Summer Lovin (2 page)

He glanced down and realized he'd clenched his fists too tightly around the steering wheel, and loosened his grip. Thinking of Faith was always difficult. More so now that he understood what had happened after she'd run away.

Growing up, Ryan had alternated between missing his older sister and envying her the freedom he felt sure she'd finally found. Their conservative upbringing in an elite suburb of Boston, Massachusetts had never matched his sister's wilder personality. As his older brother, J.T., had already moved out, her running away had left Ryan as the only child at home. His parents had disowned Faith because of her defiance, and Ryan had caught on quickly, always behaving as expected.

Since J.T. had followed tradition and gone into the family department-store business to help his father and uncle, Ryan had become an attorney with the family's blessing. He was a partner in a firm downtown, distancing himself in ways his sister couldn't while she'd lived at home.

That distance had given him the strength to continue the search for his sister and it had finally paid off. He was on his way to meet his niece, a fourteen-year-old girl named Samantha who had been in and out of foster care since her mother's death six years ago. He planned to rescue his niece from that hellish fate and bring her home where she belonged.

He pulled up to a well-kept house in a suburban Jersey neighborhood. The clapboard siding was painted a cheery yellow with white trim and on the front lawn was a sign that read Costas Day Spa. Evening Hours Available.

He shrugged at the absurdity of the sign and turned off the ignition. The investigator had given him background information on the current family Samantha resided with and they were an odd bunch. Just a year ago, they'd made their living performing a Jersey Shore comedy act based on the Addams family. Now they ran a spa. With clients coming in and out, Ryan didn't consider it the ideal place to raise a child.

Surely his niece would be thrilled to find out she had a sane and stable uncle and family who wanted her. Well,
he
wanted her. The rest of the family, with the exception of his uncle Russ, wasn't so keen on bringing “his delinquent sister's child” back into the fold. He'd have to deal with his uptight parents later. In the meantime, he drew a deep breath, stepped from the car and straightened his tie before heading toward the house.

Music and laughter sounded from behind the home and when nobody answered the doorbell, he followed the path that led to the backyard. He looked around, taking in the sights. A disc jockey played loud music while a monkey—he blinked, certain he was seeing things, and looked again. Damn, it
was
a monkey, dancing onstage with a pretty blond teen.

He wondered if the girl was his niece and his heart twisted tight in his chest. A bunch of kids ran by him, laughing and giggling. He glanced up at the clear blue sky and for the first time he noticed, draped between two large trees, a banner that said Happy Birthday, Sam. Welcome to the Family.

A sick feeling of unease settled in his gut as he realized he wouldn't be waltzing in and
rescuing
his sister's child from an unfit, uncaring environment. Certain he needed to rethink and devise a new approach, he turned to leave when a light touch on his arm stopped him.

“You're here!” a female voice said.

He turned to see an attractive woman wearing a bright red kimono with long black hair flowing over her shoulders. Her outfit was unique and inexplicable. Where he came from, women dressed in designer dresses and suits. He didn't know what to make of the middle-aged geisha woman appraising him with frank, interested green eyes that made him squirm.

“I'm Elena Costas.” She treated him to a welcoming smile. “You must be the new man from Social Services. I know our caseworker is on vacation but she promised she'd send someone in her place to wish Sam a happy birthday—which you can do in a minute. Please, first come and meet my husband.”

A hint of Greek accented her speech and she spoke quickly without taking a breath, giving him no time to insert a word until she'd finished.

He wasn't the man from Social Services and it was best she knew it up front. “I think you're confusing me—”

Ignoring his protest, she grabbed his hand, pulling him farther into the crowd.

He groaned aloud but resigned himself to going along. Short of digging in his heels, nothing would stop this determined woman, but that didn't ease his sense of guilt. Trained by his parents, Ryan typically behaved above reproach. He preferred not to lie or cheat, but this woman had presented him with an opportunity. If Sam's foster family thought he was a social worker, they wouldn't turn him away.

Besides, he had no idea how Sam would react to him showing up in her life and he appreciated the chance to observe his niece and figure out a plan that would benefit them both. He assuaged his conscience by promising himself he'd correct the false assumption before any real damage was done.

Unfortunately they didn't get far before they were stopped again.

“Halt,” demanded a beautiful woman, a younger version of the one holding his hand.

Ryan couldn't help but stare. Her silky black hair twisted around shoulders bared by a lime-green halter top tucked into a pair of faded jeans. The shirt's bright color complemented her Mediterranean skin tone, which glowed beneath the afternoon sun. She completely entranced him.

The older woman he'd begun to think of as a tornado came to a stop and uttered a few words in Greek to her that he didn't understand before switching to perfect English.

“Zoe, this man is the replacement from Social Services, so make nice. I want him to meet your papa. Have you seen him?”

“He's inside getting the cake.” She gestured toward the house. “Mama, why don't you go round up Sam and her friends and get ready to sing?”

She possessed a deep voice that reminded him of hot sex and he felt himself begin to sweat beneath the afternoon sun.

Her mother nodded. “I forgot to defrost the cake so I hope your father remembers to bring hot water to dip the knife. And your aunt Kassie better behave because you know how badly she wanted to bake the cake. But we had to please Sam on her special day.” She glanced at Ryan and smiled broadly. “Carvel is Sam's favorite. Do you like ice-cream cake, Mr.…?”

“Baldwin. Ryan Baldwin.” His head was already spinning from his dealings with Elena Costas and he opted to use his real name for fear he'd confuse himself otherwise. With his sister's myriad name changes, he had no fear they'd connect him to Sara Morgan, Faith's last known name.

