Summer Lovin (24 page)

Ryan narrowed his gaze, confused. “You'd been helping her. Why would she turn on you before leaving?”

Russ spread his hands wide. “She was a drug addict, Ryan. Who knows why she did what she did?”

“Why did
you
continue the scam over the years?” Ryan asked.

Russ frowned. “Who says I did?”

“You did. Through your actions.” Though Ryan laughed, he recognized the hollowness in the sound. “If you'd done it once to help Faith, you wouldn't have been in a panic when you saw Sam's key. Your actions were screwed-up, but sort of justifiable and eventually forgivable.”

“I don't see you believing in me at the moment,” his uncle said, his voice laced with bitterness.

“That's because Faith's letter indicated you made money off the scheme more than that one time. It seems she kept those papers in the locker for a year or so, adding to them on occasion.”

His uncle opened his mouth, closed it again, then finally said, “How the hell would she have known?”

“Because like you said, she was a drug addict. She needed drugs after she ran away and turned to her ‘friend' to supply her before she finally took off for New York. He must have filled her in.”

“Good Lord.” Uncle Russ turned toward the window.

“Yeah,” Ryan muttered. “So what the hell was going on?”

Russ faced them again. “It was supposed to be one time. Then a year later, they called on me again. Between their veiled threats to reveal my insurance scam and the fact that the extra money in my pocket helped my lifestyle—”

“You're hardly hurting for cash from the business,” Ryan pointed out.

“And neither is your father or brother and they don't work nearly as hard as I do. After a while, it seemed like I wasn't getting what I deserved from Baldwin's,” he admitted. “Who was it hurting?”

“How about the small-business owner who sees insurance rates skyrocket year after year?” Zoe said, making her presence known.

Not that Ryan had forgotten.

Uncle Russ scowled, but the slight incline of his head acknowledged her point. “I heard from your sister from time to time.”

“What?” Ryan asked in shock.

“She'd call collect or drop me a note. She'd remind me of what she knew and I lived in abject fear of her revealing all. But then after a while the threats stopped. It seemed as if she was cleaning up her act and I was able to justify sending her away. But then it was silent for too long. I was petrified of her going back on drugs, or exposing me. That's when I began my investigation into her whereabouts.”

Ryan's head pounded and he braced himself for his uncle's next admission.

“I found out she'd died in a drug dispute,” he said, his voice cracking.

“You kept that from my parents? From
me?
You let me investigate and search and
hope
?”

Russ nodded. “Please hear me out. When I first found out, the guilt nearly killed me. I blamed myself and I stopped my part in bilking the insurance company. It helped that the feds were cracking down and the guys I dealt with wanted to lay low and focus on other things.”

“And with Faith gone, so was the threat of discovery,” Ryan said.

Russ nodded. “I stayed clean and focused on you, but the guilt never went away. Guilt over sending her away, over her death, over keeping the news from you, but I couldn't see what good it would do to tell you. I couldn't hurt you that way.”

“Or deal with my reaction to your role in it.”

Russ hung his head. “That, too.”

“But then I started investigating on my own. With only partial information to go on, since you withheld the important things, like my sister's death,” Ryan said with contempt.

“Guilty as charged,” Uncle Russ admitted dully.

Ryan leaned back in the chair, his body heavy with the weight of everything he'd just heard.

“How did you feel when Ryan found out something you hadn't? When he found Sam?” Zoe's voice startled Ryan and he glanced her way. She was face-to-face with his uncle.

Uncle Russ merely shook his head and Zoe continued. “I can answer that. You got nervous that maybe
she
knew something or had something that could implicate you, isn't that right?”

Ryan's gaze shot back to his uncle. “Is she right?”

Uncle Russ nodded and nausea churned in Ryan's gut. He'd had enough revelations today to last a lifetime, but Zoe obviously wasn't finished.

“You were so nervous this child of Faith's might know something or have something of her mother's that you hired someone to break into my family's home and tear the place apart, starting with Sam's room,” she said, accusing him of something that had never even crossed Ryan's mind. While he'd been consumed with the past, Zoe had been focused on the present.

“She's right about this, too, isn't she?” Ryan said, knowing the answer before he'd asked the question.

