

Zoe waved a hand, indicating she didn't. “But I'm sure Ryan does seeing as how he's never been to a diner before.”

He caught the snicker in her voice and shot her a scowl. “I'd appreciate a menu,” he told Daphne.

The waitress handed him what felt more like a pile of laminated lead. “Take your time,” she said, but continued to stand over him.

He glanced from Daphne, who was beautiful in a more made-up way than her cousin, back to Zoe again.

Zoe let out an exaggerated sigh. “You can go now, Daph.”

“Are you sure he's just the social worker?” She leaned down, giving him a gratuitous view of her cleavage.

“I'm sure he's just the social worker.” Zoe shook her head and laughed. “Daphne loves to snoop into her cousins' lives because she doesn't have a love life of her own.”

“Aha! So you admit he's more than a social worker.”

Zoe turned beet red. “I admit no such thing.”

“You just did by the color in your cheeks.”

Ryan had never been around this kind of family teasing and he took pity on Zoe. “I'll have eggs over easy and white toast with butter,” he said hoping to distract Daphne from the more personal issues.

“Tsk-tsk, cholesterol heaven. I'll tell Dad to make it egg whites so you'll live a long, healthy life.” She snatched his menu. “You'll have the usual, Zoe?”

She nodded and Daphne finally left them alone.

“So what's the usual?” he asked.

“Old-fashioned French toast.”

“What makes it old-fashioned?”

She raised her eyebrows, obviously surprised. “Old-fashioned is made on regular bread, not the extrathick kind.”

“Aha.” He glanced over his shoulder in time to see their waitress enter the swinging kitchen doors, then turned back to Zoe. “So what do you do for a living?” he asked now that he was certain Cousin Daphne had disappeared.

Zoe leaned both elbows on the table and edged forward. “So what makes you ask?” She knew Ryan had given her more information about himself than she'd reciprocated, yet this sudden question took her by surprise.

He shrugged. “I'm not sure. You don't seem to be having much trouble helping me act the social worker role in front of your family. I mean look how easily you just lied to Daphne.”

She narrowed her gaze. “So?”

“So lying comes easily to you. I read about your family's cons. I've seen the old newspaper articles. The ‘Alien Twins Invade New Jersey' photograph in
The National Enquirer
—”

“Hey just because my mother put self-tanning lotion on us and we turned orange—”

“A normal family wouldn't have leveraged it into a national spectacle.”

Zoe rolled her eyes and laughed at the memory. “‘All the news that's fit to print.'”

“That particular slogan belongs to
The New York Times
.”

Daphne arrived with their coffees, placing their cups on the table. Before Zoe could send her on her way, she said, “I know, I know, I'm going. I'll give you privacy.” Shaking her head, she walked away, her heels clicking.

“So besides finding sensationalism amusing and protecting my family, what else am I doing wrong in your eyes?” Zoe asked.

He ran his hand through his hair, messing up that always perfect coif. “It isn't wrong, it's different. And I'm allowing for it,” he admitted. “All of you just take some getting used to.”

She grinned. “We do tend to grow on you. Oh, and to get back to your original question, I used to be a Secret Service agent.”

“Wow.” He leaned closer, staring at her intently. “What made you choose the Secret Service?”

“Hmm. I'd have to say the excitement of the training is what lured me into the FBI initially. Later I chose Secret Service because I loved meeting new people. And since I was in the lower echelons of government protection, I didn't have to leave my family.” She spread her hands wide. “For the most part it was a win-win situation.”

“But?”

“What?”

“You said for the most part it was win-win. What didn't you like?”

She grinned. “As you might guess, the strict rules and regulations didn't agree with me. I mean after I had to be forced into a safe house and my family thought I was dead, the agency ripped into me but good. Of course, I did it
for
my family, but did anyone understand? Nope.” She paused for a sip of coffee. “Forced confinement can really make a person evaluate what's important and I wanted more out of my career than a strict, by-the-book environment.”

He looked at her for a moment as though to take in all of what she'd revealed. “Not a shock,” he finally said and he laughed, and Zoe realized exactly what she found most attractive about him.