He forced a comfortable smile. “I love cake, especially Carvel.”

“Then let's do it so we can get to the gifts. I can't wait for Sam to see what we bought for her,” Elena said.

“Maybe we should wait until tonight when we're alone.” Zoe shot a pointed glance at Ryan.

Her mother shook her head. “Nonsense. Mr. Baldwin seems like the kind of man who'd want a young girl to be happy. I'm right, yes?” she asked.

“Uh, of course.” But he wondered what kind of gift Sam would be receiving that had Zoe uncomfortable.

“You see?” Elena took his hand once more, grabbed Zoe and headed deeper into the yard.

They came to a stop by a picnic table and while Elena busied herself gathering the girls, Zoe turned to Ryan, her eyes intense and serious. “You'll have to excuse my mother but she's so excited about this party. She just adores Sam and wants everything to be perfect. You'll like my family,” she assured Ryan, her need for his acceptance blatant.

In her mind, he was the social worker whose opinion would help determine whether they were an appropriate home for his niece. They needed to impress him. He needed for them to fail any inspection.

But as he observed her expressive face and the obvious pleasure she took in this entire day, he realized this was no act for a social worker. Zoe's love for his niece was so real, he couldn't help but like her for it.

“I'm sure I'll like your family,” he told her. Even if what he'd seen so far showed him a carnival atmosphere he couldn't possibly understand.

Zoe's shoulders eased and she seemed to relax. “How's Katherine's mother? We were all so sorry to hear she couldn't make it today because of her mother's fall.”

Katherine must be the missing social worker, he realized, the moment of panic passing. “She'll be okay.” He hoped he was telling the truth.

“Okay, cake time,” a male voice boomed through the loudspeakers. “Everyone gather.” He spoke slowly and with a more distinct accent than Zoe's mother had possessed.

“Where's Samantha?” Ryan asked, nerves jumbled together inside him.

“There,” Zoe said, pointing.

Ryan followed her direction and once again felt sure he was hallucinating. The monkey he'd seen earlier stood on the back of a large dog, balancing with ease. The animals came to a halt when a bald man carrying a huge ice-cream cake stepped forward. By his side walked a beautiful blond teenager, her hand tight in the crook of his elbow.

“Faith,” he said aloud.

“Sam. That's my soon-to-be sister, Samantha,” Zoe said with pride. “Of course we already think of her as part of the family,” she quickly assured him.

He nodded but couldn't speak any more than he could take his eyes off the girl who was the spitting image of his sister. At fourteen, Sam was three years younger than Faith had been at the time she'd run away. Sam possessed the same long, blond hair and similar features, with one marked difference. Where Faith had been morose, constrained by their conservative family's demands and expectations, Sam appeared vibrant, happy and full of life.

He swallowed over the lump in his throat. “She's a beautiful child.”

“Yes, she is. I'm sure the picture in Social Services files doesn't do her justice,” Zoe said.

He muttered a noncommittal reply.

Their conversation ended when the “Happy Birthday” song began. The monkey blew out the candles before Sam could get to them. Laughing, she gave the animal a high five and in turn the monkey blew her a raspberry and then shot her a huge grin followed by a kiss.

The routine seemed practiced. “It seems like she knows the monkey,” he said, wondering if he sounded as stupid as he felt.

“She does,” Zoe said, unfazed. “Spank lived here for a while.”

“Spank?”

“The monkey.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “Please don't ask, okay? She's gone. She lives with her trainer and we're not violating any laws or rules and we would never, ever put Sam or any other child in danger.” Zoe's once self-confident voice took on a pleading tone as she obviously realized she'd slipped with her admission.

Once more, he sought to reassure her. “I can see that you wouldn't.” Unable to stop himself, he reached out and touched her hand.

The spark of awareness was instant and energizing. His gaze immediately flew to hers and in those green eyes, he saw equal doses of surprise and pleasure.

He felt the same and knew he shouldn't because of who he was. But he let his fingertips linger. Her skin was soft, the texture as intriguing as the woman herself. He'd never felt such instant desire. How ironic it would be with a woman he couldn't allow himself to get close to.

She met his gaze and smiled, a full, honest, interested smile. Ryan didn't find trouble often, but he'd found it with Zoe Costas.

“Do you want to meet Sam? See for yourself how happy she is with my parents?” Her voice was a touch hoarser than before. The desire and awareness between them might be unspoken but it was now a tangible thing.

He nodded. “I'd like to meet her.”

“Sam!” Zoe called and the girl came running.

Her eyes lit up as she reached Zoe. “Hey, sis. Having fun?”

Sis.
He shuddered at the memory the word evoked and at the fact that his niece obviously already felt like part of the family.

“The best. I want you to meet someone.” Zoe gestured toward Ryan.

He straightened his shoulders, suddenly feeling stiff and uncomfortable as Sam looked him over from head to toe, then frowned. “I hope he's not your boyfriend.” She wrinkled her nose in the disgust only a teenager could demonstrate.

Clearly he'd come up lacking. He tried not to let it bother him since she didn't know him yet.

“Sam, that's not nice,” Zoe chided. “And Mr. Baldwin happens to be Katherine's replacement. He's your social worker, not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, man, I'm sorry.” The young girl glanced down and began fingering old keys that dangled from a chain around her neck.

Scared? Chastised? He wasn't sure but finally she looked up again, meeting his gaze.

“Hey, mister, I bet I can tell you where you got them shoes,” Sam said, her joke an obvious attempt at bravado in the face of her mistake.

He shot Zoe a questioning look.

She grinned, clearly amused but not giving away any of Sam's secrets.