Defeated, Russ merely nodded. “But how did you know?”

“The guy's in jail in Boston and we found out he has a mob connection to the same people involved in the truck robberies. I also had my brother-in-law run a check on you during Faith's troubled years.” She shot Ryan a regretful glance, but he wasn't about to be angry at her.

“Do you know how badly I wanted to be wrong?” she asked Russ. “Ryan loves you. He believed in you. I didn't want to think that you were capable of something so low,” Zoe said, her anger and fury evident in the clench of her fists and the barely controlled tone of her voice. “Do you realize you scared a fourteen-year-old girl half to death and you violated my parents' home, all to save your sorry—” She stepped forward.

Ryan rose and grabbed her by the waist to prevent her from going after his uncle. Her Mediterranean blood was fired up and though he'd like nothing better than to let her take care of the man, he was compelled to protect her from her own anger.

When her breathing slowed and he knew she'd calmed down, he released her, holding her hand to be sure.

“You also pretended to extend an overture to Sam just so you could get your hands on her keys,” Zoe said in disbelief. “She's a child and you violated her trust in the worst way. But then you'd already done the same thing to her mother, so why should Sam get in your way?”

With each word, with each revelation, Ryan's stomach rolled in sick disbelief. “I don't know who you are,” he said, glancing at his uncle.

“Sometimes I don't know the answer to that, either,” Russ said.

Zoe's hand still in his, Ryan pulled her toward the door.

“Ryan,” his uncle called to him.

Ryan paused.

“I've always loved you—you and Faith,” Russ told him. “And I pray that someday when you've had time to think this over, you'll see through my weakness and stupidity and realize that.”

Unable to see anything at the moment, Ryan strode through the door with Zoe without looking back.

Z
OE FOLDED HER LAST TANK TOP
and placed it into her suitcase. A few more items and she'd be good to go. She glanced around the small guest room she'd called home for a short time and realized she'd always felt comfortable here. Not just here in this room, but here in Ryan's apartment and in his life. Surely that was because he hadn't been in his normal routine any more than she'd been in hers.

As she'd told him already, they needed to return to their jobs, their friends, their
lives
and then their differences wouldn't just be apparent, but dramatically so. Of that she was sure—no matter how much her heart hurt at the thought of leaving him.

Sam knocked, interrupting Zoe's thoughts. She bounced into the room and plopped herself cross-legged on the bed. “So we're going home?” she asked, her gaze on the bag.

Zoe nodded. “It's about time, don't you think?”

“I guess.”

Catching the uncertainty in Sam's voice, Zoe knew the young girl had started to care for her new family and would find it difficult to leave them behind—even if it wasn't for good. The next chapter in all their lives promised to be a challenge.

“You had fun here, didn't you?” Zoe asked.

Sam twirled a long strand of her hair around one finger. “This last day or so, yeah I guess I did. Even the old lady isn't so bad as long as I keep Ima away from her.” Sam snickered.

“Be nice, you,” Zoe chided, but she was laughing, too.

Suddenly Sam sobered. “Am I gonna have to come live here?” she asked, her eyes deadly serious and too wise for her fourteen years.

Zoe turned and sat down beside her, joining her on the bed. “I wish I could say no, but there's a good chance you will.”

Sam nodded slowly. “I figured.”

Zoe narrowed her gaze, wanting to be sure she was reading Sam's mood correctly. That her lack of tantrums and yelling meant she'd begun to accept the inevitable and even look forward to her future a little bit.

“You're okay with this?” she asked the teen.

“I don't have much of a choice, right? The Baldwins are my real family. I love you guys, but even I know the law and kids always end up with their relatives even if it's not what's good for them.”

That damnable lump rose in Zoe's throat. “Is that how you feel? That Ryan's family isn't good for you?”

“No,” Sam whispered. She hung her head, shaking it from side to side at the same time. “They're not bad people. Grandma Vivian said she's learned from her mistakes. A person who says that can't be too awful.”

Zoe smiled. “Good point.”

“But I feel guilty.”

Sam looked up with watery eyes and Zoe felt her pain like a punch in the stomach. “Why? All we want is for you to be happy.”