The dimples he showed when he smiled. Really smiled, not the forced kind when he was trying to figure her family out or pretend to like a situation when he was really confused. The dimples that didn't seem to go with the Italian-cut suits he favored, like the navy one he wore today. Also appealing was the way he kissed, something she hadn't been able to get out of her mind all weekend.

“Am I that predictable?” she asked.

“I definitely hadn't pegged you for an agent of any kind, but now that I know you, I'm sure the rules made you insane. But at least I understand how you hold on to a poker face so easily. So, what are you doing now that your federal career is behind you?”

She rubbed her hands together, the excitement she felt in talking about her new business growing. “I'm in business with Quinn and Connor. We're going to provide protection for movie stars and musicians coming to entertain in Atlantic City. In fact, we just took on our first official client this morning. GSC Music.”

He nodded and she could see from his expression that she'd impressed him.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“I need to ask another question.”

She laughed. “Anyone tell you you're nosy?”

“Only when it comes to you,” he said, sounding a bit stunned by the admission. “What did your mother whisper to you before we left the house?”

She hadn't realized he was paying attention. “She asked me to stick close to Sam's social worker.”

He reached for the centerpiece on the table and rolled it between his palms. “And you didn't feel guilty?”

“Of course I did, but let me tell you something. I'd feel guiltier if I told her the truth before I knew enough about you and your family. I need time with you. You need time with Sam. I think we both understand and agree on that, don't we?”

He nodded slowly. “I do. And I think you're an incredible woman, Zoe Costas.”

Something about the way he said her name sent tremors of awareness down her spine. Again. The man was amazing, from his caring nature to his potent sex appeal. Her fingers itched with the uncontrollable urge to touch his hand. A simple touch, though the feelings he evoked were much more complex than simple.

She glanced down at his hands, in which he still held the infamous Paradeisos centerpiece. Zoe immediately realized what anatomy part he held in his hand and the sensuality surrounding her evaporated in favor of a fit of laughter. She knew the moment he noticed it, too, because he dropped the centerpiece, a naked Greek god with flowers nestled in his—

“And they call this a family restaurant?” Ryan asked, clearly in shock.

“Yep.” Daphne replied as she placed their meals on the table. “Normal doesn't exist in our family or hadn't you noticed?” She laughed, stopping when Zoe stretched a leg out and blatantly kicked her in the shin.

“Right. Social worker. Got it. I'm going. Enjoy your food.”

Zoe laughed as her cousin departed again. “Usually she's the hostess, but Gus is out sick, so she's filling in waiting on tables.” She poured some syrup over her French toast. “So you haven't asked about the break-in.”

He placed his fork down and met her stare. “I figured you'd fill me in when you were ready. I take it you're ready now?”

She shrugged. “No time like the present. I don't know all that much. Mom forgot to set the alarm when she went for her walk, I'd already left for work and Dad was sleeping without his hearing aids in. Sam stepped out of the bathroom and heard noises coming from her room. With my father snoring in his bed, she knew something was wrong and remained out of sight until he left.”

“I didn't realize he was in Sam's room,” he said, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “And you said nothing was taken?”

“That's right. I mean it's too soon to know for sure, but at first glance everything looked messed up but nothing more.”

“Any chance this man was looking for something because someone in your family was up to something?”

“Such as?” She batted her eyelashes at him too innocently, she knew.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Zoe. You have to know I'm aware that your family hasn't always been on the up-and-up.”

“Hey no one's ever been arrested.”

“So, they skate the perimeters of the law.” He sliced his hand through the air. “That's semantics. You even said yourself that you were involved in something that landed you in protective custody. So I'm asking, could someone in your family be involved in something that led to today's break-in?”

He'd leaned forward in his seat so she couldn't mistake his serious expression, and his intense stare would brook no jokes or lies.

“I don't know.” She'd lost her appetite and she pushed her plate away.

“I'm sorry,” he said in a gruff voice.

“For pointing out the obvious? Don't be. After we eat, I need to go take care of some things.” Make some phone calls, she thought. Talk to Quinn. The police. Find out what was really going on in her own home.

He ate his food in silence and she sat stiffly, keeping him company, until finally he spoke. “I'd like to spend time with Sam this afternoon.”

She coughed. “Excuse me. Spend time with Sam…how?”