“You guys took me in and wanted to adopt me.” Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to find the words to explain. “I love you all so much and I feel bad liking these uptight people at all.”

Zoe shook her head, rejecting Sam's guilt. “Liking them doesn't mean you love us any less.” She reached for Sam's smaller hand. “You have a big heart, honey. Big enough for everyone in your life.”

“As big as my mouth?” Sam grinned and at that moment, Zoe knew the teenager would be okay.

“When's Ryan driving us back?” Sam asked.

“Actually I thought we'd fly. I didn't want to put Ryan out and—”

“Isn't that for Ryan to decide?” The man himself stood in the doorway, eyeing the open suitcase with an unreadable expression.

Zoe's stomach cramped at the thought of the conversation to come. “Sam?” she asked pointedly.

“I know, I know, you want privacy,” the young girl said with an exaggerated tone and a roll of her eyes that said she thought the adults in her life were complete dorks.

But Ryan didn't appear anything like a dork. Wearing a light blue short-sleeve polo shirt and khaki shorts, he looked completely masculine and self-assured. He was so sexy he literally took her breath away, reminding her exactly why it was time for her to leave.

Ryan cleared his throat.

Sam jumped off the bed. “I'm going, I'm going,” she said, ducking underneath his arm.

He stepped into the room.

Sam shut the door behind her and yelled, “I'm gone.” Her footsteps sounded behind her as she walked down the hall.

“Gotta love her,” Zoe said, forcing a smile.

He strode toward her. “Please don't change the subject or make light of leaving. This is serious.”

She inclined her head, feeling the guilt Sam had spoken of earlier. She didn't want to cause Ryan to feel bad. “You're right.”

His gaze bore into hers. “And I'm serious about you.”

She swallowed hard. “Ryan.”

“Zoe,” he mimicked, but he wasn't laughing. “I'm not going to say what you want to hear. I can't make it that easy on you.”

She wondered if he could hear her heart pounding in her chest, wanting to leap out and—she didn't know what her heart wanted. Nor did she know what he desired from her.

“What is it you want from me? From us?” she asked him.

He held up his hand and she laced her fingers through his. His touch was warm, their connection solid, yet she couldn't discount what separated them—physical distance and social differences, she thought.

“I'll take an open mind to start,” Ryan said.

She narrowed her gaze. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I agree that we have our own individual lives and we need to go live them.”

She blinked, unsure she'd heard him correctly. He was letting her go? “Say that again?”

“I agree with what you've been saying, that we need to get back to our daily routine and the things that define our lives.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay, then.” She could zip her suitcase and hop on a plane. He wasn't stopping her. Just the opposite, in fact. He was giving her what she wanted, so why did she feel so bad?

Like her heart had been sliced open and would never heal?

“I'd just like to know that while we're apart, you'll keep an open mind. Remember the good times we shared. Can you do that?” he asked.

His voice soothed her emotions like warm honey and she savored the liquid heat and delicious feelings he inspired. He was giving her time and space. He respected her feelings and, as a result, she respected him even more.

“Of course I can think about the good times.” It was probably all she would think about. “Besides, we'll keep in touch through Sam.” She forced a smile, refusing to think about how difficult a mere friendship with him would be.

“Definitely,” he said easily.

Too easily.

“Speaking of Sam,” he continued. “I thought through everything you suggested, and you were right about that, too. You should take her home for the summer. Not only will your parents get time with Sam, but I'll have a chance to organize things around here.”

Zoe waved her arm through the air. “Her school, her room, things like that?”

He shrugged. “Things,” he said vaguely.

Well, he was entitled to his privacy no matter how much she disliked being shut out. “So what did you mean when you said you weren't going to make it easy on me or tell me what I want to hear?”

He curled his fingers around hers. “I'm not letting you go without reminding you that I love you. And remember, nothing is forever.” He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering. “Not even goodbye.”

On that enigmatic note, he released her without even a kiss on the lips.

 

O
NE WEEK HAD PASSED
since Ryan had driven Zoe and Sam to the airport, and he still felt as if he'd put his heart on the plane with them. Letting Zoe go, allowing her to think he wanted the break, was the most difficult thing he'd ever done.

He hoped it was the smartest.

He hadn't been able to think of another way to force her into realizing that she missed him when they were apart and that they could easily make a life together—if only she came to terms with her fears.

She had to believe he loved her for who she was and that he had no intention of destroying her independence or strong personality, the very qualities he'd fallen in love with. She needed to believe that despite their different backgrounds, he accepted her unique traits. But, most important, she had to believe in herself, and trust that she wouldn't allow anyone to change her. Knowing all she had to come to terms with, Ryan planned to give her time before coming after her.

He refused to contemplate what he'd do if she turned him away for good. In the meantime, he'd used his own time wisely, doing as Zoe had suggested.

He'd returned to the business of living. His days consisted of getting back into the routine of work, dealing with clients, attending meetings, returning phone calls and scheduling business lunches.

Somehow the days passed, yet every time he returned to his condo, he was reminded of all he'd briefly had and lost. He missed hearing the sounds of female voices. When he woke up, he expected to find either Sam or Zoe making themselves at home in his kitchen. And on the nights when he managed to get some sleep, he'd roll over hoping to find Zoe had joined him in his bed.

Amazing how fast a man got used to things that were once foreign to him. Only now those things were nothing more than spectacular memories. He spoke to Sam every couple of days, but not once had Zoe answered the telephone when he'd called. When asked, Sam always said Zoe wasn't home. He doubted the kid would lie since she seemed to want Ryan and Zoe together as much as Ryan himself.

In his free time he'd done a lot of soul searching about his sister, her life and his uncle's role in both her running away and the way she'd died. Though Ryan had come closer to accepting and comprehending, he hadn't yet reached the point of complete forgiveness, so he hadn't returned Russ's calls. Since Ryan had always had his uncle as a sounding board, a mentor and a friend, now he had no one. And he felt the loss.

He hadn't been in touch with his family since Sam had left, but he was ready to deal with them, which was a good thing since his secretary informed him he was “expected” at the house for dinner this evening. Well, it wasn't like he had anything better to do, Ryan thought.

It had been so easy to admit to Zoe that neither one of them had many friends or much of a social life. It was more difficult to acknowledge to himself how empty that now made him feel. He shook his head and laughed at how pathetic his life was and had been for a long time. Something he could see clearly now, faced with her absence.

She'd given him purpose and laughter, and he longed for warmth and intimacy to fill the void she'd left behind. A void he hadn't before known existed.

The question was, could he ever get her back?

 

R
YAN ARRIVED
at his parents' home at 6:00 p.m. sharp. Instead of the help greeting him at the door, his mother welcomed him. “Hello, Ryan.” She kissed him on the cheek.

“Mother.” He glanced over her shoulder to see his father pouring drinks in the study. “This informality is interesting. What's going on?” he asked.

His father, who until now had avoided Ryan and any discussion of Sam's entry in their lives, stepped forward, bar glass in hand. “I can answer that. Your mother has spent the last couple of nights explaining our mistakes and convincing me we can do better with Sam than we did with your sister.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “And you agreed so easily?”

His father glanced down, and when Ryan returned his gaze, he took in the graying hair and stooped shoulders he hadn't noticed before. “I lost a daughter, Ryan. Just because I never show the pain doesn't mean I don't—and didn't—feel it.”

Ryan's heartbeat tripled as he heard the words nobody in this house had ever expressed while he was growing up. He couldn't believe how emotional they made him feel now.

His palms sweated and his relief nearly overwhelmed him. “I'm so glad to hear you say that.” He forced the words from his tight throat.

His father's gaze never broke from Ryan's. “It's a start, son. It's a start.”

They were a long way from normal, but thanks to a young girl named Sam, they were taking small steps.

“So this do-it-yourself attitude is a part of that?” Ryan swept his arm around the room, encompassing the lack of servants and more casual atmosphere. His father, Ryan realized, wasn't wearing a suit, but a collared shirt with the top two buttons opened.

The other man nodded. “Apparently, we need to lose our snobbery. Your mother's words.” A slight smile touched Mark Baldwin's lips.

Ryan stopped short of calling it a grin. “And you listened to her? Will wonders never cease.” As much as Ryan appreciated the changes in his family home, he couldn't hide his sarcasm.